[Richie snorts, raising an eyebrow, but something in his gut knows better than to argue with Eddie when he sounds like that. like he really means it.]
Okay.
[Eddie does this a lot, he's noticed. he's never thought about it too hard before, because there wasn't much to examine beyond thinking that it's nice and Richie likes holding his hand.
now he thinks about it. about how Eddie initiates this most of the time, just like he does everything else. about how Eddie is reassuring him and his stupid fears that Eddie could be ashamed of him, that he is something shameful, when he's never been as brave as Eddie about his feelings in the first place. when if anyone has a right to worry, it should be Eddie, dealing with a boyfriend who could only call himself as much over text.
he knows that everything Eddie is saying, he means. it fills him with a fiery sort of courage, to hear those words and know with confidence that for the person saying them, at least, they are the truth.
in the dark and without his glasses, it's difficult to even make out Eddie's face, but Richie leans close, their heads bowed together, and hesitates a second before he whispers back, grinning.]
Better than Derry isn't a high bar to set, Spaghetti.
[not what he wanted to say. one more time, then:]
I mean, I was being stupid about it, and I'm glad you said it, but I- yeah. I believe you.
Also I just- I couldn't ever talk about something like this, you know, so it's weird to do it now- but I want to. Because you deserve to hear that stuff and know that I mean it too. You're more important to me than caring about what someone else thinks. You're more important than- ['anything', is what almost slips out.] all of that junk.
Anyway, I'd pay money to see you spit in Bowers' face.
( there's a lot that eddie still feels shame over, even as he tries to remind himself he shouldn't. even if pennywise the homophobic clown hadn't been out there twisting people into poisonous caricatures, they still lived in derry. and even if derry hadn't been filled with people ready to, eddie still lived with sonia kaspbrak. his mother has had him afraid of AIDs since the news broke across america. eddie had still been five, the first time his mother had shaken a copy of the new york times in his face and insisted her eddie would never be one of those sick, dirty boys.
but there's nothing dirty about the way that richie smiles when eddie takes his hand. there's nothing sick about the way eddie feels his entire chest lifts and eases just by looking at him. there's nothing wrong with them, there's nothing wrong with them, there's nothing wrong with them. sometimes he has to say it so many times before he believes it, but around richie he knows it's true. )
Exactly. Exactly. I don't want to give a shit about what everyone else thinks, I don't. I want to fucking scream it in the face of every nasty fuckin' prick that ever had something to say. ( easy to say here, about as far removed from derry as they could possibly get, but eddie wants to mean it and surely that's what counts in the end. )
I'm fucking– you mean so much to me. I'm not even joking, I'd do it right now. Who gives a shit about Bowers? That stupid clown didn't kill me, what's he going to do? We woke up here and we're fine. We're good.
( his throat dry from whispering, it clicks as he swallows and he reaches out clumsily with his other hand until he finds richie's cheek and he can pat at it gently. rub his thumb right over richie's cheekbone and give him a watery smile that he's pretty sure richie can't even see. )
If we wake up in Derry tomorrow, I'll still think you're the best fuckin' thing that's ever happened to me, Rich.
you're the best fuckin' thing that's ever happened to me, Rich.
he wasn't supposed to ever hear stuff like this for real. he didn't think he ever would, anyway. and not from Eddie. but Eddie's saying them all the same, touching his face in a way Richie could dare to call loving, and smiling sure enough that he doesn't need glasses to see it.
he doesn't want to think about going back, or about what it felt like to watch a monster play with Eddie's life. he doesn't want to think about losing this place, or about how it's falling apart around them.
normally, he would give them both something to laugh at instead. and that's alright, most of the time. but Eddie deserves more than a laugh when he's giving so much more than that. Richie just said so himself. he turns his head blindly, so that his lips brush Eddie's fingers, not quite a kiss.]
I don't care if we wake up on Mars, so long as you're there.
[it's no joke, but Richie laughs anyway, watery eyed and surprised at himself.]
You've always mattered more than anything else, Eds.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Okay.
[Eddie does this a lot, he's noticed. he's never thought about it too hard before, because there wasn't much to examine beyond thinking that it's nice and Richie likes holding his hand.
now he thinks about it. about how Eddie initiates this most of the time, just like he does everything else. about how Eddie is reassuring him and his stupid fears that Eddie could be ashamed of him, that he is something shameful, when he's never been as brave as Eddie about his feelings in the first place. when if anyone has a right to worry, it should be Eddie, dealing with a boyfriend who could only call himself as much over text.
he knows that everything Eddie is saying, he means. it fills him with a fiery sort of courage, to hear those words and know with confidence that for the person saying them, at least, they are the truth.
in the dark and without his glasses, it's difficult to even make out Eddie's face, but Richie leans close, their heads bowed together, and hesitates a second before he whispers back, grinning.]
Better than Derry isn't a high bar to set, Spaghetti.
[not what he wanted to say. one more time, then:]
I mean, I was being stupid about it, and I'm glad you said it, but I- yeah. I believe you.
Also I just- I couldn't ever talk about something like this, you know, so it's weird to do it now- but I want to. Because you deserve to hear that stuff and know that I mean it too. You're more important to me than caring about what someone else thinks. You're more important than- ['anything', is what almost slips out.] all of that junk.
Anyway, I'd pay money to see you spit in Bowers' face.
no subject
but there's nothing dirty about the way that richie smiles when eddie takes his hand. there's nothing sick about the way eddie feels his entire chest lifts and eases just by looking at him. there's nothing wrong with them, there's nothing wrong with them, there's nothing wrong with them. sometimes he has to say it so many times before he believes it, but around richie he knows it's true. )
Exactly. Exactly. I don't want to give a shit about what everyone else thinks, I don't. I want to fucking scream it in the face of every nasty fuckin' prick that ever had something to say. ( easy to say here, about as far removed from derry as they could possibly get, but eddie wants to mean it and surely that's what counts in the end. )
I'm fucking– you mean so much to me. I'm not even joking, I'd do it right now. Who gives a shit about Bowers? That stupid clown didn't kill me, what's he going to do? We woke up here and we're fine. We're good.
( his throat dry from whispering, it clicks as he swallows and he reaches out clumsily with his other hand until he finds richie's cheek and he can pat at it gently. rub his thumb right over richie's cheekbone and give him a watery smile that he's pretty sure richie can't even see. )
If we wake up in Derry tomorrow, I'll still think you're the best fuckin' thing that's ever happened to me, Rich.
no subject
you're the best fuckin' thing that's ever happened to me, Rich.
he wasn't supposed to ever hear stuff like this for real. he didn't think he ever would, anyway. and not from Eddie. but Eddie's saying them all the same, touching his face in a way Richie could dare to call loving, and smiling sure enough that he doesn't need glasses to see it.
he doesn't want to think about going back, or about what it felt like to watch a monster play with Eddie's life. he doesn't want to think about losing this place, or about how it's falling apart around them.
normally, he would give them both something to laugh at instead. and that's alright, most of the time. but Eddie deserves more than a laugh when he's giving so much more than that. Richie just said so himself. he turns his head blindly, so that his lips brush Eddie's fingers, not quite a kiss.]
I don't care if we wake up on Mars, so long as you're there.
[it's no joke, but Richie laughs anyway, watery eyed and surprised at himself.]
You've always mattered more than anything else, Eds.