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( closed ) i think you ought to stay away from here

Who: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier
When: july 14
What: Eddie + Richie get caught in an event dome ( followed by long overdue communication )
Warnings: event-related trauma; probably references to IT-canon (child-murdering monsters! parental abuse!); probably canon-related homophobia references —— will update as needed

( Things are...better. Maybe. They're talking, and that's already a huge improvement on the weeks of silence that gnawed away at Eddie painfully. There's an elephant in every room they walk into, of course there is, but Eddie certainly won't be the one to bring things up. Frankly, he's just happy that Richie's willing to talk to him again, after what happened.

So it's not perfect, but it's good. Things only feel a little stilted as Eddie chats his way through the walk, and it's only slightly obvious that he's desperately filling any silence with noise of some kind. It's not perfect, but he'll take it. Honestly he doesn't entirely remember why they've gone out this time – looking for something for HTC, he thinks, but it's hardly important. Eddie didn't even argue about the safety of the domes before he agreed, and now that they're out he's only regretting that a little.

After all, they haven't run into problems yet right?

Something feels wrong right away. Eddie's brows burrow into a deep frown and there's this gut feeling that just punches through him. He takes a deep breath in and turns to tell Richie that they have to go–

Richie isn't there.

Panic claws at him instantly, and there's barely time to suck air into his lungs before he starts calling out about as loud as he can manage. )

Richie? Rich, where did you go? Richie?!

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( At some point during his furious ranting the bright idea occurs to Eddie that he'll feel better if he violently flings his inhaler across the dome. It doesn't make him feel any better, not exactly shocking, and to make it worse he has to stomp after it and pray that it isn't shattered.

This at least has the benefit of putting him closer to the entrance. It's not helpful, because he still hasn't made the connection to leave, but at least it's audible for Richie as Eddie grumbles in a more normal volume. )

That was stupid, Jesus I'm going to have a stupid asthma attack and die before I even tell him why I was being so stupid and Richie's probably going to die too and it's– BULLSHIT.

( He doesn't have a clue how close Richie is as he grabs the inhaler up off of the floor, mercifully unbroken, and Eddie wonders if now might be an appropriate time to cry. He doesn't though, just stares at the blue plastic in his hands with that white hot fury still burning him up inside. )

This isn't how it was supposed to go. I wasn't– we weren't... I just need more time.

[Eddie wanders closer, and Richie holds his breath, thinking come on, come on, almost, just pick it up and keep going- but of course he doesn't, and Richie sinks to his knees, overcome with frustration.

There's no point replying, so he just listens, eyes still shining as he looks up at Eddie from where he kneels, turning each word over and over in his mind.

More time for what? It's funny (it's really not), because Richie had been thinking this too. How he just needed a little time to bolster his courage, he just needed to wait for the right moment to confess everything, apologise properly, and it was all bullshit, he knows it was, because it's only now that Eddie can't hear a word he says, and Richie can feel how awful it is to be denied the opportunity, that he truly wants to speak every truth he's held back.

He wonders what Eddie's truths are.

I was being stupid is the one that really catches him up, though. He can't decipher it. He wants Eddie back and safe more than he wants the answer, though.]

( It sometimes surprises people, but Eddie isn't much of a crier.

He has a lot of reactions, a lot of emotions that come out in a variety of (usually loud) ways, but his tears are saved for special occasions. Ending up on the wrong end of Bowers and company, being forced away from his friends after one of the most traumatic afternoons of his life, somewhat accidentally kissing his best friend — that sort of thing. Whatever is happening now, scary as it might be, doesn't cut it yet.

There's no real telling how long it takes, exactly. He does a lot of vocal pleading, a lot more internal fretting. He stops shouting at nothing eventually, but his expression stays twisted up with anger and he never really relaxes his hands out of their tight fists entirely. He uses his inhaler three more times. He kicks an inanimate object once, and his foot is still throbbing when he decides enough is enough.

He's lost the furious stomps at least, by the time he moves towards the exit. Instead he's just sort of slumping along, like he doesn't have much hope that this will prove any more fruitful than the yelling and kicking. Still, before he leaves he has to say something. )

Richie, if you can hear me..I'm not leaving you here, I promise. I'm not. I'm gonna come back, I just need some help. I can't find you if I can't even see your dumb face. Just– please don't do anything stupid, please. I'm coming back, I am—

( He leaves, and suddenly Richie is right there.

Eddie's mouth snaps shut, and he wants to say something about Richie's tear streaked face or the freaky shit that just happened, or anything really, but instead his chest just heaves and he doesn't say a word. )

Edited 2020-07-17 14:38 (UTC)

[Richie, on the other hand, has a lot more tears in him than most would expect, but he rarely allows them to be seen. He's a quiet crier, the sort who bottles it up and hides it for when he's alone, into hands, into pillows.

Ever since they arrived, Eddie has seen a lot of them, though. He wonders what the fuck the universe is trying to pull with that shit.

Richie doesn't move as Eddie continues to pace, and plead. He sits through all of it, afraid to look away for an instant, just in case something changes and he can't find him again. He has no idea how this works, or if maybe something will give, so he talks sometimes, too. Eddie's name. Can you hear me yet? There's never an answer.

He's tense the whole time, leaning forward and chewing his lip to pieces, and when Eddie starts talking like he's finally leaving, Richie's hunched over spine straightens up fast enough that he feels something twinge.

Finally. Finally- and Richie wonders at the last second, his heart seizing, if maybe it won't work the same for Eddie, if Richie will be invisible to him for good-

But he can see the difference on Eddie's face the moment he must pop back into place, suddenly existing again the way Eddie did for him, and Richie crumples with relief. He clambers to his feet, and he throws his arms tightly around Eddie with no regard for the space he's carefully maintained in recent days.

His fingers twist too tight into Eddie's shirt, and his hair is probably in Eddie's face, but he doesn't care. All that matters is Eddie seeing him and knowing Richie sees him too.]

Welcome back, you fucking human foghorn.

( Richie doesn't appear so much as it's suddenly like he never disappeared, and it's a dizzying sensation that must be responsible for why Eddie just stares when faced with the sight of the person he was screaming himself hoarse over only minutes ago.

That must be why he doesn't protest when Richie comes closer to him than they've been in weeks, why he doesn't stop it before they're already locked in a fiercer hug than they've shared in a long time. That must be why he hugs back, before he can remind himself that he's not supposed to be touching Richie any more. Not after what he did, not while Richie still doesn't know. It's just not right. )

It's not my fault you're so deaf you couldn't hear me, asshole.

( Eddie grumbles right back, but he's certainly not angry any more. Just relieved that Richie's here, that he seems fine, that whatever just happened seems to be over.

The moment where Richie's words actually sink in is abundantly obvious, because Eddie suddenly goes stiff as a board. Richie heard him in there. He doesn't know how much, barely remembers how incriminating any of his wild ranting was, but he feels sick all the same.

He doesn't let Richie go, but that's possibly only because Eddie suddenly feels like he can't move at all. )

You could hear me?

[He can feel the moment where Eddie realises, because he's suddenly rigid and unmoving, but Richie doesn't let go. Partly because Eddie is still holding on tight, and partly because he's selfish. Because he needs, at least for a little longer, the proof that Eddie is right here with him.

Richie nods, a little stiff and jittery too, digs for the right words. He doesn't want to make Eddie upset, or scared, but he wants answers to the questions ready to race out of his mouth. When you say 'being stupid', are you talking about how we-? What did you need more time for? How would you feel if I told you-

God, he's not going to be sick all over Eddie. That would be traumatising for the both of them.]

Yeah. It just- look, you have it all wrong.

[Not a great start.]

I'm the one that- if anyone has to fix things, it's me. So- so I don't know why you were talking about being stupid, because everything's my fucking fault anyway. And I'm sorry. I'm-

[Of course he ended up here, adding another apology to Eddie to his tally, and no, he refuses to also cry in front of him again, bites down hard on the inside of his cheek and tilts his head back stubbornly before looking down again.

He meets Eddie's eyes, because he deserves that at the very least.]

I'm really sorry I'm like this. I don't want it to make you feel like shit.

( It's no secret that Eddie isn't a great listener. He's a jarring mix of impatient and loud that often translates in Eddie talking over people, getting distracted. He's never been great at just sitting and listening, which makes it very odd that he's doing it right now

Eddie shuts his mouth and lets Richie speak, and it turns out Richie has so much to say when Eddie doesn't interrupt him.

But he's painted a very specific picture of That Day in his mind at this point, bolstered by supporting evidence that was really more ambiguous at best, and now that Richie is saying just enough to challenge his image of that moment, Eddie's stunned.

He needs to say something. He has to say something. )

Richie...

( Quite suddenly, very unusually, Eddie bursts into tears. )

[Richie really had no idea how this was going to go down, or what kind of reaction Eddie might have, but he wasn't considering Eddie crying as even a fucking possibility. He gapes stupidly, eyes blinking owlishly behind his glasses, before he's pulling Eddie back into a tight hug.

He's so god damned confused, unmoored and lost at sea, when he felt a second ago like he had a pretty good idea of where he was sailing.]

Oh jesus, please don't cry. I don't know what- fuck. Um. It's- hey, it's okay. It's alright, Eds.

Jesus.

( Richie just hugs him tighter, like Eddie deserves any of this at all. He's messed everything up so monumentally and Richie is still the one comforting. It's not fair, and he's as overwhelmed as he is frustrated. )

Stop apologising! It's not your fault, it's not. Richie I did this, I was the one who–

( He still can't say it.

Richie's tearing himself apart thinking that he's the one at fault here, and all Eddie can do is clam up and stutter through half-sentences worse than goddamn Bill. It's not good enough. )

Richie. I shouldn't have...done that. Okay? I don't know what I was thinking. It's not your fault I have- these feelings. Okay? I'm sorry. I'll fix it okay, just stop saying sorry.

( He's absolutely still crying when he pulls back, sets his hands on Richie's shoulders and looks him right in the eyes. It's probably the bravest that Eddie has ever been. )

I'll fix it, I swear, just don't hate me and please don't say you're sorry.

Edited 2020-07-18 10:51 (UTC)

Eddie- Eddie, what do you mean, 'feelings'?

[His heart is gonna thunder right out his chest. Richie breath shudders as he tries to scoop in lungfuls of air, but it doesn't do shit, the space between he and Eddie is thin and empty and gives him nothing.

He needs to ask this right. Needs to give himself an out.]

I'm the one who [he almost fumbles again, powers through-] wanted that to happen. I'm the one who thought he needed to feel guilty about how he felt. Do you... you get it, right?

I don't- [He laughs, high and fuelled by nerves, barely daring to hope.] I couldn't hate you Eddie. Especially not... god, not if- sorry, I don't know what I'm-

What?

( Eddie was expecting Richie to forgive him, if he's honest. Especially since getting out of that messed up dome, but even before then a small part of him knew that they were probably going to figure it out. Richie was trying - God knows more than Eddie has tried - and Eddie figured he would be able to get himself sorted, more or less.

He hadn't expected...whatever that was. )

You wanted- but I- fuck.

( He's rewriting his image of that day so fast it's making him dizzy now, and he clutches tighter at Richie's shoulder. Shakes him a little too for good measure, because there's a lot going on and he doesn't know what to do with himself at all.

Instead of grabbing his inhaler, he keeps hold of Richie instead. Somehow staring at those glasses is doing something to keep him grounded, and he swallows hard as he tries to get the words out properly. )

Richie. Do you- do you know....I wanted to? I just thought you didn't want me to.

Edited 2020-07-18 12:44 (UTC)

[Eddie shakes him, digs his grip in tighter, and Richie feels thankful for it, because it's the only thing tethering him as he hangs here, lost and nervous, waiting for Eddie to keep speaking. He laughs nervously again, quiet, as Eddie just stares and processes. It's the scariest and brightest limbo he's ever been in, the possibility of something wonderful and the dread of everything crashing and burning warring with each other. And then.

I wanted to.

He sucks in a sharp breath, finally, finally getting enough air, and it's dizzying the way it all goes to his head. God, he feels so fucking overheated. His face feels like it's burning, and his hands, still curled around Eddie's back, are sweating like crazy. Words. He has to-]

I wanted you to. [It comes out in a total rush.] I mean I- I mean I liked it. If you did.

Edited 2020-07-18 13:26 (UTC)

( I wanted you to.

Jesus Christ, Eddie's going to pass out. His vision swims again, not that he cares. For the first time in weeks he feels like he can properly breathe, he doesn't give a shit if he's crying right now. He's saddled the weight of that stupid, impulsive decision for so long now. The notion that it might have been more mutual than he ever could have dreamed is just...

...well. It sure is something. )

I would have liked it more if I didn't freak out right after.

( Hindsight is, as always, 20/20 - it's so much easier to see Richie's reaction for what it was now. It's so much more apparent that he reacted to Eddie's recoil, not the kiss itself. It's easy to see exactly how they got into this mess.

Eddie can be articulate, if it will stop them from ending up in this situation again. He can learn to express himself properly, if it'll stop Richie from looking so hurt again. )

I only liked it because I like you.

( There. Unambiguous, unable to be confused. Exactly what he means. His chest heaves like maybe he needs to grab his inhaler, but Eddie doesn't move to get it. This is absolutely more important. )

[Eddie looks like he's going to cry, and like usual, Richie gets stupid impulses, like wanting to put a thumb under his eye, only now, for the first time in his whole fucking life, for the years that he's been this way, he thinks maybe it would be alright if he did.

(He doesn't because he's not there yet. But entertaining the thought is wild enough.)

Richie snorts, a loud, gross sound, and then shakes his head. He ends up eyes locked with Eddie's again, like magnets pull him back.]

No fucking shit, Eds. No, I loved that part, the horrified look on your face was the highlight of the experience for me, personally.

[He can joke about it, because he thinks he gets that now, the fear, because Eddie is the same as him, felt the same way he did, and god, Richie must have looked just as terribly stunned, huh? No wonder this fell apart so easily.

No jokes spring as quickly to mind when Eddie next speaks, though. Instead Richie is painfully aware of how his face just sort of morphs into a dopey, open mouthed grin as the words hit him, right in the chest. He's actually quiet for a second, awed and completely overcome. Happy. Fuck, he's happy.

He's scared, too.]

Me too. Me too. About you, obviously, I don't- I'm not like the Narcissus of the spheres, fawning over my own reflection, I-

[Eddie was brave. He can be too. It's only a fraction of the truth, really.]

Yeah. I like you.

Stop it, I didn't plan it or anything.

( His face flushes red, but Eddie's smiling now. Grinning even, despite the joke at his embarrassing expense. It's funny now, of course it is, because everything is actually okay. More or less. Sure it took a traumatising trip through a random dome to get there, but honestly Eddie can barely remember the fear of that place now.

How could he possibly spend any time thinking about that, when Richie is beaming at him like this?

Eddie's hands flex a little against Richie's shoulders, but he doesn't make any attempt to move them. If anything he shuffles a little closer, holding on with a little more intent. It's not exactly a big step, hardly dramatic at all really, but after weeks of barely even touching elbows it feels enormous. )

Good. I'm– that's really good. ( It doesn't even begin to express how he's actually feeling right now, but there's honestly no way for Eddie to put that into words right now.

His stomach is still swooping like he's just fallen off a building, and his cheeks are going to hurt soon from how widely he's smiling. There's certainly no tears any more, but his face is still tracked with the evidence, and he thinks Richie's cheeks are probably in a similar state.. It's messy. But he doesn't care. )

Do we, uh... can we have a do-over then?

( Even after their confessions, Eddie's heart still thunders in his chest as he asks. )

[Anything that happened or is happening outside of these five minutes, and this corridor, currently doesn't mean shit to Richie.

He tracks the movement of Eddie stepping closer to him with wide eyes, and his mouth feels dry again, but it's not because of anything malicious in Richie's mind, this time. He withdraws his hands from Eddie quick as flash to wipe them on his pants, the wide grin still on his face daring Eddie to comment, and then they're back on Eddie, hovering awkwardly for just long enough to be noticeable until they settle, one on his waist, one against the small of his back.]

Yup. Good.

[He echoes the word, intending it to be teasing, but he's unable to keep the smile out of his voice, and instead just sounds like an overjoyed doofus. Probably no way to play that one off. Richie doesn't even care. He doesn't care about anything else at all.]

Well, Edward Kasprak. [He's stalling. Falling back on a lilted tone and raised eyebrows, because what the hell else is he meant to do, when Eddie just says that? Says that he wants to kiss Richie again? This is the kind of thing he fully expected to never, ever hear outside of a good dream.]

I normally don't put out before the first date, but we've already had a traumatic experience, so, you know, uh- [The joke is falling apart real quick, because there's no joking way to say 'hell yes'. His eyes drop, incredibly void of subtlety, to Eddie's mouth.] Better make up for it.

[It's clumsy, and yes, messy, when Richie leans in to try again.]

( To his credit, Eddie only worries a normal amount when Richie's hands briefly fall away. He doesn't spiral, doesn't panic. He just sort of frowns a little, and it smooths away the moment they're back. This is already so incredibly different from where they were just a few weeks ago – hell, a few hours ago – that it's easy to feel confident.

He doesn't expect it to last, but while its here Eddie feels invincible.

The suggestion of a Voice doesn't even throw him off – it's not a choice Richie makes, any more than the wheezing of Eddie's chest and he gets that. When the moment isn't this huge he'll probably have more to say about it, but for now he gets it. This has been a long time coming, of course they're nervous. )

Beep beep, alright?

( He takes care this time, leaning in slower. Eddie's hand comes up until his fingers are touching Richie's cheek, and he's not really guiding anything so much as keeping track of where his face is. It means that this time, when their lips connect it is actually on target. The stupid smiles are only impeding on things a little bit.

It's kind of perfect, actually. )

[Richie's riding a similar high, feeling better than he can remember feeling ever before, the weight of years rendered insignificant. It's staggering, but in a very good way, and only a little bit scary, like the rush from a carnival drop tower.

He sighs dreamily as Eddie leans in to meet him, barely joking, and covers Eddie's hand with his own.]

Lips zippered.

[For once, he means it. Richie shuts his mouth and presses back into the kiss, and boy howdy, it was one thing to kiss Eddie on a whim, his hands sticky with blood and his head swimming immediately afterwards with shame, but this is an entirely different beast.

He was scared, then. Richie's been scared for a really long time. But right now, thinking of nothing but scribbling on a cast and socked feet nudging his face and two ice creams, never one, he doesn't feel scared at all.

After a moment, he pulls back just far enough to start peppering sloppy kisses all over Eddie's cheek, smacking his lips exaggeratedly, with an accompanying mwah! each time.]

( There's a strong urge to look around them and make sure there's no one observing them. A holdover from Derry, naturally, where even a hand clapped on a shoulder too gently could result in all sorts of ridicule and torture. If anyone were to catch them kissing back home–

well, Eddie doesn't like to think about how that might end.

It's different here though, and sure there are some pretty awful dangers lurking but at least he doesn't have to worry about the consequences of Richie scattering kisses over his face. All Eddie has to do is scrunch his face up, grabbing hold of Richie's shoulders to keep him from going anywhere even as he shrieks out a laugh. )

Lippers zippered.

( There's a pink flush to his cheeks and ears that he just can't get rid of, and even as he tries to get out a form of protest it just comes out hollow. After all, he is giggling through the whole thing as he wiggles his head out of Richie's reach. )

Richie, Jesus you're gonna slobber all over my face!

Edited 2020-08-08 04:26 (UTC)

[Richie's heard Eddie laugh a whole lot of different ways.

He's heard how Eddie laughs when he's mad and doesn't want to, but can't help it. He's heard the way he wheezes when he's trying not to let anyone hear, and the wild sort of shriek he makes when he's not thinking about who hears at all, like the time Richie tried to dunk Stan at the quarry, and copped a mouthful of water for his efforts, instead.

This laugh is different. It's more like a giggle- and he's sure saying as much would earn a smack from Eddie- unrestrained and joyful, and it fills up every hollow between Richie's ribs. He's still astounded this is happening.]

Not if I keep my lippahs zippah'd I won't!

[But he stops all the same, instead just standing there staring at Eddie and grinning like he doesn't even know he's doing it.]

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( closed ) i think you ought to stay away from here

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