Author's note: Richie and Eddie start getting a little frisky with each other at the end of the chapter. Nothing crazy, just making out and some light above-the-waist petting, but just so you guys aren't suprised by it. :)
Brave
Chapter 12 – Lucky
When he parked his car in front of the inn and turned off the motor, Richie examined his bloody lip in the rearview mirror. He immediately winced away, because there was absolutely no way he'd be able to hide his injury from the rest of the Losers now; the corner of his mouth was swollen and bright red around the deep maroon of the bloody cut that had opened up there.
"Fuck," Richie muttered, pressing his fingers against the puffy skin. "Bastard did a number on me, didn't he? I hope his face looks even worse. Even though it already did with that fucking Meg Ryan-looking haircut."
Eddie was oddly quiet next to him, so Richie glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Eddie's head was bowed, and he was frowning deeply down into his lap.
"Would you be offended if I told everyone you got pissed off and punched me?" Richie asked. He had meant it as a joke, but only awkward silence met his ears.
Eddie didn't reply right away, but kept his head down, his frown deepening. "If that's what you want to tell people…" he began, but then trailed off, shrugging.
Richie shook his head and replied, "No, that was a stupid thing to say." Heaving a breath, Richie stared out of his window, wondering when in the hell this tenseness had settled over him and Eddie. Richie wasn't sure what it was, but it felt like he could cut it with a knife, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.
Things hadn't felt like this, even right after those assholes had attacked them. This feeling had grown to consume them somewhere on the drive back from the Kissing Bridge, and goddamn it, Richie just wanted it to go away. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. Not for them.
Richie rested his elbow on the armrest on his door, then he pressed his hand against his forehead and closed his eyes. He desperately wished that things could go back to the way they were just that very morning. When he and Eddie had been arguing over the way they liked their coffee. When Eddie had told him he loved him and kissed him fiercely. When he had been holding Eddie on the Kissing Bridge, feeling like everything was right with the world, just before those assholes had shown up.
"Look, Rich," Eddie said after nearly a minute. "Maybe…I don't know. Maybe we should just tell them."
Richie pulled his hand away from his face, glancing quickly at Eddie.
"And I hate suggesting it like this," Eddie added hastily. "Because it shouldn't be something you feel like you have to do. It shouldn't be something you feel pressured into. It shouldn't be something those bastards make you do. I just…I can't help thinking that it would help if we could be open with them about this."
"Yeah," Richie agreed before he added, "if they don't fucking hate my guts in the process."
"They're not going to hate you," Eddie said, laying a soft hand on Richie's arm. "I don't. Ben doesn't. My nurse, James didn't."
"Those bastards do."
"Those bastards are fucking trash that don't even know you. They're about as reliable as Bowers here."
"I know, I know," Richie muttered, running his hands through his hair. "I just…fuck." He leaned his head forward slightly, then slammed it back against the headrest in frustration. "I just want to be with you. Why does that have to be such a fucking issue? It shouldn't even be anyone else's business but ours. Ben and Bev decide they're madly in love with each other, and no one bats an eye, but just because we're two dudes, all fucking hell breaks loose. This is exactly what I was afraid of and why I hid the truth for so long. Because I didn't think I'd ever be ready for this shit."
Eddie withdrew his hand from Richie's arm, pulling it into his lap and staring down at it again.
"Christ, Eds, I'm sorry," Richie said. "I'm being an asshole." If Eddie was already questioning Richie's commitment to him, then Richie talking about how he hadn't really been ready for all of this wasn't going to make him feel any better.
Eddie shook his head. "You're angry. So am I, and we have every right to be."
"And that doesn't mean I don't still want this," Richie said firmly. He turned in his seat towards Eddie, reaching out and taking one of Eddie's hands in his. He held it firmly for a moment before he said, "Yeah, I'm fucking terrified of all the shit we're going to have to face together, but…that's how I want to take them on – together. I've been scared of this shit for almost thirty years, ever since I first realized I had feelings for you. You think I haven't imagined all of this and worse when I lay awake at night?" Richie shook his head, squeezing Eddie's hand even more tightly. "None of it ever made me stop wanting you."
Eddie's frown momentarily deepened, and Richie thought he caught that glimmer of tears in his eyes again. Eddie pulled his hand out of Richie's, then he leaned forward, burying his head in Richie's shoulder. He brought his arms up next, wrapping his hands around the back of Richie's neck.
Richie thought Eddie wanted to hug him more, but he couldn't quite get his arms up that much without pulling at his stitches. So Richie snaked his arms around Eddie's back, pulling him against him gently.
"I promise, Eds," Richie whispered. "Nothing anyone can do could make me stop loving you or wanting you. Not even Pennywise could, and he was the scariest fucking thing on the face of the planet."
Eddie didn't respond, but Richie felt his hands briefly squeezing at the back of his neck.
"All right," Richie said when he started to break the hug. He pulled back until he could see Eddie's eyes. "You want to tell them? Let's tell them."
Eddie suddenly shook his head frantically. "Rich…I only want to do this if you're sure. You know I would never push you do something like this. This needs to be your decision and not anyone else's."
Richie nodded. "I know," he said, bringing up his hand to cup Eddie's cheek. "But I think you're right. It's going to be a lot easier if we don't feel like we have to hide this from them. There's really never going to be a more opportune chance to tell them, because I don't really want to lie to them about why I have a fucking fat lip. I just…don't want to lie anymore. And I know they won't hate me. I know." Richie sat back in his seat, staring out the windshield and taking a deep breath. "Ben didn't. I know the others won't either." He closed his eyes, mustering up his courage and pushing down every fear that that fucking space clown had ever tried to feed him.
"No, they won't," Eddie agreed softly. "Just like we didn't judge Ben for being overweight, or Stan for being Jewish, or you guys didn't judge me for being a hypochondriacal mess with mommy issues up the ass."
"Oh, that's where you're wrong," Richie disagreed. "We did judge you for that, you fucking Norman Bates wannabe."
"Shut up," Eddie muttered, swatting playfully at Richie's shoulder. "No, you didn't, because that's not what our friendship is about. Never has been, never will be. That's why we became friends in the first place – because we found the love and acceptance with each other that we never had anywhere else."
Richie sought out Eddie's hand in his and gave him a firm smile. "I know," Richie agreed. "And I'm never going to feel more ready for this than I do right now." He closed his eyes once again, still trying to push those last errant doubts out of his mind. "I'm tired of keeping this from them. I'm tired of hiding who the hell I really am, because it's fucking exhausting." When he opened his eyes, he held Eddie's gaze. "I want to be me."
Pausing for a moment, Richie considered his words before he said, "When it's just us, I can be myself completely, and I love you for that. But I want to be myself with them too."
"Me too."
Eddie kept his hand tucked inside Richie's as they made their way up the sidewalk towards the townhouse. Even though Richie's resolve had honestly never been stronger, a tiny part of him hoped that they rest of the Losers would be nowhere in sight. Maybe Ben and Bev would be out having a romantic afternoon of their own, and Mike would be back at the library like normal.
Unfortunately, when Richie and Eddie entered the inn, they could see Beverly, Ben, and even Mike gathered around the bar, playing cards and laughing about something. It made Richie briefly wonder how anyone could be happy with so much shit going on in the world. Because this had been a pretty shitty day for him, all things considered.
Richie then hoped that maybe no one would even notice his swollen lip, and he'd have no reason to bring up the subject in the first place. Even though Richie knew that everyone who even took one good look at him would see it.
"Richie, oh my god," Beverly immediately said when Richie and Eddie got to the doorway to the lounge. "What happened to you?" She was on her feet a moment later, joining them in the doorway, and pressing her hands to Richie's cheeks. She leaned up on her toes, examining his injury.
Bev could always be counted on.
"Um," Richie spat out, not even sure how to get this conversation started. He could vaguely still feel Eddie's hand still inside his, and the absolutely crazy thing was that none of the others seemed to notice or care. Maybe Eddie was right after all; maybe they could see this coming a mile away.
Richie's eyes went past Beverly and he focused first on Mike and then on Ben. Ben's own gaze was intense, watching Richie closely and seeming to understand in just a few moments. He gave Richie a brief but encouraging smile.
"Yeah," Richie said, still stalling. "Actually, let me get a drink first, and then we'll fucking tell you everything. Even about how I fucked Eddie's mom."
"Dude, shut the fuck up," Eddie muttered. "We don't want the gory details of that, believe me."
Richie had made his way over to the back of the bar, grabbing a clean glass and filling it halfway up with bourbon. Richie downed a good portion of the glass before slamming it back down on the bar. Then he made his way back around to the other side of the bar and sat down heavily on the one of the stools.
He could feel everyone's eyes on him, and he tried to push away the thought that they were silently judging him. Because those were thoughts that Pennywise had put in his head. Richie finished off the rest of his drink, then cautiously looked around the room.
Eddie had taken the seat on Richie's right, and Bev sat down on the other side of Richie, still watching him in concern. Ben was on the other side of the bar, leaning on it, his eyes never leaving Richie's. Mike was seated at the very end of the bar.
"I sort of really wish Bill was here for this," Richie said, still not quite ready to delve into the matter just yet. "But I'm glad the rest of you are. Um. Because I have something to tell you that has been a long time coming."
Richie leaned back in his seat and stared at his now empty glass, at the very last drops of the amber liquid forming a small puddle in the bottom. Richie really wished he could meet the others' eyes and wasn't so fixated on his glass, but try as he might, he couldn't quite lift his gaze. That little circle of bourbon in the bottom of his glass sort of made Richie wish it would grow and drown him completely.
Rubbing his hands up and down the thighs of his jeans, Richie thought about when he had come out to Ben. How simple Ben had made it for him, and that was what finally made Richie look up. He held Ben's eyes, telling himself that he was just coming out to Ben again. Just Ben, this time with Eddie by his side.
Richie took a deep breath before he said, "In all honesty, I never even wanted to fuck Eddie's mom." Richie paused, almost waiting for someone to insert a joke, to take away some of strangling fear he felt in that moment, but no one did. Richie wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or not.
"All right," Richie muttered, glancing down at his hands and then back up to Ben again. Richie stuck out his tongue at the corner of his mouth, tasting the coppery tang of blood still present there. He still didn't go on, and Jesus Christ, why was this so hard? Why couldn't he just come right out and say it already? Why did it feel like there was a gigantic lump sitting in the middle of his throat, making it so hard to speak?
A moment later, Eddie placed a warm and calming hand on Richie's shoulder, squeezing it tightly. Then Ben reached across the bar, laying his hand on Richie's other shoulder. Ben stared at him deeply, his kind hazel eyes never moving, never wavering.
"Whatever it is, man, you can tell us," Ben told him, and even though Ben was already fully aware of what was coming, Richie appreciated his words nonetheless.
"I know," Richie said, closing his eyes one last time. His heart was beating so hard in his chest, it felt like it might explode. His ears were rushing with the sound of it, and perhaps that was a good thing, momentarily drowning out the sound of everyone else in the room. He swallowed, bowing his head as he whispered, "I'm gay."
There was that ridiculously long moment of silence again, just like when he had come out to Ben. Richie imagined that everyone was about to get to their feet and storm out of the room in disgust, even though he knew that at least half of them wouldn't. Ben wouldn't and Eddie wouldn't. It was just the others that he wasn't so sure about.
A moment later, Beverly was the first one to stand up, but she didn't leave the room like Richie had been anticipating. Ben's and Eddie's hands had fallen away from Richie's shoulders, and the next thing he knew, Beverly was pulling Richie into her arms.
"Oh, Richie," Beverly whispered, squeezing his shoulders ridiculously tightly. "How could ever think that that would change how we feel about you?"
Richie turned on his barstool slightly until he was facing Beverly fully. He still hadn't opened his eyes, because he wasn't quite ready for that yet. He pressed his head into Beverly's shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. Richie desperately tried to think of something to say, to try to get his throat to form the words, but all that came out was a choked sob.
Then there was a hand on his shoulder again, but Richie didn't look to see who it belonged to. Then a few seconds later, Mike said, "We still love you, man." Silence passed, and then Mike asked, "You know that, right?"
Again, Richie had the urge to respond but he couldn't. His heart was still beating too hard and his throat still felt too tight. He gently pulled away from Beverly, another sob escaping him. He hadn't quite been aware of the fact that his eyes had filled with tears, but they were soon spilling down his cheeks. Richie pulled off his glasses, because they were already getting foggy, but deep down, Richie knew it was so he didn't have to quite look anyone in the eye yet. He didn't know why, but even with the others' reassuring words, he still didn't quite feel ready for that. Richie buried his head in the crook of his arm, rubbing at his face harshly.
"I know," Richie finally whispered when he lowered his arm. He took a moment to rub his glasses off on his sweatshirt, wiping away any tears and fog that had settled into the lenses. He made a production of putting them back on before he raised his gaze to Ben again. To Ben's kind, unwavering gaze. "And I knew you guys wouldn't care, but…Jesus." He stared up at the ceiling in exasperation, feeling all the years of pent-up secrets and lies slowly seeping away. "Thirty fucking years of being in the closet and convincing yourself that everyone will hate you fucks with a person's head. Not to mention, that goddamned space clown who hammered that shit into my brain."
"We don't hate you," Mike said warmly, running his hand up and down Richie's back. "Believe me, if your regular obnoxious self couldn't make us hate you, then nothing will."
"Seriously," Eddie agreed, "you tell anyone who will listen that you've fucked my mom six ways from Sunday, and you're worried about being gay."
Richie sniffled before he let out of a soft breath, somewhere between a laugh and another sob. "Yeah and…um," he muttered, quickly glancing at Eddie, making sure that it was okay with him to reveal the next part. "That's not quite everything."
Eddie smiled at him encouragingly, reaching out and taking Richie's hand in his once more. Again, Richie was struck by the fact that none of the other Losers seemed to notice or even care when they did this.
Richie took a deep breath before he said, "All right, look." Richie paused, pressing his free hand over his mouth for a moment. He'd already gotten through the hardest part of this conversation, so why was revealing the truth about he and Eddie suddenly so fucking scary? Maybe because then, Richie would have no more secrets. No more lies to hide behind. The Losers would know absolutely everything about him, and that thought was so foreign to him. Richie had always had secrets, was so used to lying, so who would he be without any of that?
Free? Would he be free? Free to be himself and to talk about his love life like it was fucking normal? Holy shit, that was a terrifying and a thrilling thought all at once, so Richie plunged on ahead, because he suddenly wanted it. Wanted it and craved it as much as he did Eddie.
"Eddie and I have been sort of in love with each other for thirty years," Richie said, staring down at his empty glass again. "We confessed our love to each other when he was in the hospital and we're together now. And if you have a problem with that, then I really don't know what to tell you."
"You act like this is news, dude," Ben said warmly. His head was propped up in his hand and he was watching Richie and Eddie happily. "You two have been doing nothing but exuding sexual tension since we got back to Derry. I was only wondering how long it would be before you admitted it to yourselves, let alone the rest of the world."
"Not to mention," Mike said, "do you have any idea how obvious it was to the rest of us the way you two used that hammock as an excuse to touch each other?"
"I told you we were way too damn obvious," Eddie told him, even as his cheeks burned a deep shade of red that matched his sweatshirt.
Beverly had taken her seat again, but she laid a hand over Richie's arm. "The last clue I needed was this morning when you pretended it wasn't a big deal that you two shared a bed last night."
"It wasn't a big deal!" Eddie immediately interjected. "Jesus Christ, I'm still healing from where Pennywise fucking stabbed me, and you guys think Richie and I were getting it on. I'm flattered that you assume I have that much energy right now. I only got out of the hospital yesterday."
Beverly giggled quietly before she said, "And well…Richie was talking about how lucky he was to have you. That kind of made me realize exactly what was happening."
"You said that?" Eddie asked quietly, watching him.
"Yeah, man," Richie replied, grinning at Eddie. He turned his hand over in Eddie's grasp, threading his fingers in between Eddie's. "I am. I'm so fucking lucky."
Richie took a moment to focus on his and Eddie's hands, gripped together. Then Richie raised his eyes and looked at each of the Losers in turn: to Ben, Beverly, and finally to Mike, who had taken up his seat at the end of the bar again. They were all watching him with nothing but love and acceptance, and Jesus Christ, why had Richie ever thought that this would have been any different? Why did he let that fucking clown, why did he let society dictate to him how his friends would feel about him if they knew the truth? Why had he hidden so much of himself away for so long? Why had it taken him so goddamned long to come out of the closet?
"Who said it first?" Beverly asked then, stirring Richie from his thoughts.
"Um," Richie said, a little bit caught off guard by the question. Here he was, talking about his and Eddie's relationship like it was the most normal conversation in the world. And maybe it was. Finally. Richie stole a glance at Eddie before he said, "I guess technically I did. But it was stupid." Richie rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. "I confessed everything to Eddie while he was sleeping, thinking and hoping that he couldn't hear me."
"And I woke up and fucking kissed the shit out of him," Eddie said proudly.
"Go, Eds," Ben said, leaning across the bar and clapping a hand on Eddie's shoulder.
"So you were aware of what was going on when you were in a coma?" Mike asked.
"Sort of," Eddie said, frowning in thought. "It kind of felt like I was floating in an endless void, but yeah, I could hear things. Most of them sounded like they were coming from the end of a long tunnel, and not all of them made sense to me, but…some did." He tightened his grip on Richie's hand, smiling at him.
There was that feeling again flooding through Richie – the realization of how fucking lucky and loved he was. The Losers truly were his family in every sense of the word, and Richie wasn't quite sure what he had done to deserve them. Or to deserve Eddie's deep and undying love for him either.
"And before anyone asks," Eddie volunteered, "I'm bisexual and leaving Myra. Obviously."
"Good for you," Beverly said quietly. "We don't know her, but from what you've said about her…she's not good for you."
"She isn't," Eddie agreed, shaking his head. "It was like marrying my mother and fuck." Eddie pressed a hand over his eyes.
"Even though being married to and fucking your mom wouldn't be that bad," Richie said thoughtfully.
"Dude," Eddie muttered, staring at Richie out of the corner of his eye. "Can you not? Here I thought that coming out would put an end to your stupid jokes about my fucking dead mother!"
"You love it," Richie said, leaning towards Eddie and pressing a kiss to Eddie's cheek. Then Richie's heart gave an uncomfortable thump, because he had acted without even really thinking about it. But one look around at the other Losers told him that no one cared. No one gave a rat's ass whether he kissed Eddie or held his hand. No one cared, and holy shit, that was an amazing feeling.
Richie could be himself, he could love Eddie like he wanted, and the Losers still loved him.
But then Richie reminded himself of the task at hand and why they were having this conversation in the first place. He took a deep breath before he said, "And to make a long story short, we had a run-in with those assholes who beat up Adrian and Don." Richie gestured to his swollen lip, then glanced at Mike.
"Did you call the police?" Mike immediately asked in concern. "I can't believe they still haven't been caught, but…I honestly don't know why I'm surprised." Mike rubbed a hand over his face. "Maybe I thought that killing Pennywise once and for all would put an end to the shoddy police work here."
"Yeah, I called the police to report where they were, but…I didn't report this incident," Richie said. "Keep in mind that you're the only people I've come out to." Richie stressed those words, even though he knew he didn't have to. The Losers were well aware of his position. "I don't think those assholes recognized me, and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't need anyone outing me on social media, and god knows what could happen if I made a police report about this."
Richie was once again consumed by a feeling of guilt, because he wasn't fully reporting those assholes like he knew he should. They needed to be taken off the streets before they hurt someone else, and Richie knew he could be helping someone else to get hurt by not speaking up. "Is that selfish?" he asked tentatively.
"No," Ben said. "It's just fucked up that the victims in a goddamn crime feel like they can't make a police report, because of the possible backlash."
"Are you two okay otherwise?" Beverly asked, her hand going up to Richie's lip, but not quite touching it. "We should get some ice on that, or it's going to swell up even more by tomorrow."
"There's some ice back here," Ben said, bending down and rummaging through the bar supplies.
Ben was able to make an ice pack out of a plastic baggie and a clean bar rag. He filled the bag with ice before wrapping it in the rag and lifting it to Richie's face. Richie took it from him, pressing it against the side of his mouth. He almost hadn't realized just how much his mouth had been throbbing with every beat of his heart. He had been so consumed with the conversation he had been having, his injuries had been all but forgotten. As soon as the ice was up against his mouth, however, he could feel the intense throbbing there subside.
"That is the extent of it, right?" Beverly asked, her eyes going back and forth between Richie and Eddie. "We don't need to rush you two to the hospital, do we?"
"No, we're all right," Eddie said, trying his best to sooth Beverly's fears. "Richie got worst of it and…we're mostly just shaken."
In the end, the Losers sufficiently distracted Richie and Eddie from the events of the day. They played games well into the night and ordered a pizza, laughing their asses off at silly jokes and reminiscing about stupid things they had done over the years. It was exactly what Richie needed, his friends treating him like they always had, even though they now knew every single one of Richie's secrets.
It was nice, but that feeling didn't last nearly long enough.
Richie and Eddie settled into bed again that evening, wrapped around each other. Eddie drifted off almost immediately, but Richie was still wide awake, watching Eddie's chest rise and fall gently. Richie smiled, because he still thought about that day back on the lawn of the house on Neibolt Street when he thought Eddie had stopped breathing entirely. He still thought about all the countless times Eddie struggled to breath, reaching for his inhaler. So Richie loved whenever Eddie's breathing was coming gentle and slow.
But then Richie sighed, his mind wandering back to all the other shit that had happened that day. Disengaging himself from Eddie, Richie flopped over onto his back, staring up at the darkened ceiling.
It was amazing. Richie had thought that these sleepless nights would leave him now considering the fact that he was out and accepted by the rest of the Losers, but no. Certain assholes had completely ruined what should have been a fucking dream come true for him.
Eddie awoke sometime later to an episode of Dateline on the television. A glance at the clock on the bedside table told him that it was just after midnight. On his other side, Richie was sitting up in bed, propped up on a stack of pillows, his eyes seemingly glued to the television. At first, Eddie was surprised that Richie had chosen to watch this given that Richie didn't seem too thrilled about listening to true crime shit while he was in bed. But one good look at the other man told Eddie that Richie wasn't really watching. His eyes were unfocused. Glassy. He didn't even seem to notice that Eddie was stirring next to him, and if Eddie didn't know any better, he'd think that Richie was drunk. Richie, however, had only had that half a glass of bourbon before they had talked to the Losers.
"Richie?" Eddie asked quietly, shifting under the covers. "Are you okay?"
Richie paused, staring down at Eddie, then he gave a half-hearted smile. "Yeah."
"No, you're not," Eddie said, immediately recognizing the hesitancy in Richie's voice. Eddie then started to push himself into a sitting position. When he had made it, and his stitches had stopped throbbing, he turned more fully towards Richie. He laid a hand on Richie's arm and said, "I thought you were feeling better since we told everyone."
"I am," Richie said, his tone not matching his words. Then he amended, "I was. I still am."
Richie heaved a sign and ran a hand through his hair, and Eddie was pretty sure it wasn't the first time he had done so that evening. His already unruly hair was sticking up even more, standing up at even odder angles than usual.
"It's such a relief to not have to hide it from them anymore," Richie said. "It is. You have no idea what a weight it is off my shoulders to know that the most important people in my life really don't give a fuck if I'm gay or not." Richie paused for a very long time, staring ahead at the television without really watching it. "So why do I keep going over what those assholes said to me?" Richie asked, finally meeting Eddie's gaze. "They're assholes! Their opinion shouldn't matter! I should be focusing on what our friends think, right?"
"Yeah," Eddie agreed. He let his hand drift down Richie's arm, seeking out Richie's fingers and winding his own fingers through them. "That isn't always easy, though. I think maybe we take our friends' opinions for granted, because they are our friends. Of course they're going to be loving and supportive. But with strangers…they're not invested in us, so…it seems like their words sometimes carry more weight. Like they're free to speak the truth more than anyone else, but…Rich? Their words were fueled by hate."
Richie took a deep breath and replied, "I know. I know they were. Which is why it should be so easy to discount it, but…" Richie trailed off, staring up at the ceiling. "You know what really bothered me the most about what they said? It wasn't the names. I had sort of been expecting those and…it wasn't the first time I've heard them. It was when that Webby guy said I was disgusting." Richie lowered his gaze towards Eddie and added, "I don't know if you heard that, because you were still in the car, but…yeah. He said I was disgusting." Richie let out a soft breath of disbelief and shook his head. "I just want to love you. Why is that disgusting? Why am I disgusting for it?"
Richie's tone had begun to sound a bit desperate, and if Eddie wasn't mistaken, he thought he could hear the faintest hint of sob hidden there.
"You aren't." Eddie lifted his free hand, pressed it against Richie's cheek, and rubbed his thumb over the stubble there. "Not for that – for this anyway. I mean, yeah, you are completely obnoxious and gross. All it takes is one joke about my mom to know that, but…your love for me is one of the reasons why I fell in love with you in the first place. That's not gross. That's not disgusting. I don't think so, and none of the other Losers think it is either. And I fucking hate those assholes for making you think that in the first place."
"I know," Richie said around a somber smile. He leaned into Eddie's hand, then lifted his own free hand to it, pressing his palm over the back of Eddie's hand. "And I don't know why it's that word specifically that's bothering me so much. Maybe because love is supposed to be…wholesome. Pure. And they're trying to make it into something…tainted."
"They don't understand it, Rich," Eddie told him. "I actually doubt they even understand what it's like to love someone at all, and that's pretty fucking sad. And…" Eddie trailed off, swallowing hard against his words.
"What?"
"I wonder if I would even know what real love was if not for you and the rest of the Losers," Eddie said. "I mean, my mother isn't comparable to those assholes, but she still didn't exactly do a good job of showing me what love really was. All she knew was control and…forcing me into a box I didn't quite fit in. And it was easy for me to believe her, you know? When she told me I was sick, and that I had asthma, and…it was so easy for me to discount how my own body felt. All I knew were her lies and that shit fucks with a person's head. I know it does. And all of the Losers helped me, but…I don't know if you realize just how much you've done for me. Shit, I wouldn't even be sitting here now if not for you."
"I could never leave you down there," Richie said, shaking his head firmly. He laid a hand over Eddie's cheek now. "I didn't care if I died in the process, because I just couldn't live with myself if I knew you were down in It's lair for all eternity. I love you too much for that."
Eddie smiled, turning his head into Richie's hand and kissing his palm. "And do you realize how long it's been since I've needed my inhaler?"
It was Richie's turn to smile. "Yeah. I didn't really want to bring it to your attention, but I did wonder if you noticed."
"I have," Eddie said firmly. "And I realize how far I've come. Jesus, remember when they had me on oxygen in the hospital and I still thought I needed my inhaler? And now…I don't even remember the last time I felt compelled to reach for it. Because of you, Rich. You're fucking amazing, okay? And anyone who thinks otherwise just doesn't know you, and that's their fucking loss."
Richie reached his hand around, tugging at the back of Eddie's neck and pulling Eddie towards him. Eddie went at first, leaning into Richie's chest, his head tucked underneath Richie's chin. It was a wonderful feeling, Richie's chest so warm and solid underneath him, but it was only a moment before Eddie's scar started to throb in pain at the stretch.
"I love you, but I can't lay like this, Rich," Eddie said, his voice muffled by Richie's t-shirt.
"What?"
"It's too uncomfortable on my stitches," Eddie said, slowly pushing away from Richie. He grimaced as he went, hissing in a sharp intake of breath.
"Are you okay?" Richie asked, leaning towards Eddie, voice full of concern. "Do you need your meds?"
"No," Eddie replied, "I just need to be on my back." He laid back down against his pillow, exhaling in relief as he did.
Richie laid down next to him and scooted closer, reaching out an arm to wrap around Eddie's middle. Then he kissed Eddie's cheek before he pillowed his head against Eddie's shoulder.
They laid like that for a while, but then Eddie reached across his chest, placing a gentle hand on Richie's chin. He directed Richie's gaze towards him he captured Richie's lips in a kiss, almost immediately pressing his tongue against Richie's lips.
For the very first time since they had gotten together, Eddie very suddenly had a burning desire for more from Richie, and he really wasn't quite sure where that feeling was coming from. Perhaps it was the events of the day that really made him realize how very much he loved the man in front of him. Eddie had always known he had loved Richie of course, but Eddie supposed it was a culmination of the events at the Kissing Bridge that suddenly made him want to show Richie how much he loved and appreciated him.
Eddie tentatively lifted up the bottom hem of Richie's t-shirt, pressing his fingers against the bare skin of his stomach.
"Can I?" Eddie asked, pulling back slightly and searching Richie's eyes.
"God, yeah, Eds." Richie leaned back in for another kiss.
However, Eddie broke the kiss a moment later and said, "I'm not ready for anything…salacious. I just…I just want to…be closer."
"Whatever you want," Richie said reassuringly. He trailed kisses along Eddie's jaw, slowly making his way back towards Eddie's ear, which drew a shiver from the other man. Richie smiled against the skin of Eddie's neck and said, "I meant what I said – if all we ever do is share a mattress, I will die a happy man. But if you want to start…exploring, I'm down for that too."
Eddie flattened his palm against Richie's stomach, then trailed his hand back to Richie's hip, squeezing it tightly. "You were right," Eddie whispered, capturing Richie's lips in a quick kiss again. "Your love handles give me something to hold onto."
"Told you," Richie said around a smile, dipping back down to press kisses behind Eddie's ear and down his neck.
A moment later, Richie's own hand found the bottom of Eddie's t-shirt, pushing it up slowly. At first, Richie took a moment to slowly run his hand up and down Eddie's bandages where his scar would be. This made Eddie shiver once again.
Richie kissed the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder before he said, "Once you're fully healed and get your stitches out, I have this insane urge to cover your scar in kisses."
Eddie sucked in a shuddered sigh at the feel of Richie's breath against his skin. He leaned his head back into his pillow a little farther and asked, "That thought doesn't…gross you out?"
"God, no," Richie murmured, sucking in Eddie's bottom lip in a quick kiss. "I told you, it's nothing but beautiful to me, and I want you to know that. I…want to make it into something…better for you."
"Rich," Eddie said, returning Richie's favor of trailing kisses along Richie's jaw. Eddie let go of Richie's hip, then curled his hand around Richie's back, dragging his nails lightly along Richie's skin.
Richie ran his hand down along Eddie's bandages again before he paused at the thin line of skin between the bandages and waistband of Eddie's pajama pants. Richie dipped a single finger under the elastic.
"Is this okay?" Richie asked before he went any farther.
"Yeah," Eddie replied, sucking gently against Richie's neck. "Just…don't go too far down. I'm not…ready for that yet."
Richie sunk his hand under the elastic, rubbing it against the skin along Eddie's hip, his fingers teasing at the slight curve of Eddie's ass. "I won't," Richie reassured him. "But this okay?"
Eddie nodded against Richie's neck. "Yeah. More than okay."
"Okay," Richie said, seeking out Eddie's lips in a kiss again. "Just tell me if it's too much and you need to stop."
"It's not too much," Eddie said, using his hand on Richie's back to pull him closer. "It's…just right." Eddie laughed softly against the skin of Richie's jaw before he added, "And this is absolutely insane to me, because I never had these urges with Myra."
Richie lifted his leg and slipped it in between Eddie's, his knee touching ever so slightly at the crotch of Eddie's pajama pants. Richie hummed in response, smiling and kissing at Eddie's neck again.
"Can't help it if I'm just that sexy," Richie replied.
It suddenly occurred to Eddie that he hadn't told Richie just how hot he thought he was. Richie had already told Eddie he was sexy, no matter how much Eddie tried to argue the matter, but Eddie had never returned the favor. Eddie didn't necessarily feel the need to, since Richie already pretended to be pretty full of himself, but considering the circumstances, Eddie thought it was warranted.
"Fuck, you are," Eddie said. He brought his hand around to Richie's front, running his fingers up along Richie's chest. Eddie snuck his fingers behind Richie's neck, squeezing it tightly. "You turn me on like no one ever has. Even with your out-of-shape dad bod."
"Yeah?" Richie asked, leaning back to stare down into Eddie's eyes.
"Yeah," Eddie said, pulling Richie back in for another kiss. He turned his head, deepening the kiss and pressing his tongue into Richie's mouth.
Richie wrapped his hand around Eddie's hip a little more, trailing it along the very bottom of Eddie's bandages, skirting the top of Eddie's ass. Eddie moaned into Richie's mouth, lifting his leg to wrap it around Richie's, then bucked his hips up slightly into Richie's knee.
"Fuck," Eddie said, breaking the kiss and panting heavily into Richie's mouth. "God, I love you so fucking much," Eddie said, staring up into Richie's eyes and, Jesus.
Eddie didn't know if he had ever seen such an intense expression on Richie's face. His eyes were swimming in the glow from the television, the faintest smile on his lips. If Eddie wasn't mistaken, he thought he could see Richie's bottom lip quivering the tiniest bit. Richie pressed his lips together, apparently in an effort to quell it, but his eyes were still shimmering with unshed tears.
"I don't know if I tell you that enough," Eddie added.
"You do," Richie whispered, "just…never while we were feeling each other up before. That shit's intense. And I love you too." Richie settled his head on Eddie's shoulder again, laving kisses lazily along Eddie's neck.
Eddie hummed in response, tilting his head away from Richie to give him easier access. Richie, however, didn't further his activity, but his kisses slowly trailed off. Eddie had been slightly nervous about starting something and having it go too far, but Richie seemed to know exactly when they had started toeing that line and had pulled back slightly. Richie never made him feel like he was giving too little, and god, Eddie loved him for it.
"Rich?"
"Hm?"
"I'm lucky to have you too."
Richie momentarily tightened his arm around Eddie, and Eddie thought he could feel Richie's smile against his neck. He pressed one final kiss to Eddie's neck, then brought his hand up and settled it against Eddie's chest, rubbing his thumb over the bandages.
Eddie closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of having Richie wrapped around him. Eddie eventually drifted off, and even his wildest dreams couldn't compete with the crazy turn his life had taken.
God, he was lucky.
To be continued…
Author's note: Yay for tentative sexy times! The last part of this chapter wasn't even supposed to happen yet either, but Richie and Eddie had other ideas. And look at that, this chapter put me over 70,000 words for this story. Did I ever imagine that that stupid clown movie would make me write this much? No, and there doesn't seem to be an end in sight, because there's so much more to cover. I'm stunned, and thank you so much to those of you who have been sending me feedback. I appreciate and love you guys!
