
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13471299.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      IT_(2017)
  Relationship:
      Eddie_Kaspbrak/Richie_Tozier, Eddie_Kaspbrak/Myra_Kaspbrak
  Character:
      Richie_Tozier, Eddie_Kaspbrak
  Additional Tags:
      other_losers_mentioned_in_passing, mostly_just_reddie, Heroin, junkie
      richie, Homophobia, 17_year_old_sex, Sex_Work, Language, Underage
      Drinking, Drug_Use, Underaged_Drug_Use, Rape/Non-con_Elements, pennywise
      is_referenced_but_doesn't_really_show_up, Sexual_Abuse, Parental_Abuse,
      Spouse_Abuse, verbal/emotional_abuse, really_awful, I'm_Sorry, Is_this
      how_you_tag?, general_awfulness_ahead, first_fic
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-24 Words: 5027
****** My Hero-in the Dark ******
by Zalpal
Summary
     “You need to grow up, Richie. You said you quit. How can you do this
     to us.” The coldness leaking out of Eddie’s voice as it broke.
     Richie is a junkie who ruins his relationship with Eddie until many
     years later. Very dark.
Notes
     So, this is my first fanfic, please go easy on me. Anyways, this is
     going to be very very very dark. I’m using the 1976 birthday from the
     2017 movie because I don’t feel like I know enough about the 50’s to
     write it with the original birthday. The rest of the losers won’t be
     mentioned much this is really just Eddie and Richie. Pennywise did
     happen, but it’s still an AU of course
     Trigger warnings for drug usage, abuse, rape, prostitution,
     abandonment, parental abuse, underaged drinking, homophobia, sexual
     abuse, language, underaged sex (between minors like 16-17ish) mental
     illness, and general awfulness. THE FIRST SECTION IS THE WORST, SKIP
     THE FIRST SECTION IF SEXUAL ABUSE IS A TRIGGER PLEASE. Really just
     don’t read this and let it slip down the reddie tag as better fics
     come up.
See the end of the work for more notes
                                     1995
The room was dark, cold, and empty except for a tall, very thin boy curled
around himself on the filthy mattress surrounded by moth eaten blankets. The
only sound other than his breathing was the scuttering of insects across the
dusty floor and the hiss of the icy wind through the old windows that had long
lost their ability to seal properly. Richie had always been thin, lanky but now
he was skeletal. He was soaked in sweat, shaking. His stomach felt as if it
were trying to burst from his body like a baby xenomorph, his heart raced, his
hair was plastered to his face, head pounding pounding pounding. His glasses
were thrown to the side, cracked. His cracked glasses didn’t matter to him
though, he’d rather not be able to see his abysmal surroundings.
A man walked into the room. Richie turned over to not look at him. It was
easier if he didn’t have to see their faces. He could pretend it wasn’t a
stranger, that it was someone from his past but that was only when he was high
enough he didn’t feel the pain. He didn’t feel the rough dirty nails on his
hips. He didn’t feel the slaps. He didn’t feel the blood dripping down his
thighs after. This was not one of those times. He was not high enough. Richie
was stone cold sober and that was why he was in this situation. He needed a
hit; he needed to get high. The withdrawals were ripping him to shreds.
“Flip over sweetcheeks. Flip over for daddy.” Daddy. The word sent Richie back
to his past, the hands of his own father brutalizing him. He wondered if his
father Wentworth even thought about him anymore or if he was better off without
Richie just like everyone else. This was what Richie was good for, this was all
Richie was good for. The man used one hand to turn Richie’s thin body over.
Richie might have been 6 foot 3 but his tendency to pick a hit over food left
his body at a mere one hundred and forty pounds of bones and sinew. Richie let
his face be pressed into the mattress. Richie let the man lift his hips up and
listened to the horrible melody of a zipper being pulled down. Richie tried to
listen to the pounding blood in his ears instead. The man was rough. Richie
felt like he was watching this happen to someone else, that he hadn’t let this
happen to himself, this wasn’t his life. He fought a demon clown and he
couldn’t get off the h-train. He let strange men fuck his body, treat him like
a toy. He let them hit him, use him. He let himself become nothing. He didn’t
think he’d ever meet a demon more terrifying than IT but heroin was a towering
monster over him dripping sweet black tar from its mouth, promising days of
happiness and then weeks of hell. The man grunted as he finished inside of
Richie. The man stood up and zipped up his pants.
“You’re not a very good whore, are you? You just lay there. You’re lucky I like
that sweet ass of yours or I might not even give you this.” The man tossed a
baggy full of powder to Richie’s prone body before leaving. Leaking blood and
cum Richie reached for the bag. He pulled it close to his body. For the first
time in days, Richie smiled.
 
                                     1992
“Eds, it’s my sixteenth birthday this is what I want for my birthday!”
“Don’t call me Eds” Eddie said before answering “I’ve just never gotten high
before not everyone is a bad seed like you.”
“I’ll put some really bad seed inside of you, Spaghetti Man” Richie said
wiggling his eye brows at the smaller boy. “Besides this will be fun, it even
has your name in them, EDibles!”
Eddie looked at Richie without a smile and said “I am going to kill you.”
Richie leaned in “With kisses?” Eddie put his hand in the bag of flour next to
him quickly flicking it in the tall boy’s face. Richie responded by putting his
hand in the brownie batter and smearing it on Eddie’s face. Eddie shrieked in
response quickly flinging baking powder back in retaliation. Richie grabbed the
sugar dumping it on Eddie cackling “Some sugar ‘cause your ass is so sweet”. He
received an egg to the chest from Eddie in response.
The kitchen was quickly plastered in assorted baking materials. It was a
miracle any of the brownie batter actually made its way into the oven surviving
the battle. The pair spent the time the brownies took to bake scrapping the
floors and walls clean of their mess. Thankfully, Eddie was good at cleaning
because Richie was more trouble than help. Eddie went home after the kitchen
was cleaned.
The rest of the losers were celebrating together tomorrow and the brownies
would be brought to the party that was being hosted at Mike’s barn, but Richie
had convinced Eddie to get high just with him the night before. Richie would
have been lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Not about the weed, he was used
to the weed, but being high with Eddie just seemed bigger. He knew how he felt
about Eddie and he knew he had enough trouble with his trashmouth when he was
sober much less under the influence. He didn’t want Eddie to reject him on his
birthday and then ruin the group and the party tomorrow because he couldn’t
keep his big mouth shut.
Eddie wasn’t allowed to go out two nights in a row. It had been hard enough to
convince Sonia to allow Eddie to go out for the party, though as far as she
knew it was a game night. Sonia was not about to let Eddie spend the night at
her least favorite of loser’s houses the night before. If Eddie couldn’t come
to Richie, Richie would come to Eddie. Eddie left his window unlocked for
Richie every night already and Richie took advantage of that. His home life
wasn’t great and Eddie had tended to the bruises Wentworth left behind more
often than either of the boys would admit. Tonight, was a celebration though.
Tonight, there were no bruises. Richie climbed up to Eddie’s window carrying a
baggy with two brownies in his mouth like it was second nature, it probably was
by now. He didn’t bother knocking, just slipped the window open and climbed
right in. Even though Eddie was expecting him, Eddie still jumped.
They ate the brownies, one might have been significantly larger than the other.
Ten minutes later Eddie was accusing Richie of bringing normal brownies just to
fuck with him. Richie laughed explaining that it takes time. An hour and a half
later it was obvious that these were not normal brownies. “Eds Eds open your
eyes” Richie bumped him with his shoulder.
“I love when you call me Eds.” He said lazily, his head tipping to rest on
Richie’s shoulder. “My eyes are open.” Eddie mumbled with closed eyes.
“Wow. You really must be high to say that. You ok?” Richie tried to not feel
the blush rising to his cheeks from Eddie’s comment, grateful for the dark to
hide the red painting his cheeks.
“I’m always ok with you, ‘Chee” Eddie snuggled into Richie and Richie began to
question whether this was the worst decision he’d ever made or the best.
They held each other in silence for minutes or maybe hours. Time always moved
differently when it was just the two of them. Richie was chewing on the inside
of his mouth, trying to eat the words that were crawling up this throat,
clawing their way across his tongue before leaping out of his mouth “I LOVE
YOU”. Eddie answered with a kiss. Richie was overwhelmed by the sensation of
Eddie’s lips on his, no one could overwhelm Richie like Eddie. And that was
that. After that night they were RichieandEddie, EddieandRichie for the next
two years.
 
                                     1994
Ice cold water soaked Richie to the bone. “Get the fuck up.” Eddie said, his
voice colder than the water he just poured on his boyfriend. Richie was in the
bathtub passed out. Again. “You need to grow up, Richie. You said you quit. How
can you do this to us.” The coldness leaking out of Eddie’s voice as it broke.
He tried to keep him clean but how could he when every dealer was a friend.
“Shut the fuck up. You’re leaving me anyways. You’re going to your big fancy
school and I’m going to be left here. If you loved me you would have stayed and
why should I stop? Because you want me to? Ha. We all want things Eds, sorry
you don’t get your way for once.” Richie opened his blood shot eyes. Eddie
could smell the rancid sweat on his skin. He smelled like drugs. He smelled
like alcohol. He smelled like his parents. Blood that had dried under his nose
from his nosebleed was moistened by the water and started to drip down his
face, slowly.
The hurt showed on Eddie’s face immediately. He put his head down, willing the
tears back so Richie wouldn’t see him cry, again. He wouldn’t let Richie make
him cry again. “I’m sorry Richie. I’m done.” He turned and walked out of the
Tozier house. He had to finish packing for college. Richie was going to let
himself be destroyed by Derry but Eddie was going to escape.
 
                                     1993
Eddie Kaspbrak was not allowed to go to prom. His mother Sonia did not want
people to see her son as a “queer with a lowlife boyfriend”. Eddie was
devastated that he was not going to get to attend his senior prom with the love
of his life. He did convince his Sonia to allow him to go to Bill’s house and
spend the night though after a long guilt trip. So, Eddie made his way over to
Richie’s instead. Eddie was going to spend prom with his boyfriend even if it
couldn’t be at prom.
Eddie opened the door to the Tozier house and was welcomed to an unexpected
sight. The messy, dark living room was replaced with a clean candle lit room.
Richie was standing in the center of the room in a suit holding a bouquet of
plastic roses. Cheesy 80’s music was playing in the background and Eddie could
see past the living room into the kitchen where finger foods and a mixing bowl
full of what Eddie could only assume was punch were waiting. “I know your
allergies and asthma and stuff so I didn’t want to get you real flowers. I hope
these count.” He pulled one from the bouquet and carefully pinned it to Eddie’s
tee-shirt. Eddie felt his eyes welling up with tears and wrapped Richie in a
tight hug. “May I have this dance?” Richie murmured into his ear. They danced
to “Take on me” by Ah-Ha. Richie brought Eddie a drink and said “I spiked the
punch for us, gotta give my Eds the real prom experience.” He winked.
Eddie’s eyes flashed with determination as he chugged the drink all at once. He
looked up to meet Richie’s eyes, a sly smile on his face. “You know what else
is part of the prom experience?” Richie’s eyes widened, they had done some
things but he never wanted to pressure Eddie and honestly, Eddie had more
experience with boys than Richie. Eddie would be Richie’s first. Richie
wouldn’t be Eddie’s first. Eddie took Richie’s hand and began to lead him to
his room.
“Nope.” Richie said scooping Eddie up bridal style and carried him to the bed.
Richie laid Eddie down and crawled over him, kissing and licking his way up to
Eddie’s mouth. As Richie’s long tongue made its way across Eddie’s neck, Eddie
whined in enjoyment.
“Please Richie” He moaned. Richie thought he might just cum in his pants
listening to Eddie moan. Richie began to tease and bite Eddie’s neck. He knew
he should be nervous but how could he be nervous when it was Eddie. This was
his Eddie. Eddie was safe. Things were right as long as Eddie was here.
Eddie quickly tired of Richie’s teasing and flipped the boy over to sit on top
of the taller boy’s lap. Richie let him and hissed his appreciation for the
smaller boy, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Eddie.” Richie was blown away that
this actual tiny god was perched on top of his lap like he fucking owned it,
and as far as Richie was concerned, he did. Eddie pushed his small hands on
Richie’s chest as he rolled his hips into his lap. Grinning as he saw Richie
start breathing heavily. Eddie scooted backwards, carefully undoing Richie’s
suit pants pulling them down his long legs.
He couldn’t help but bark out a laugh “Seriously Rich? No underwear?”
Richie winked saying “Sorry Eds, I was with your mom before you came ov-“ he
was cut off as Eddie sucked his hard on deep into his throat “Jesus fuck Eddie,
you’re almost as good as your mom.” He panted.
Eddie took his mouth off of Richie to say “I swear Tozier if you say one more
word about my mom you’ll be jerking off alone tonight.” Richie made the zipping
his lips and throwing away the key motion as Eddie narrowed his eyes and went
back to work. Eddie was a very clean boy who gave very sloppy blowjobs. Richie
was gripping the bed sheets like they would keep him from floating away to
heaven. He was already in heaven. No one could overwhelm Richie like Eddie.
Eddie reached over across the twin bed to his bed stand to grab lube from the
bedside drawer. He poured some into his hands and used one hand to rub Richie
and one hand to finger himself. He couldn’t wait though. Before long Eddie
lowered himself down onto Richie. Richie placed his hands on Eddie’s soft hips
and tried to help hold the boy up so he wouldn’t go too fast but Eddie was
having none of that. Richie pulled Eddie down against his chest, wrapping his
long arms around him.
“I love you Eddie Kaspbrak. I always will.” He whispered into his neck. Richie
was overwhelmed by Eddie and Eddie by Richie. Richie couldn’t hold back any
longer. He came inside of Eddie, hard. “Your turn Eds” he said smiling lazily,
removing the small boy from him and flipping over, shaking his ass. Eddie was a
little shocked but took it into stride. He leaned forward licking Richie’s
entrance, pulling a long whine from Richie. He lubed one finger, then two, once
Richie was pushing back on three happily is when Eddie knew Richie was ready to
take him. He pushed into Richie, slowly, gently. He leaned over the taller boy,
planning to kiss his neck but not being able to reach so he had to deign to lay
kisses across his shoulder blades. Eddie’s small hands made gentle circles on
Richie’s hips, moving with controlled thrusts as to not hurt Richie.
“You’re so tight Rich” Eddie panted out. Richie wanted to respond with a smart
comment but he was too distracted by Eddie speeding up, his hands tightening on
Richie’s hips. Richie was already fully hard again and feeling close. “I’m so
close ‘Chee.” Eddie came hard into Richie and the nickname paired with Eddie
filling Richie completely caused Richie to finish, spilling hot cum on the bed
spread. Richie couldn’t hold himself up anymore and fell to the bed, pulling
Eddie with him. Eddie snuggled into Richie, both ignoring the sticky wet spot,
“this was the best prom ever” he sighed.
 
                                     1998
“Hi everyone, I’m Richie Tozier and –“
“No nicknames Mr. Tozier.”
Richie rolled his eyes trying to bite back a smart response, “Fine. Hi
everyone. I’m Richard Tozier and I am a recovering heroin addict.” He sat back
down, slumping into his chair. Somehow, he had managed to get through the
brutal withdrawal symptoms but the shame was almost as bad. Suffocating. Just
ninety days. He promised himself just ninety days in a row he’d attend this
awful group. He just needed to feel like he was doing something, making
progress.
Later that night Richie was sitting at a bar. He probably shouldn’t be in bars
currently; he was trying not to drink because whenever he drank he wanted more
than just alcohol. He had always been a risk taker though. He waved the
bartender over “Hey man, can I get a water on the rocks?” He asked with a wry
grin. The bartender laughed and brought a glass over. Richie pulled out a bent
notebook from his backpocket and a chewed-up pen.
                 Hey Cutie, I’ve been thinking about you a lot
He groaned and ripped the page out, crinkling it up.
 How’s it going Special K? Your mom’s bed is great but I’d rather be in yours
Trashed
                               Eds, I still lo-
Trashed
                    Eddie Spaghetti I miss your meat balls
He put his head down on the table. He wanted to get this right. He didn’t even
know what to write, how could it make things right between him and Eddie when
he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror; how could he expect Eddie to be
able to look at him? He was running out of pages in his notebook and the trash
bin next to him was running out of space as balls of crinkled paper stacked and
stacked and stacked.
     I’m clean, Eddie. I wish I could have done this when I still had you.
He sighed and tore the page out, about to crinkle it up and add it to the pile
but paused, scribbling his number on it before he folded it up, putting it in
his pocket. He walked back to his crummy one-bedroom apartment and started
putting together a mixtape. Once the mixtape was finished he laced up his shoes
and started jogging a path to the Kaspbark house, no matter where he was he
could always find his way back there. He hoped Eddie would come home from
college soon and read it. At the same time, he didn’t want to ruin Eddie again.
He ruined everything. Richie put the note and CD in the mailbox and ran before
he could change his mind.
 
                                     2003
Eddie was back in Derry. He hadn’t been back since 1994 when he left his mother
behind. Since he left Richie behind. The name still made him ache, but it was
an ache that time had softened. It was funny, he hadn’t thought of Richie in
years, but once he was back on Derry’s damned soil, he couldn’t stop. Sonia’s
funeral took place today and Eddie was overcome with feelings. This was the
woman who had drugged him, who locked him inside, who bred fear into him, who
ruined his childhood with sicknesses that never existed. This was his mommy who
tucked him into bed, made him warm dinner, who watched movies with him, who
wrapped him up and took care of him the few times he actually was sick. He
hated her. He loved her. He regretted not saying goodbye. He didn’t believe her
when she said she was sick, that she was dying. Why would he? She said it all
the time. This time it was true though. She wasn’t around to say I told you so.
He met a girl at the funeral, she said she was a friend of his mother. She and
his mother went to church together. Her name was Myra. She was a little chubby
but she had soft kind eyes and a gentle voice. “Let’s get you some food and
rest. You look so tired, this must be so hard on you. Let me make you feel
better.” And Eddie let her. He woke up the next morning in his childhood home
on the couch, through hazy, half-awake eyes he saw Myra in the kitchen cooking
breakfast. He could have sworn she was Sonia before he drifted back to sleep.
 
                                     2004
Myra and Eddie were finally going to go clean out his childhood home. Sonia had
died a year ago but Eddie hadn’t wanted to spend a minute longer than necessary
in Derry and Myra was preoccupied with the impromptu decision, made mostly by
her, to move to New York with Eddie. Eddie needed a woman to take care of him,
according to Myra, and it was all too easy for Eddie, or Edward as Myra
insisted upon calling him, to allow her to. It felt comfortable even if he
wasn’t filled with elation to see her. If he was honest, he was filled with
dread more often than not but he was not honest. Thankfully, Myra was a
religious woman who wanted to wait until they were married to sleep together
but the shiny engagement ring adorning her finger was a constant reminder to
Eddie that day was coming. He probably should have told his fiancée he was gay
but she did more talking than listening. It was easy to be in a relationship
with Myra. He wasn’t even sure if him being gay would matter to her, it’s not
as if she had shown any interest in anything physical with him. Sometimes, he
felt like more of a trinket just like that shiny diamond on her finger, than a
partner.
They drove up to the house Eddie feeling a deep since of dread uncurling itself
in his stomach. Myra was prattling about whether they should do baby pink and
grey or baby blue and grey for their wedding colors. He listened to her with as
much attention as someone listening to TV static. Somehow Sonia managed to
become somewhere between a hoarder and an organizational addict in the years
before her death. Everything was alphabetical, stacked in neat shelves along
the walls but there was so much stuff. There were boxes upon boxes and shelves
upon shelves and drawer upon drawers and cabinets upon cabinets. Papers and
trinkets and clothing and pharmacy bags and folders and board games filled
every corner and wall of the house making the small house feel almost as
claustrophobia as it did before the woman who lived in it died. Eddie sighed
knowing that this was going to be at least a week’s work. Myra brought Eddie
his inhaler “Here baby, this dust is bad for your asthma.” Eddie had tried to
explain to Myra he didn’t really have asthma but he’d given up a long time ago.
It was easier that way. Myra was a force to be reckoned with, throwing away
everything. She barely looked at the objects in her hands before tossing them
in the trash. Myra insisted it all had to go because she and Eddie were
starting a new life together and they didn’t need anything from before they
were together. Interestingly enough this policy didn’t seem to apply to her own
possessions but always would certainly apply to his.
Once the sun set they got takeout and Myra made her way upstairs to take a
shower. Out of the corner of his eyes, a garish blue drew his eye, the fabric
dangling out of the side of the bulging trash bag like a flag on a barren
wasteland. It was a button up Hawaiian shirt. Memories that had been erased by
IT’s influence when he left Derry came crashing back as he ripped the shirt out
of the bag, not caring that its contents went spilling across the floor. The
short man dropped to his knees, he wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but he was
furious. He began ripping through the bag with his hands, hot tears just
starting to spill from his eyes. He didn’t even care that he was digging
through the trash. He found school notebooks. He found sweatpants from a man
much taller than his 5 foot 6 frame. He found a CD case. He opened the CD and
like a mad man scrambled to find a player. He knew his mom had one somewhere in
this mess. He swept his hands across shelves pushing their contents to the
floor in his desperate pursuit. It had to be somewhere. It had to be. His eyes
wild, he spun around the room until he eyed the old dusty player on the bottom
shelf of one off the cabinets. He cradled it like it was the holy grail as he
delicately placed the CD in. “Africa” by Toto started ringing out and Eddie
couldn’t bear it anymore, the dam wasn’t just broken, it was demolished. He
read the short letter from the inside of the CD case over and over and over and
over and over and over. His tears smearing the already messy handwriting. He
heard the shower water turning off from upstairs and he bolted, grabbing the CD
as he went. He pulled out his cell phone. Myra insisted he have one just so
she’d have an easier time reaching him when he was working long shifts at the
hospital. With shaky fingers he typed the numbers on the note
                                     Ring
                                     Ring
                                     Ring
“Hello?” a deep voice that had been ravaged by cigarettes answered but the
voice sounded sweeter than honey to Eddie.
“Can you meet me at the Quarry? Please?” Eddie choked out before hanging out.
He was wheezing, wishing he had his inhaler then cursing himself because he
knew he didn’t need it. Eddie drove to the quarry that he hadn’t been to since
he was barely eighteen. Most of his favorite childhood memories took place
here. He remembered the faces of his friends Stan, Bill, Mike, Beverly, Ben,
and….and… Richie. Their faces became less and less foggy as he sat on the edge
of the cliff that they used to jump from. A pit formed in his stomach, how
could he have forgotten? What kind of a person forgets every single one of his
childhood friends? The pit in his stomach grew teeth and gnawed on his insides
as he remembered more and more. As he remembered playing chicken in the water
below. As he remembered the barrens. As he remembered Richie. He kept coming
back to Richie. Richie. Richie. Richie.
“Eds?” a tentative voice rang out. Richie was kicking himself for saying that
instead of just Eddie. He knew Eddie hated nicknames. Even after all these
years, watching Eddie’s shoulders shake with tears tore Richie apart. He
quickly eliminated the distance between them and sat next to the crying man.
Not knowing what to do, he put an arm around him. Eddie immediately wrapped
himself around Richie, breathing in his familiar scent of cigarettes, soap, and
something that could only be described as Richie. “W-w-why can’t I remember
them, Rich?”
“I don’t know Eds. It happens when people leave Derry, they forget. The others
did too.” He said evenly, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice,
pretending he hadn’t spent nights upon nights sobbing, wondering why they had
all forgotten him after leaving him behind. He hadn’t really considered how it
would feel to be the one missing those memories and seeing Eddie have to
realize that he had essentially had his whole childhood erased cut deeply.
“Don’t call me Eds”
“Sorry.” The pair sat in silence after that, what do you say to someone after
decade? Richie had imagined seeing Eddie again a million times. Sometimes he
thought he’d be mad at Eddie for abandoning him in his darkest time, for not
saving him, for forgetting him. He knew it wasn’t fair to feel that way but he
did for a long time. He’d imagined scooping the smaller boy up and covering him
with kisses and driving off into the sunset. He’d imagined Eddie telling him he
was still a loser, that he was still just a fuckup. Of all the things he’d
imagined for some reason he’d never really imagined just sitting with him, like
nothing happened.
“I got your mixtape.”
Richie’s head immediately swiveled to face him. “The one I put in your mailbox
in ’98?” He tilted his head, trying not to be angry that it had taken six years
to actually call him. He wasn’t doing a very good job with the whole not being
angry thing and it leaked into his voice.
If Eddie heard the anger, he ignored it. “Yeah. I was cleaning out my mom’s
house today. She died last year and all but it was just a lot? Are you… is the…
is the note still true?” Eddie looked down, putting his hands in his lap,
trying to not look into Richie’s eyes because if he saw lies behind those coke
bottle lenses he still wore after all this time, he’d shatter.
“Yep. Haven’t had so much of a drink in six years.” Nerves finally got to him
and he reached into his back pocket to grab a cigarette and lighter. “Funny, I
beat heroin but could never get rid of these, what did you call them?”
“Cancer sticks.” Eddie laughed crinkling his nose at the smell of the smoke.
Richie laughed with him trying to believe this whole thing was actually
happening.
“Richie?”
“Hm?”
He leaned over gently running his hands through Richie’s dark hair before
tilting his head, to the left Richie would only kiss to the left much to
Eddie’s dismay when they were younger leading to countless bumping of noses and
knocking off his glasses, and kissing him. There were no fireworks like people
say, instead there were embers left in a fireplace from the night before. Warm,
comfortable, refusing to go out. Richie wanted to say something, wanted to tell
Eddie about his job at the record store, wanted to ask about Eddie’s life,
wanted to listen to the boy’s laugh but the kiss melted all of that. No one
could overwhelm Richie like Eddie.
End Notes
     I'm sorry. Please be gentle on me.
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