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cloveroctobers · 11 months

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Richie Jerimovich — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: Love that most of y’all are coming around when it comes to Richie but what’s understood doesn’t need to be explained! Anyways after watching this eye-opening season, it was easy to be inspired for this piece so I hope you enjoy this.

SYNOPSIS: Richie’s found his purpose and doesn’t want to reflect on the past (much) but is looking towards a better future…which may include baby steps to outsiders but it means everything to him.

WARNINGS: language ofc it’s the bear & me we’re talking about, mentions of drugs & anxiety, mentions of slight sexual themes, and a little heaviness but mostly two goof balls expressing their love for each together.

Decided to throw a prompt into the mix as well so I’m using: “can we make cookies?” “it is 92 degrees outside, no!”

*GIF BELONGS TO: @p3iyin9 *

꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱**

[July 10th]

[4 months, 14 days later…]

It’s her birthday and she’s here.

She’s not alone and Richie’s half expecting her to be here with some new guy, some guy that’s more around her age and has their shit together. It’s a bitter thought to have but he can’t lie and say that it didn’t occur, the constant insecurity of not being good enough.

He knows it’s his own fault, he’s the one who pushed her away not long after she welcomed him between her thighs during a brutal winter. The details were vivid even with his eyes wide open, burning into space. He wanted to be angry being so intimate with someone else when there was always the thought of his first love on his mind.

Tiffany.

His ex-wife.

He was still hurting from being officially divorced for about a year now (separated for three) and she was moving on he learned. It was bound to happen, a woman with a heart like her’s? Richie wasn’t sure why he was still holding on to hope for them to rekindle their relationship. He wanted it to work but he was the constant screw up and Tiffany deserved better…he just didn’t expect it to be with some construction owning guy named Frank.

Richie already didn’t trust him.

It was the common tale of curing a broken heart, trying to get underneath someone else to get over someone, to feel anything else but the continuing ache that sat on the left side of his chest.

Freya Mazari was someone Richie met not long after “the thing with Tiff,” happened, outside of a bar that was famous for bourbon and risqué wall art. He spotted her outside at the start of summer on a surprisingly quiet sidewalk cracking her knuckles��out of a possible bad habit, blue bruise the side of an apple on her cheek, and a unlit spliff tapping against her thigh afterwards as she seemed to be mumbling some lyrics to a Busta Rhymes song.

That was the first thing that had him sold on their soon growing friendship.

Freya’s surrounded by a group of diverse women who are laughing it up over drinks while Freya is standing; embracing Sugar and falling into smile-filled chatter with the blonde. Richie instantly feels a pull to head over there himself but be figures he can just get entail from Sugar later. Carmy’s been over to Freya’s table already, handing out a, “it’s on the house,” birthday special but they still weren’t on the best terms really. It was strictly business now and that was something Richie never wanted to be part of.

A strict relationship with a family member—except for uncle Jimmy of course, he really had no choice with that one. That night back on opening day in May, seemed to be something they couldn’t get pass just yet and that was another hard pill for Richie to swallow.

Carmy messing up something good on the surface level and taking it out on everybody else with his mouth, changed the trajectory of their relationship.

Would it be forever? Richie couldn’t tell you.

Nonetheless he wasn’t here at the bear to talk about need-a-diaper carmy. Right now? He needed to figure out how to handle this…this distance with the woman he considered his close friend.

He’ll deal with that family shit in due time, don’t worry.

“Who are we hiding from?” A familiar voice causes Richie to clench his eyes shut.

He doesn’t have to peer down at the shorter tatted man who’s behind him as he says, “I’m not hiding from nobody.”

“Really? Because it looks like you’re creeping on…Freya! Yeah Freya over there. Do you know it’s her birthday today? We had the best birthday hug, she may even be a better hugger than me.” Fak informs the taller blue eyed tux wearing man.

Richie pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, “of course I know its her—what did I tell you about touching things that don’t belong to you?”

He battled with himself countless of times this entire morning to call her up but ultimately fought against himself to just do it.

Fak hummed, “hey, she’s my friend too! And doesn’t belong to either of us but we’re included in her life and it’s her birthday! I’m sure she’ll be happy to receive a birthday wish from you too.”

“I can’t say I agree with you on that.”

“Why not? Oh…it’s because you guys did the dance with no pants—

Richie’s hands immediately slaps over the animated man’s mouth and starts talking to him calmly, “what did I say? To not ever mention that shit here at the original bear.”

That’s Richie’s new spin on the restaurant name, yes there are shirts on the way!

Patience is key.

Fak hummed as Richie scolded him. It wasn’t that big of a deal in the first place on Fak’s side of things. He was just thrilled that Richie was involved in being intimate with someone he cared about for once…compared to the others that shall not be named. Fak thought Freya and Richie could be something great but he wasn’t aware what Richie was so scared of.

“Yuck! Did you just lick my hand you—

Richie shook his hand about, halting himself from saying something insulting. Sometimes it just slipped out but he was doing much better and it was usually a place out of love when it came to Fak. He was like a puppy in training, always excited and doing whatever came to mind but most of the time you had to lure him to take a fucking nap.

“Yeah I did! Just go talk to her! Make her dreams come true.”

“Fuck are you talking about? Do I look like Hall & Oates to you? Like I’m her dream guy or somethin’?”

“Hey, I thought we weren’t doing this. I don’t like you talking down on yourself buddy! You need to go into the restroom and give yourself a quick pep talk in the mirror.” Fak ordered, pointing in the direction of the restrooms.

Richie blew out a raspberry at Fak’s encouragement. He didn’t take him serious but once the man started shoving him about, Richie was all elbows flying and slap-fight inflicting between the two.

Sydney calls from the kitchen, “Hey! What’re you two doing? Aren’t you supposed to be up front?”

“Sugar’s up front.” Richie informs with a slight turn to face the braided woman.

Fak immediately straightens up, not providing much answers, “Yes ma’am! I mean chef.”

Sydney blinks at the two, wondering why they’re not moving, leaving Fak to take a few deep breaths before slapping Richie on the chest as he mutters, “Taking one for the team again! You’re welcome and get it together!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Fak.”

Fak shrugs his shoulders and spins to leave the entry way of the kitchen, while the pace of the kitchen has started to slow down the movements are still precise. It’s late, after ten pm and there’s about three to five parties left, which means closing time should be wrapping up within the next thirty to forty-five minutes.

Business was booming still almost two months later but the rush always seemed to slow down once the late nights arrived. The Bear was formerly known as mainly a lunch or late lunch spot but after this new reno, dinner became much more important.

“Richie,” Sydney steps away from her spot behind the stand, “Everything good?”

Richie exhales as he mutters, “Freya’s out there.”

“I heard.”

He fidgets then.

“Have you talked to her? It’s her birthday.”

“I’m aware, I put in the word for Marcus to give her a little piece of home since I also hear she’s a little homesick. Mkhabez.” Sydney tells Richie, as she eyes the jittery man.

Richie chews on his fingernail in thought, “right that’s some type of cookie. Almond cookie? She told me about how her uh, Jidda used to make them for her as a little girl with her siblings back in Algeria.”

Sydney nodded her head, “yeah…are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“Not to be an asshole but you look like you’re gonna pass out or hurl and if you are, please give me a fair warning so you don’t ruin my coat.” Sydney cautiously took a step back as Richie used the back of his hand to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead and not because of the heat in the kitchen.

Richie scoffs, “No need to worry, Chef. I’m not gonna empty my belly or pop a smooth criminal lean. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. I probably need to pop another xan.”

“Uh, that’s probably something you shouldn’t mention to me.”

“Why? You’re not gonna snitch on me, are you?”

“No…but I might snoop through your stuff and fry them all in a pan.” Sydney honestly says while she folds her arms as Richie peers at her.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could,” Sydney challenged, “if you need a minute take it but you can’t run forever.”

“Who says I’m runnin’?”

“It’s pretty obvious,” Sydney states, “and you just need to rip whatever this is off like a band aid, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

“And what if I don’t?”

Sydney pauses with her arms still folded before she peeks around at the remaining chefs in the kitchen, Carmy not in sight before she whispers back up at him, “then fuck it, at least you tried.”

Richie can’t help but to snort out some laughter before he claps two hands down on Sydney’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze, “Well thanks for that, Syd.”

“Sure, whatever. Now get out of my kitchen.”

“Our!” Richie points.

Sydney nods her head from side to side with a playful roll of her eyes as Richie clicks his tongue at her. Down the hall he goes in search of the bathroom to in fact, give himself a pep talk but most importantly to calm down.

Richie’s disappeared for over half an hour. He didn’t realize it until Carmy barged in to see him sitting on the bathroom sink.

“I said I’m in here!”

“Yeah, with your ass in the sink.” Carmy’s tone is monotone but quick to point out, “which is unsanitary by the way.”

Richie can’t help but to roll his eyes as he hops off then, fixing his tux before he slaps his face, bringing himself out his daze. He spins back around, getting another good look at his reflection for what felt like the thousandth time but he exhales and quietly excuses himself from around Carmy who appears as if he wants to say more.

But he doesn’t.

Richie’s steps echo in his ears as he circles around to the dining area. He hasn’t realized how long he locked himself away until he’s in the room, half of the chairs flipped up onto the tables with lofi music playing through the speakers.

He can only guess who picked this shit.

A blonde pregnant lady probably.

“Damn.” Richie rubs at his mouth in frustration, briefly noticing the booth Freya previously sat in was now empty.

That didn’t lift the weight to now know that she was gone for the night. In fact it made him feel worse, that he didn’t have the nerve to just walk up to her and talk.

You know? like friends were supposed to be able to do.

His skin is red as he pinches at it in aggravation, until he picks up on the sound of heels slowly clacking against the floor. His breathing hitches as he lifts his head to meet Freya’s dark sharp eyes.

“Hey,” Richie chest feels tight but he breathes, “I thought you scrammed outta here with your girls.”

She shakes her head as she keeps some distance between the two, “some of them have early mornings tomorrow and the rest I told to just go home. I was hoping to run into you actually.”

Richie swallows as she steps forward, “why? To smash some cake in my face?”

“Now there’s an idea.” She lightly laughs and it sounds like Christmas bells, “but no, I wanted to see you.”

Richie quirked up a brow as he carefully moved out of the way so Freya could grab her things, “…really?”

“Yeah, we have some things to talk about.” Freya slips her bag over her shoulder, “Like you ghosting me for one.”

Richie rolls his head up to the ceiling, “yeah, about that—

“Let’s go for a late night walk.”

“How about a late night drive since I know your feet are hurting or about to be soon,” Richie looks at Freya’s fit, knowing she wasn’t much of a heels wearing woman (although she wears them very well) preferring sneakers more than anything on her feet.

Freya laughs as she sways a bit, probably a little tipsy, “you’re not wrong about that…so get your keys and take me to yours.”

“Mine,” Richie questions while pointing to himself, “I dunno what kinda guy you take me for—

“Oh Shut up, I’m not giving you any of this birthday cake.” She poses in her fitted dress, “I’m only propositioning a conversation between Richard and the birthday girl.”

“Yeah you giving this a whole title isn’t helping the innuendo, baby.”

“And neither are you in that tux,” Freya smoothes down the arm of it before placing her hands back on the strap of her bag, “Didn’t get the chance to tell you last time face to face but you clean up very nice, Richard.”

Richie gives a grin as he says, “Give me two minutes.”

Which leads to the pair pulling up to Richie’s condo/apartment. It’s normally too quiet at night for his liking, especially when he’s not jamming out with Eva here. After unlocking the front door, he holds his arm out for Freya to lead the way, which she has no issue doing, a natural sway in her steps as she walks down the foyer bare footed now.

“I’ll put the AC on.” Richie rushes out as Freya makes herself at home, placing her shoes against the couch and plopping down on the couch with a sigh.

He messes around with the finicky thermostat until it chokes out some cool air from the vents in the ceiling above, battling against the humidity in his two bedroom home.

“What can I get you? I’ve got beer, Gatorade, tap and—

“Orange juice?” Freya asks as she lays down on the couch, one arm is held up and over her head, eyes closed for a moment.

“Yeah I’ve got that too,” Richie responds from around the corner in his kitchen.

It’s about ten minutes until eleven and Freya is all yawns as Richie arrives back into the living room, holding two red cups, one filled with ice and OJ just how Freya likes it and one just filled with the orange liquid. He sits down beside her as she sits up and moves over to give the man some room in his own house.

She’s gulping the cold juice down and licks at the top of her lip before placing it down on the side table, “you need coasters.”

“Ah, just use some toilet paper.”

Freya crinkles her nose, pressing her fist into the side of her head as she rests back against the couch, just eyeing Richie who is looking forward at everything else but her. The cold air is wheezing but there’s relief filling the room, in contrast to what Richie maybe feeling.

“This silence is killing me, Richard!” Freya pokes his thigh with her seashell painted toe, “just talk to me already, will you?”

“Okay…how’s the birthday going?”

Freya honestly says, “I’m a little sad my mum didn’t call.”

That gets Richie to look at Freya then. Although their friendship was still fairly new, he knew that seemed unlikely for Freya’s mother out in North London to forget her eldest’ birthday. Of course it was possible, Richie didn’t have the best relationship with his own neglectful mother, hasn’t spoken to her in years or knows where she even fucked off to but it seemed like Freya at least communicated with her mother across the ocean on a daily basis.

“Has your brother or sister been in contact with her?”

“Oh yeah, she was in the background on FaceTime with my sister. Not even a hello but it’s probably because I told her I couldn’t send her any money a few weeks ago. Whatever.” Freya shrugs her shoulders.

She was a dental hygienist assistant and didn’t care for her job much but the pay and benefits were decent enough in this economy.

Freya was originally born in Algiers to a father that worked in labor and manufacturing while her mother was a stay at home mom, mostly due to a disability she faced as a child. Money wasn’t the best growing up so it wasn’t until Freya was about twelve when her father moved her, her mother, and her baby sister to London where they stayed with Freya’s maternal aunt for a few months until they got into their own flat. Her brother stayed with her father for awhile until they soon started making their visits.

Eventually her father decided to let the brother stay there while he continued making money and hoping for better work in London. However there were a few opportunities but it seemed like Freya’s father kept turning it down, just to find out he was participating in extramarital affairs behind her mother’s back. Not long after that, her mother stepped up to work with aching joints at a sporting goods store to provide for her three kids.

Freya as the eldest was also used to working underneath the table so it was no different in the UK. She learned quickly how to provide for her family too.

After that they learned her father had fallen ill due to his diabetes and needed his leg amputated. When Freya was twenty-one and living in Toronto with a boyfriend, he was living in London with his sister-in-law and died from congestive heart failure. Freya’s upbringing wasn’t always so cloudy, there were sweet moments with her parents that she liked to hold dear to her heart but the reality is, you’ll always bring something from your childhood into your adulthood good or bad.

“I’m sorry. That sucks ass forreal.” Richie comments and Freya just deeply inhales.

“You know what else sucks?” She exhales, “Not having you around to talk to.”

Richie presses his elbows into his knees in thought, “I uh—I’m sorry about that too. I didn’t mean to, what did you say back at the spot? Ghost you? Yeah. I didn’t mean to do that, I was just dealing with some shit inside that didn’t really have anything to do with you.”

“So the sex wasn’t trash and I didn’t scare you off?”

“What? Are you kidding?!” Richie’s wide-eyed as he quickly looks back at Freya, who’s face is full of a smirk, that it makes the dent on the center of her chin more prominent.

He soon laughs, “you’re fucken annoying you know that?”

“I’m supposed to be. You’ve met your match,” Freya winks.

“It—I’m gonna be real with you. I panicked because it was you on top of—it was you—and not just some random one night stand. With those I never really felt anything unfortunately for me but with you—

“It was like the Fourth of July-ly-ly.”

Richie scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I’m all here for your confidence in my skills truly but shut up.”

Who was being annoying now? She was clearly talking about herself but whatever floats this man’s boat—which she already knew—BUT she’ll save you guys the details.

“I’ve been quiet for months and I’m just trying to help fill in the gaps, sheesh!” Freya flicks her black parted hair back over her shoulders.

Richie shakes his head at the thirty something year old woman who didn’t mind rambling even when she wasn’t tipsy.

“It’s just you know, I didn’t think I would ever feel something again after the d—the thing with tiff.”

Richie still couldn’t say it, although Tiffany was officially steering her life in the direction of a another man. He still couldn’t say “divorce” because then that would mean he would have to start his own healing of a end of a special era with a woman he deeply loved and created a precious life with.

It just fizzled out and damn it hurt.

“And you did with me,” Freya voiced and was understanding, “glad to know that wasn’t only one sided.”

Richie finds himself asking, “Did you tell that no good locked up son of a bitch about it?”

Freya’s ex was some abusive guy that landed himself in jail right after New Years and it wasn’t for him stalking, harassing, or hitting Freya. It was from attempted armed robbery and now he was serving time for it and Freya finally felt like she could breathe for once.

Richie knew the feeling of being held back.

Counting your breaths are actually helpful, shout-out to anger management!

“No. Did you?”

“That jagoff can choke!”

“I mean, did you tell Tiffany?”

“Fuck no! I needed to see how we were feeling about it first and it’s not like she tells me her every move—besides her getting engaged to some other guy.” Richie’s almost glaring now at the fact of the matter before fixing his tone some, “Which I guess she gets points for letting me know and if the bastard is gonna be around my kid full-time.”

Freya spoke, “You just never thought there would be someone else. I get it.”

“Never! For either of us, then you came along and then came Frank and it’s a constant loop of emotions but I’m happy to be in Eva’s life and to feel something other than dread when I step into the original bear.” Richie’s plucking his nail against the plastic cup, slightly anxious at being this vulnerable.

However Freya wasn’t one to judge much, sure she had her opinions and can get loud from time to time when she’s pissed off or passionate but she was usually open to hearing all perspectives before she said her peace. Richie’s view was not one she spoke much on, she listened, really listened like he needed someone to and offered words when it was time for him to hear them.

“That’s something to look forward to.”

“Yeah but I still miss you.” Richie rubbed at his face before saying, “I miss our friendship and I don’t know what to do about us after what we did…yet somethin’ inside is telling me that nows not really the time to be jumping into anything. I’m just figuring things out and I know that’s gotta count for something.”

“Which is fine, richie!” Freya says with a light shove to his shoulder, “I wasn’t chasing you down to force you to be with me or anything! I gave you the space you clearly needed. I know we both got our own shit to deal with but being with you helps put that on pause for awhile …even if it’s as friends. I’m here whenever you need me, you wanna vent and scream about shit, have at it. You don’t wanna talk? Let’s have a dance party instead. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I’ve got two, take your pick!”

Richie snorts at this but he honestly appreciates it. He almost forgot what it felt like to have a friend.

“Just don’t cancel me out for months at a time, and expect things to be normal without a conversation, you hear me you prick? I’m your friend, you can talk to me ya know? I want you to feel safe with me, confide in me.” Freya holds Richie’s navy eyes against her ink colored ones and Richie has to slap a hand over his mouth to hold back a sob.

Richie chokes out, “ugh! Why are you making me feel things?!”

“Because it’s cancer season and I love and respect our friendship. You held me down in my lowest and I’m gonna keep uplifting you during yours and your growth.” Freya places a hand over the one that’s resting on Richie’s own knee.

Freya goes on, “It’s not our time to be romantically involved and I’m quite okay with that but that doesn’t mean I suddenly stop caring for you.”

Richie pressed his chin into his shoulder, staring at her underneath his lashes, “Wow…you sure you don’t wanna make-out just to confirm that?”

“I knew you liked how I look in this dress.” Freya playfully runs her nails through his buzzed hair, “say it back though, tell me you care just as much.”

There’s that “words of affirmation” shit people talk about right? Garrett would probably find this amusing.

He gently rests a rough hand against her cheek, “You know I do but I’m gonna say it anyways since you wanna be mushy as fuck right now. Thanks for everything and coming into my life, I care a lot about you and us. Your heart is beautiful and you’re my friend who also happens to be a total smoke show! I know you must feel amazing in that dress, you wear it well.”

“Thanks, good looking!” She winks.

“Act like you know,” Richie smirks.

“Oh, please!”

Richie hyped himself up with a roll of his shoulders, “Look good, feel good.”

They share a laugh staring at each other with Freya balled up beside him and Richie just enjoying her company. He wasn’t sure what to make of this but he didn’t have to have all the answers tonight. This Freya also confirmed.

He was just happy to be around her again and to have her be part of his journey.

She pops up then, “Can we make cookies?”

“Didn’t you just have some back at the restaurant?” Richie asks before saying, “It’s 92 degrees outside, no!”

“That was much earlier, though.” Freya argues, eyes darting to the side as she thinks about it.

It really was a lovely day to spend her birthday, although she wasn’t on a boat somewhere in Monaco or Miami…it was a somewhat chill day.

“Didn’t you already have some cookies at the restaurant?”

He knew she was a hungry drunk but she was nowhere near drunk, shockingly on her day.

“So? If you don’t know how to make some basic chocolate chip cookies just say that.”

Richie scoffed, “What?! Who said that? I make the best got damn cookies ever, just ask Eva.”

“She’s probably sleeping?”

“…fuck, you’re right.”

He definitely would have called her up if it wasn’t passed her bedtime.

“Well? What’re you waiting for?” She kicks his thigh again.

Richie pressed his forehead against Freya’s as he hollered, “Game on, Queen Elizabeth!”

“Don’t you ever!” She tapped his jaw and pointed at him.

Richie moved his jaw along blinking, “I’m sorry! I forgot.”

Thats how the late night evening included making homemade cookies, with Richie hovering over his phone trying to read off ingredients to Freya as they made a mess of his kitchen.

“Where’s the dark chocolate?” Freya searched Richie’s cabinets and drawers while Richie tried to keep his eyes away from the kitchen door, where he had Freya propped up against with him down on his knees.

“What? I said salt?” Richie’s eyes followed the woman as she moved around the kitchen as if she were being timed, “I dunno where the hell you got dark chocolate from.”

“We can do dark chocolate since it’s superior and a pinch of sea salt?”

Lines appeared against the skin of Richie’s forehead as he raised his brows, “How about hell no, Betty Crocker?”

“Who made you the number one cookie critic?” Freya gibed as she gently closed the drawers shut with her hips.

Richie taunts, “your mother!”

Middle fingers and a sarcastic smile later were handed right over to the 6’1 man, “Piss off, Richard!”

“Well…whadda want to do? Eva and I ate up all the last of the candy I had here. She might be coming to see you soon actually but don’t tell tiff that if you happen to see her, alright?” Richie slaps the palms of his hands against his kitchen counter.

Freya let’s out a dramatic sigh as she begins pacing on her side of the counter. She stops to lean her elbows against the counter and looks at the plastic large bowl in front of richie. Still sighing Freya reaches over to use the smaller spoon that was off to the side to dip into the batter.

Hey, Freya was no baker or chef but she liked looking at the consistency and details of things. Turning it to show to Richie, she takes one finger and flicks the spoon back so the batter can fling forward and stick right on Richie’s nose.

She’s cackling at the image of Richie closing his eyes shut in disbelief. His tongue goes out then to lick some of it off before swiping it away with his fingertips. He stares hard at a laughing Freya, who has her head thrown back, hugging herself while Richie is focused on his next move.

He’s carefully taking his jacket off now, smoothing it down before using his long limbs to toss it over at the dining table top on his right. Freya doesn’t notice this as she’s wiping the corners of her wing-lined eyes, still closed as she’s almost snorting now, skin of her nostrils sinking in a bit, like she’s squidward or some shit as she carries on laughing.

“You think you’re so funny don’t you?” Richie asks with a palm full of flour now.

She’s still laughing as she nods her head, too full of giggles to get any words out.

Instead of Richie sprinkling some salt, he throws flour across the counter right to the side of Freya’s face, “Well I’m funnier, asshole!”

That gets Freya to stop laughing then. She stands up straight and it’s Richie’s turn to fail to cover his own laughter with his fist.

It was on then.

A flour fight began between the two friends, coating most of the kitchen with white powder.

“I think you threw salt in my eye you turd?!” Freya’s holding her eye now, after this has gone on for at least ten minutes.

“Shit, I’m sorry! Everything is starting to look the same.” Richie’s coming to her aide now, fanning the air as he steps to her, hands reaching for her forearms, “let me see.”

Freya fools him, “Gotcha!” Before whacking him in the neck with a whisk.

“Ow! Hey you’re fighting dirty, Frey!” Richie scolds before snatching a wooden spoon making Freya eye him wildly, “uh huh let me see you try to win this battle now.”

“I’m definitely gonna win, whether you like it not, Richy Rich.” Freya got low, ready to aim at Richie’s torso since she had that to her advantage being shorter than him.

Richie blows a raspberry, tapping the wooden spoon against the palm of his hand, “you must not know the strength of a wooden spoon and my wrestling skills, sweetheart. I got the team to championships!”

“When? In 1948?”

Richie tightens his eyes at this before they’re in a fencing match now. Which doesn’t last long as one of the two lost their footing due to the flour covered floor.

“I think I broke my ass.” Richie groans holding his back.

Freya’s laughing again as she’s resting right on top of Richie, “I’m glad I don’t have that problem, flat ass.”

“I don’t appreciate you slandering what I lack, some of us weren’t blessed okay?” Richie sasses as he wraps a hand around Freya’s waist to sit them both up.

Freya cooed at him, pinching his cheeks while Richie rolls his eyes. They sit in silence with freya on his lap as they take in the sight of his kitchen now. Flour on the upper cabinets, flour even on Eva’s personal drawing table, flour of course covering the counter, flour all over the floor, hair, face and their clothes.

“Great…now I gotta clean this up!”

“Eh, maybe later yeah?”

“Later? Well what else do you have in mind since we didn’t actually make those cookies you wanted so bad?” Richie waved his hands about.

Freya makes an explosion in front of Richie’s face, his round eyes following her fingertips for a moment before she says close to his face, “I have a better idea, it’s actually a good one.”

Richie was half expecting Freya to get him to break out into a dance routine like last time to Madonna’s, “Material girl,” but he was sure the man above was probably tired of their shenanigans tonight.

So that’s how he ended up here, covered in flour with him watching as Freya made herself comfortable on his couch again, head pressed against her folded up hands.

One eye pops open almost like a jumpscare, “are you gonna stand there the entire night like a creeper and just watch me sleep or are you going to join me, Richie Lawrence?”

Richie scratches at his head in confusion, “stop with the whole middle-name name drop, you’re making me think of my bastard dad. And I’m not sure what you want me to do here?”

“Make yourself comfortable, it’s your house.”

“There’s a bed on the other side and a shower…”

“So you’re gonna make more suggestions on my birthday but then say respectfully a romantic relationship isn’t what you want out of this on my birthday? It sounds like you want to give me a certain gift on my birthday to end this birthday party.” Freya rambles, now sitting up on her elbow.

Richie squints, “how many times did you just say birthday?”

“Get over here!”

“God, you’re getting bossy in your old age.” Richie jokes as he sits down by Freya’s legs, who swings them to the floor so Richie can scoot in behind her.

He keeps his hands and feet where he can see them, staring at the back of Freya’s head and he can smell her sweet but floral scent. Richie takes the time to digest how this feels, with Freya in front of him radiating off a comforting warmth even when she snatches his arm to rest against her waist.

Richie is just waiting then for the anxiety to kick in but it doesn’t arrive for the rest of the night. Which makes him sink further into the couch, tightening his hold of Freya. His nose then presses down into her bare soft shoulder blade, right where her round mole sits and exhales.

“I’m proud of you.” Freya croaks out, ready for sleep, “and you should be too.”

And that makes Richie’s heart swell. He always wanted to be good at something but wasn’t sure how to make a career out of it. He had to find his footing in this world constantly and slowly he felt like he was beginning to locate it. They say it’s in your daily routine if you’re unsure and engaging with all sorts of people was something richie didn’t mind being part of.

It felt natural to him.

Holding Freya felt just the same but she didn’t need to know that just yet. He loved physical touch whether you were his family or not, it was the best form of love Richie wanted to give and receive.

He didn’t realize he squeezed her tighter against him at her words before he presses a kiss to the back of her head, “Happy birthday.”

A smile graces her lips.

In the early hours of July 11th, the sky a faded dim blue begins to peak through Richie’s living room curtains, revealing that a new day was among them.

Richie’s always been a early riser since sleep hardly existed according to the bags underneath his eyes. It had to be around 5 in the morning and he knew he would be ready for some coffee soon but this time he enjoys the silence. He feels Freya roll back against him, arm looping around his neck as she stretches in her sleep.

“Morning to you too,” Richie greets, “Question for ya, how’s bell-pep the iguana doin’?”

You heard that right, Freya was a “Guana-momma,” who she named after a vegetable specifically and Richie was ready to baby sit the guy at any time—as long as it didn’t freak Eva out too much but he doubted that. She had his blood in her veins.

Freya shushed him straight away, removing her arm from around his neck to curl that same arm to press the back of her fingers against his lips, “When I step up in the place, ayo, I step correct.” She starts before moving those fingers to create a wave up in the air.

It only made sense to Richie for her to be rounding off lyrics early in the morning, especially when he was asking questions and she wasn’t sure if she even knew her name just yet.

“Woo-hah, got them all in check.” Richie proceeds, head lifting a little to see if Freya’s eyes were even open as she rounded off lyrics.

Freya concludes, “Go to sleep.”

Enough said.

“I’ll try.”

The sight of flour sticky limbs entangled between two reconnected friends on another summer’s day went like this: cheek pressed against her’s, his facial hair pricking her skin which she didn’t seem to mind as snores actually escaped Richie’s lips, with his hand gripping Freya’s that was clutched to her own chest as their bodies gently rose in deep slumber.

The cares of the outside world were put on hold once more and Richie envisioned that this must be what heaven felt like. Nothing but a bit of light right in front of his eyes or in his arms to lead the way.

Cheers to some fucking clarity!

Sorry for the foul language dude or person or divine power up there…but Richie was thankful for it all.

꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱**

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #Richie jerimovich #richard jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x oc #ebon moss bachrach #neil fak #natalie berzatto #sugar berzatto #carmy berzatto #sydney amadu #summer prompts #queued #the bear s2 #the bear season 2

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