eddie "fuck you, bro" kaspbrak. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
respirations) wrote2025-12-01 12:00 am
respirations) wrote2025-12-01 12:00 am
― open post.
voice strength: ★★★★★ shipping: i'm reddie trash but i'm also all about that platonic love with the other losers preferences: gen, smut, shippy, angst, au, cross-canon, slice of life. notes: for some fun starting points: some random assortment of memes and aus for days; feel free to go the other worldly route; also throw pics or random sentences at me and a kink generator because why not. hit me up for starters if you'd like. there's no crying in baseball but there is crying in my rp but let's have fun, ok. |
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it takes a couple of minutes, but once eddie's got him sitting down it's easier to calm himself down. he removes his glasses with one shaky hand so he can rub his face with the other, his eyes red and swollen.
"None of this is our fucking fault."
he's standing with eddie on the kissing bridge. it's the day after bev moved out of derry - the first of them to leave - and nothing feels right anymore. ]
But we were -- [ he can't even bring himself to say it out loud, for fucks' sake. swallowing, he stares up at eddie through blurry eyes, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. ]
-- how could I leave you behind?
[ that's the last thing he can remember of their youth, of the day he left derry and followed in the footsteps of the others, heading towards his new life. he left, and eddie stayed. ]
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there's always later, much later when he's alone and away from everyone. ❫
What? In love? ❪ it probably comes out a little harsh but he's been flickering through emotions like changing the channels on a television. besides— there's no use beating around the bush. ❫ Some six or seven years too.
❪ which might as well be forever when you're that young. still, the question does give eddie a moment of pause and he finally lets his hands drop and steps back, crossing his arms. ❫
It could have been around the time my mom was getting sick, like, really sick. Not just in her head.
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hearing eddie say it makes it more real, somehow, and that just makes it hurt more. despite that, richie manages to ebb the flow of his tears, and after a couple more breathy sobs he forces himself to straighten up and put his glasses back on. ]
Seven years, [ he echoes, shaking his head in disbelief. seven years of being attached at the hip, of feeling his heart burn whenever they're together, gone. just like that.
and now - now eddie is married.
that thought makes eddie want to puke, so he shoves it away and stares at the middle distance between them, doing his best to focus on what eddie's saying. ]
I - remember, [ he says slowly, frowning, as the images trickle into his brain. ] The hospital, the tests. But why would I leave you if -
[ it's the spring of their senior year, and he's in the hospital's waiting room, staring at the ancient tv set as he waits for eddie to finish visiting his mom. a comedy special is airing; just before it cuts to commercial, the host announces some contest the network is running, a chance for upcoming comedians to appear on the program.
the nausea comes back, so strong this time that richie has to cup a hand over his mouth. ]
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he's been tired, exhausted beyond words lately. cancer, the doctor had said. first his dad, now his mom and he doubts she'll ever be emotionally stable enough to handle the more complicated workings that comes with the diagnoses. while she lays in the hospital, richie stays over and eddie finally breaks down sobbing one night while curled against richie's chest.
but what happened then? why did rich leave and he―
the doctors think his mother might have a better chance in a bigger city with more specialized care. boston, they suggest, and the cancer center there. it's not something he wants but, despite everything, he can't let his mom go all alone. richie wants to come along too but it would fuck up the deadline for the comedy show contest. they worked their asses off putting the tape together and for what? rich to throw his big chance away because of him?
and, so, he mails it off one night without a word to rich. he's mad but eddie brushes it off, saying, promising― ❫
Because I was going to catch up later. Come be with you after I got everything settled with mom.
❪ they just had no clue that the moment they stepped foot outside of derry things were already turning against them. they had already started forgetting each other. ❫
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he holds eddie close, closer than ever, and just listens to him cry, not knowing how to make it better. there are no jokes that can fix this, no words to dispel the fear filling their hearts. it's the first time richie understands what real fear is - not clowns and mummies and wolfmen, but the hidden diseases that destroy everything before you know they exist.
he looks up and sees eddie crying and it takes less than two seconds for him to surge forward and take the smaller man in his arms. it's instinct more than anything; every fibre of his being burns to take care of him, to make sure nothing ever hurts him again. ]
I'm sorry, [ he says again, his voice tight. he squeezes eddie closer, not wanting to let go. ] I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry --
[ "I'm sorry," he says, and he knows eddie knows what it means before he even reads the letter clutched in richie's hand. eddie's mom just got approved for treatment, and richie had come over to help pack, but he checked his mail first and there it was: his ticket out of derry, the thing they'd dreamed of since they were little kids who didn't know any better. ]
I hate this fucking town, [ he bites out, burying his face in eddie's hair. ]
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hits him with even more memories that he can't remember forgetting.
it's their last night together before richie leaves. they lay curled together and eddie kisses every inch of skin he finds, hands roaming and trying not to cry again. he wants to put every bit of richie to memory while they're apart. 'but it's okay,' he thinks. 'we'll be together again in a month or two.' ❫
Stop apologizing. ❪ he says with a shake of his head. ❫ I don't you that it wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault.
❪ richie leaves first and he leaves a little over a week later for boston with his mom. they talk on the phone every day and night. eddie can't get over how much he misses rich and how much his absence is truly bothering him. they'd never been apart before then, after all. for seven years they had been stuck together.
then, one day, eddie picks up the phone and he realizes he doesn't know why. although he thinks there is a number he should know there isn't anything that comes to mind. ❫
Y-yeah, I do too. You and the others... you're the only good things about this place.
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eddie is right, of course. neither of them should be apologizing. they hadn't done anything wrong; it was this town's fault - It's fault. all of it.
a deep, shuddering sigh escapes him, and beneath the anger and exhaustion he almost feels relieved. so many things he didn't understand make sense to him now: why he couldn't remember most of his childhood, why there were bits and pieces of his life that never felt right, why he never had a good answer when interviewers asked about his first kiss.
their last kiss is a little like their first. richie is nervous, but it's not because of eddie. it's because, despite all their talks about the future and what they'll do together, the world is still big and scary and he really doesn't want to face it alone.
but he gets into his crappy old car, waves out the window, and leaves his life behind. he does it because doing anything else would betray all the things eddie has done to make this happen.
swallowing, he loosens his hold on eddie and pulls back, not quite sure what to say now. he feels awkward, and - despite the gravity of the situation they're in - this feels so much more important than killing that stupid murder clown. ]
I don't want to forget you again, [ he says at last, his eyebrows knitting together in an expression that's part hopelessness and part determination.
they talk as often as they can, and even that's not enough. richie always tells eddie how good things are, how great he's doing, how much he wishes eddie could come see the show.
he starts to make a name for himself, and before he realizes it he stops getting those calls. at first it feels wrong, like a bad case of deja vu, but eventually it fades into the background just like the rest of derry has. it's all too easy to dive into his work and forget that he ever wanted someone special to sit in that front-row seat. ]
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fucking hell— how different would things have been if everything had worked out? if he had gotten to california and they had gotten to live the life they had talked about since they were thirteen? it kicks up another bout of emotions, swirling between sadness and an intense anger.
angry because this town, that fucking sewer clown, took everything from them. he wouldn't be in some hapless marriage to a woman worse than his mother. a mother he told off, stood up to once for his friends and promised to be more than what she had deemed was right for him. why would he fall back into that if not because of his lost memories? because he lost richie?
it's summer before their junior year and they're in eddie's backyard talking about the future as they sometimes do. it never goes very far beyond wanting to get out derry, of course but eddie tests the water by mentioning getting married one day in a teasing tone. it wouldn't be anything official, of course but that's what people in love did... right? and he knows he loves richie.
richie, ever the joker, makes a big scene and slaps a snap bracelet on his wrist. eddie balks but richie never did stop smiling. ❫
Fucking hell. ❪ he finally says with a heavy breath, pushing his forehead against richie's shoulder again. resting against the cradle of his neck. ❫ I'm not going to forget you again. I'm not.
❪ he's shaking but he ignores it and keeps a tight hold on richie's shirt. ❫
We can't leave. We have to stay and kill that thing.
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it's just been so long, and eddie's got myra now, and even if richie still loves him so much it makes him ache who's to say eddie feels the same?
but there he is, hanging on, and that brings a whole new wave of emotions surging through richie's chest.
that same day that eddie mentions getting married, richie goes out for a late-night walk. there are so many thoughts buzzing around his brain that it's impossible to sleep.
married. to eddie. he hadn't really thought about it before, but... why not? why couldn't they lead normal lives, just like everyone else? move to california and live by the ocean, get a dog and kiss each other every morning and night and forget all about this town?
why couldn't they be happy together?
eddie pushes his face against richie's shoulder and that's all it takes for richie to come right back to him, to loop both arms around eddie's slim form and hug him tighter than ever. he can feel the way eds shakes but it only makes him more determined to keep him close. to keep him safe. ]
We'll kill it. [ it's a promise he makes in a whisper, the words heavy with years and years of forgotten moments that now live in his mind. ] We'll kill that fucking bastard and we'll go to California like we always said we would.
[ he's been in New York for two weeks and he's just gotten his first paycheck from the network. despite the fact that he's been subsisting on nothing but water and instant noodles, the first place richie goes is the pawn shop down the street from his shitty apartment.
it's not fancy. it's not expensive. but, somehow, he knows eddie will like the plain platinum band richie picks out for him.
it sits in his bedside table for the next twenty-seven years,even after he forgets why he bought it in the first place. ]
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he has always felt like something was missing from his life and now he gets it. now he understands.
the whispered promise causes him to go still for a moment. killing that thing was never not option, not anymore, the others made it that clear. everything they had been through since coming back to this town made it clear but he hadn't given much thought to what came after everything finished.
and not richie is saying that they'll leave together and, despite the years lost, it's the only fucking thing that has made sense in this place. ❫
Together. ❪ he says finally with a heavy sigh, leaning back and tilting his head up just enough to see richie's face. ❫ You gotta promise me, Rich.
❪ they're hidden under the thin sheets on richie's bed, breathing hard and hands roaming as they explore one another. it's not often they get chances like this, to be so intimate with one another, so they can making the most of it while rich's folks weren't home for the evening. eddie is sure he is blushing from his head to his toes but ignores it in favor of holding richie's face in his hand, voice breathless as he speaks: "you gotta promise me, rich." he says and watching as the other raises a brow. "promise me—" ❫
Promise me we'll stay together.
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but not any fucking more. richie is sick and fucking tired of living in the spotlight while praying his darkness doesn't come floating to the surface. it's time they all beat the shit out of the old stuff and wiped the slate clean - for good.
he listens to eddie and the despair fades from his face, leaving behind only a fiery determination. this is worth fighting for. eddie, the life they promised each other, all of it.
it's not just about making out when he's with eddie. when they're together like this richie just feels right, as though whatever piece of him was missing has found its way home. eddie is flushed from head to toe and richie loves him, he loves him so fucking much, that when eddie grasps his face and asks for that promise it comes spilling out of richie's lips with zero hesitation.
"I promise," he says, and then, because he can't keep it in any longer -- ]
I love you, Eds.
[ and then, just like all those years ago, he leans forward and presses their lips together. ]
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he feels like a teen again and the first time richie told him. well, not quite because he's not crying like then. not yet anyway because he can feel the burn of tears cloud his vision yet it all melts away once their lips press together.
and, yeah, he's shocked for all a half second like their first kiss but before he can second guess himself, eddie pushes forward to return and deepen the kiss. ❫
Asshole. You can't just drop shit on me like that. ❪ he says despite every kiss that he presses to richie's lips as he rambles. ❫ Do you have any idea how tired I am of crying?
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it makes his own heart pound, but when eddie kisses him the second time he can't help letting out a happy sort of sobbing sound, his arms squeezing the other man tighter against him.
when they part he chuckles weakly, completely blown away by the magnitude of what he's feeling. a love like this never seemed possible to the version of him that existed only moments ago.
as eddie kisses him over and over again he keeps laughing, soft and breathless, his eyes crinkling up at the corners from the smile he can't erase. ] What, that's all it takes now? [ sniffling, he gives eddie's side a playful tickle. ] Guess I'll have to say it so often you get desensitized, then.
[ it's a promise he more than intends to keep. ]
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but— but eddie tries to ignore those worries for now and focus on rich instead. focus on the happy sound he makes or the way his eyes still crinkle up in the corners when he smiles just like when he had been younger.
honestly, it's painful for him to smile thanks to bowers and his fucking knife but eddie just can't help it. he doesn't think he'll ever stop, at least not right now. ❫
Shut up, idiot. I've been waiting twenty years to hear you say it again and I didn't even know it. ❪ despite his word, he is smiling and sniffles lightly. ❫ I love you, Rich.
❪ he presses another kiss to his lips before pulling back and casting a glance around them. ❫ I love you but I have to get out of this fucking bathroom.
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seeing eddie smile only strengthens his resolve, even though it's clear he's still hurting from where that asshole bowers stabbed him. richie reaches up to press his palm against eddie's injured face, carefully avoiding the bandaged area as his thumb sweeps along the other's cheekbone. ]
I can't believe you, [ he says, that laugh still in his voice. when he hears eddie repeat those three words back at him, though, he has to bite his lip to keep his own tears from spilling over once again.
a million kisses wouldn't be enough, he thinks, as their lips touch. he wants to chase that feeling as eddie pulls away but the other man is right - it's too small in here, and the scent of blood and disinfectant is starting to be a little overwhelming. richie doesn't want to let go of him entirely, though, so as he steps away from eddie he lets his hand slip down the other's arm and grasp his hand, giving it a squeeze. ]
Let's go, [ he says, even though he doesn't know where they can go, where they'll finally be safe. ]
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after all, they have no idea what will happen next. it's not bowers is their only problem and, at least, he's human. pennywise is something literally from beyond this world. something darker, more dangerous and although they fought it once before— who's to say things will go like they did before?
shaking his head, eddie grips tighter at richie's hand and leads them out of the bathroom and back into the room itself. he doesn't want to think about that. doesn't want to think about what might happen to tomorrow or even beyond this room. all that matters right now is rich. ❫
I love you, ❪ he says again, softer once they're back in rich's room. his free hand coming to trace his jawline because, god, twenty years have changed them yet everything still feels the same as that day in his driveway when rich left. it feels like there is still a lot left ahead of them to live out together.
so perhaps that's why he doesn't hold back when he presses forward, chest to chest, pressing their lips together. a touch needier, partly wanting to forget forget everything outside of them but mostly wanting to make up for lost time. ❫
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think about what to do next. they still have that fucking clown to kill but this - this feels right, feels so much more important than listening to mike's crazy theories and trying not to get killed by bowers.
once they're back in his room, it's easy to forget about all that stuff. it's easy to wrap his arms around eddie and return those kisses, to whisper his own I love you as his heart tries not to burst.
and when eddie presses against him like that -- ]
God, Eds --
[ whatever richie was going to say is cut off by that kiss. it feels so much like the way they kissed as teenagers, when their time together was limited only by the hours in the day and the patience of their parents. richie lifts a hand to comb through eddie's hair, still careful, fingertips brushing against the smooth strands with the sort of affection that only comes from being deeply, utterly in love. ]
You gotta be careful, [ he murmurs when their lips finally part. ] You're hurt.
[ it's not the same kind of admonishing eddie would hear from his mom or wife, though. it's a gentle reminder, not a warning; something for him to keep in mind, not something to keep him bound to a person or a place. ]
oops hit enter too soon
just being with him and having those arms wrapped around him helped him to forget about the bad and remember the good. remember everything good he had with the other losers and most importantly: everything good he had with richie.
his heart and mind are both struggling to keep up with the onslaught of emotions returning but if one thing made sense, it was richie. that's why it isn't a hard decision to kiss him like this, to nudge them closer toward the bed although there is a brief pause at the other's murmured words that just leave eddie smiling fondly. ❫
I'll be okay, Richie. ❪ he says leaning in and nipping at his bottom lip. ❫ I'll tell you if I need to stop.
❪ he smiles again because that's always been richie's way. those soft, gentle reminders. eddie never had to worry about if rich saw him as his own person because it was something he always knew. ❫
ugh relatable
and, besides, he's never been able to say no to eddie.
there's still concern in his expression, but richie's appeased for the time being. he knows that eddie knows his own limits well enough to tell him when he needs a break, and - unlike myra and mrs. kaspbrak - that's always been enough. ]
Yeah, yeah, okay. [ he concedes, his expression softening as he kisses eddie again. he follows the other's movement towards the bed, eventually pulling gently, as if asking through touch for eddie to lay down next to him.
it's the first time they've made out like this, alone in richie's room, and he feels like his heart's about to pound out of his chest. he loves eddie so fucking much it scares him; he doesn't want to push too hard, go too fast, do something to fuck things up.
but eddie is always willing to go along with it. for some reason that richie doesn't think he'll ever understand, eddie is always right there with him. ]
I love you so much, Eddie, [ he says, unable to stop repeating it. ]
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he still feels like that kid standing at the end of his driveway watching rich drive away, partly sad for what they'll (what they had) missed together but hopeful for something better. they can't leave, no matter how much his body screams because he can't risk losing this again. he can't risk losing stan, the others and especially rich again.
the flash of concern on the other's expression earns him a small smile and he chuckles as richie leans in to kiss him again. he readily returns it, hands splaying out across his waist and wasting no time following the gentle pulls to the bed.
they lay together in bed a lot, he notices. not that eddie minds. they kiss, hold hands and spend a lot of time exploring one another which eddie can never get enough of. he loves the feel of richie's body under his hands and loves the reactions he can get out of rich when his hands dip over sensitive spots.
it's such an incredible feeling. he's never felt this way about someone and he doubts he ever will again. richie is literally everything, he finds and maybe that's unfair but he can't bring himself to even humor the idea of what if they weren't together one day. he's so in love that it makes him dizzy but—
but he's more than willing to fall down as long as rich is there. ❫
I love you, I love you so much. ❪ he repeats himself as if trying to make up for ever missed opportunity over these last two decades. ❫ I'm never going to stop loving you.
sorry for being such a slowpoke T_T ♥
this man is the most precious thing in his life. he always has been, even when richie didn't have any idea who he was. there's no way in hell he's ever going to let go of him again. ]
Eds, [ he murmurs, not really sure what he wants to say but feeling the need to say something nonetheless, ] you're so - I can't believe - I missed you so fucking much, Eddie, I love you so much. So fucking much -
[ ah, shit, there are the tears.
he sniffles and tries to discreetly wipe at his eyes, but his heart's about to burst. how many times did eddie need him over the years? how many times could richie have helped him if he'd been able to remember what they went through? as good as it feels to be back together, there's still so much pain in his heart that he can't ignore no matter how hard he tries. ]
Fucking -- [ he closes his eyes, presses his forehead to eddie's, bites his lip. ] Just - fuck, Eds, I don't wanna let go of you. I don't want to lose you again.
you are perfectly fine ♥♥♥♥
he does the only thing that feels right in the moment and leans in to kiss away at the tears that has appeared on richie's face despite the other man's attempt at discreetly wiping them away. it bring in more memories, more instances of their time together and that love and god— eddie wants to cry too. ❫
You already promised me that we'll stay together. ❪ he murmurs, hands coming up to hold his face and lips continuing to press small kisses. ❫ I'm gonna make sure you keep you're promise, okay?
❪ it's said with a small smile as their foreheads are pressed together and he looks up, seemingly searching richie's eyes. ❫ I won't let anything take you away from me again. I'm not just going to stand by and watch you drive away again either.
skjdhfskdhf ♥
This feels so right. They've done this countless times - almost daily, when they were in high school - and the quiet comfort it evokes in Richie's heart is just as potent now as it was all those years ago. After a few moments his tears subside, and for a little while he just lies there with Eddie, still in disbelief that not only did he forget all about this, but that he somehow managed to get it back, too.
Eventually, though, that nagging thought from earlier finds its way to his lips, despite his best attempts to hold it back. ]
Eddie, [ he murmurs, suddenly nervous, ] what about... what about your -
[ even saying the word is difficult: ]
- your wife?
♥♥
but, as it turns out, that's a little harder said than done. since they began this literal trip of memories, he hadn't given much thought to myra back home but now it's hard not to look at his wedding band. ❫
The longer I'm here the more I remember about my mom and the more I'm reminded about the relationship I have with Myra. I forgot and got myself involved with someone that does the same exact shit that she used to do. ❪ he chuckles but it's a sad sound. ❫ And I realize that the sort of shit that I feel with you, felt when we were together, I can't remember ever feeling anywhere close to that with her.