Chapter Text
Richie packed slowly. The opposite of how he’d packed when he’d gotten the call from Mike. He had thrown everything haphazardly into his suitcase, not giving a shit about his clothes being wrinkled. Not caring if his toothpaste exploded and got all over everything. He had been sure he was heading to his death, because Derry was a literal hellmouth. A neatly packed suitcase wasn’t high on his list of priorities.
But it was over now, and things were different.
He was eager to leave Derry, but he wasn’t eager to leave the rest of the Losers. One lose in particular. Eddie. Eddie who had almost died down there in the sewers. Eddie who would have died if Richie hadn’t seen what was about to happen when he was in the deadlights.
“Richie! Richie, come on, wake up!”
Richie’s eyes flew open. He stared up at Eddie’s face, eyes wide with terror even as Eddie smiled down at him.
“Richie! I got him! I think I got him! He’s--
Richie didn’t wait for him to finish the rest of the sentence. He locked his arms around Eddie and rolled the both of them out of the way, just as one of Pennywise’s claws slammed into the rocks beside them. A second later and it would have gone straight through Eddie’s chest. Richie knew. He’d seen it. He’d felt it. Felt like his own heart was being ripped out as he’d watched Pennywise skewer his best friend and then toss him aside like he was nothing.
Eddie wasn’t nothing.
He was everything.
He was --
“Richie?”
The man in question jumped, turning to see Eddie hovering awkwardly near the door. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a loose fitting hoodie, but he still made Richie catch his breath. Beautiful . Richie shook his head, picking up another shirt.
“Whats up, Eddie Spaghetti?” he peeked at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. Richie expected to see the other man rolling his eyes, but Eddie was still frowning, his hands tucked deep in his pockets. He looked small. Smaller than usual.
“I just...I wanted to say goodbye. I’ve got a taxi outside,” he explained.
Richie nodded. He swallowed hard. So this was it. This was goodbye.
“Well, it was good to see you again, Eds. Even if it was under these circumstances. Say hi to your Mom for me. I’m sure she misses my--
“Okay, first of all, my mother died years ago. Have a little respect,” Eddie rolled his eyes. It was such a normal, familiar reaction, Richie couldn’t help but smile. “Second, are you okay?”
Richie paused in his packing, turning to look at Eddie, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked. It was a stupid question. They’d just killed a psychotic clown, alien, shapeshifter thing. No one would fucking be okay.
“I don’t know I...you’re folding your clothes,” Eddie said by way of explanation, gesturing to the shirt in Richie’s hands.
Richie shrugged, tucking the shirt into his suitcase. He flipped the top closed and zipped it.
“Don’t know what to tell ya, Eduardo. I’m a-okay.”
Richie could tell by the way Eddie was looking at him that he didn’t believe him. He flinched in surprise when Eddie rushed forward, locking his arms around Richie’s sides and tucking his face into the taller man’s neck.
“Eddie--
“You might be a-okay, but I’m not,” Eddie mumbled.
Richie hesitated for a moment before he brought his arms around the shorter man, resting his cheek against the top of Eddie’s head. He tried to be subtle about the way he was breathing the other man in. Eddie smelled like shampoo. Not the cheap shit they provided in all the rooms either. He must have brought his own, Richie realized, falling in the with this neurotic little man even more.
“You saw it didn’t you?” Eddie said after a while.
“Saw what?” Richie’s voice was muffled by Eddie’s hair.
“My death. That claw, it was...I mean, if you hadn’t rolled us over it would have gone right through me. But you knew somehow,” Eddie pulled away a little and Richie wished he wouldn’t because he knew he was shaking at this point and there was a lump in his throat and fuck he didn’t want to cry.
“Nah, I saw you annoying me to death. Chasing me around with a bottle of bleach and--
His voice cracked embarrassingly and he pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to hide the trembling of his chin and muffle the sobs threatening to escape.
“I-I saw that claw go through your chest and I thought--I thought you were dead. God, I tried to save you. I really did,” Richie cried, pressing his hand over his mouth again, trying desperately to pull himself together. But then Eddie was pulling his hand away and moving Richie to sit down on the edge of the bed. Richie hid his face in his hands, crying in earnest now as Eddie slid his fingers into Richie’s hair, resting his temple against Richie’s. He stayed close while the other man cried, keeping quiet, waiting for Richie to get it all out.
Richie couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself cry like this. Usually, when he was feeling particularly down on himself and his big ol secret, he’d find a way to distract himself from his sorrows. On the rare occasions his parents looked up from their wine glasses and work parties to do a little actual parenting, it was always to tell him he was doing something wrong. Boys don’t cry, Richie . Boys don’t play with dolls, Richie . BOYS DON’T KISS OTHER BOYS, RICHIE.
When he looked back on this moment later...When he dissected it to within an inch of its life...Richie would say it was that thought that made him do it. He’d said a great big “fuck you” to the clown. Now it was time to say it to his parents.
Richie dropped his hands into his lap, still sniffling as he turned to face Eddie.
Eddie smiled softly.
“There. See? I’m okay. I didn’t die. I’m right--
“I love you.”
Eddie smiled.
“I love you too, Rich.”
Richie shook his head.
“No, no, I mean, I’m in love with you. Fuck, I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen years old...so...there ya ‘ave it gov’na,” he said, his British accent just as awful as it had been when he was a kid because he was too busy freaking out to do a decent job.
Eddie’s eyes widened. So did Richie’s. He’d done it. He’d say it out loud. God, his parents were probably rolling over in their graves, because their song went right and confessed his love to another boy. A boy who wasn’t saying anything.
Richie wanted to throw up.
He opened his mouth to play it off. To make a joke. To fucking say something, but Eddie cut him off, pressing two fingers to Richie’s lips.
“No jokes. Not now,” he said seriously and then he was moving his fingers and pressing his lips to Richie’s.
Richie’s brain short circuited.
It made sense that Eddie would be the one to initiate the kiss. He was always the brave one. Even when he didn’t know it. Before Richie could kiss back, Eddie was pulling away, resting his forehead against Richie’s.
“Fuck, Rich. I-I can’t,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.
Richie’s stomach dropped, his heart seconds away from shattering.
“I’m married,” Eddie sighed. He leaned away from Richie, but reached out to take one of his hands.
“Oh well, we could always have a three way. Though I’m not sure all three of us could fit on a--
“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie gave him a shove, but he was smiling, so Richie figured he wasn’t really in trouble.
Richie stared down at their joined hands, still resting in his lap. He turned his hand over in Eddie’s grasp so he could rub his thumb over the back of the other man’s hand. After a moment he lifted Eddie’s hand and brought it to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over his knuckles.
“So, where does that leave us, Eds?” he asked.
“Don’t call me that,” Eddie reacted on instinct, frowning as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “I don’t know why I always tell you not to call me Eds. I...I like it. I always have,” he admitted.
Richie smiled, kissing Eddie’s hand again.
“I know you do, Spaghetti man.”
Eddie returned Richie’s smile sadly.
“Look, I know I don’t have any right to ask this, but would you---would you wait for me. Please. I-I have to sort some things out. I have to--
Richie hushed him before Eddie worked himself into a panic attack, pulling him into his arms and pressing his lips to his ear.
“I’m not going anywhere, Eds. I mean, I’m getting the fuck out of Derry, but I...I’d wait forever for you.”
It was cheesy as all hell, but it was true. The past few days, Richie remembered everything he used to have. Everything he had been missing for years. Now that he had it back, not just Eddie but all of the Losers, he wasn’t planning on letting them go.
Watching the taxi drive away with Eddie tucked into the backseat was one of the hardest things Richie has ever had to do. But Bev was standing next to him, holding his hand and resting her head on his shoulder, Bill on the other side with a casual arm looped around Richie’s waist.
“You’ll see him again,” Bev said.
Richie smiled.
“I know.”