respirations | ― open post.

― open post.

EDDIE KASPBRAK it: chapter 2

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.

picture prompts • quote prompts • music prompts • etc

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

❪ it's certainly more complicated than eddie cares for because, at the end of the day, he trusts richie. trusts him with his life and tonight hasn't changed that but he can't deny that he wasn't scared because it was a side of him that he hadn't ever seen before come out like that.

still, it also hurts when rich pushes his hands away and he sort of just awkwardly stands there looking at the empty space where richie had been just now. he breathes in deeply through his nose, blinking once and then following to where the other has moved to toe off his shoes. ❫

You're not broken.

❪ if he has to make one thing clear then let it be that much. he has to bring wrist up, wiping blood on the back of his sleeve as he approaches although he lingers to give him space there is an awkwardness to his stance. it's clear he wants to reach out, draw him close but he also knows the need for time alone. ❫

I got hurt, you reacted. Shit happens and we'll figure this out, okay?

[Richie rounds the corner a small few steps away to the nearest bathroom in their place to the tune of the reassurance that he wasn't broken. Richie knew better than to assume he'd ever be anything but.

It's not like him, even at his angriest to be so violent. He's more likely to collapse in on himself and always had been until tonight. A part of him, however small, was still that kid in Derry, rocking back and forth on the civic bench trying not to break down because of lousy truths he couldn't control.

This was just another truth, but when he does come back he closes the distance with Eddie, some soft towelettes in hand, and gently presses it to the side of his nose. Grimacing when he has to apply pressure to stop some of the bleeding.]

I don't know that there's anything to figure out. We all came out of Derry changed. Maybe not all of us for the better.

[The implication was clear, it's never been like this, never so easy for him to completely fly off the handle. Sure, he'd do anything to protect Eddie but going too far like this, it wasn't him, not after what he'd dealt with growing up.

He knew better. It's somewhere around cleaning the rest of the blood off of Eddie's face that his hands start to shake. It's not an easy thing to hide when you're trying to care for someone.]

❪ once again, eddie is left standing awkwardly when the cuff of his sleeve pressed to his face and his gaze on where richie had vanished. it isn't long before he returns though and gently presses some towelettes to his face, eddie flinching slightly at the flash of pain but keeping close to rich. ❫

Yeah, maybe but we came out of there with the others. With each other this time.

❪ he sniffles slightly, hands coming to find and grip at richie's coat with a small pull because, yeah, it's hard not to notice. it's hard not to hurt once he sees richie start to shake.

carefully, as not to smear blood on him, he takes one of richie's hand and kisses his palm with a soft sigh. he isn't sure where to start making this better, wonders if he can do anything to make this better. ❫

[The fact that they'd made it out at all was miraculous, and the deep well of shit they had to go through, in some ways literally, still stayed with him. Richie hadn't ever considered that he might still be fucked up over it. When Eddie came back from the brink of death he occupied all his time and energy seeing to him like some nervous sort of hummingbird, constantly on the move, always hovering.

It's only until recently that they'd been able to really ease into the comfort of being together. The divorce had been finalized, and Richie had been there through all of it, which as unfortunate as it made him feel was probably fort he best. Myra had the same stronghold that Sonia did, and Eddie and his empathy made him a sitting duck.

After what it took and the sheer determination of it all, Richie figured he was resolute. That's where he was wrong. His fists were bloody, and he knows he broke them open but it's hard to know whether the majority of it was his blood or if most of it belonged to the asshole at the bar.

The kiss to his palm first gets a small wince, a sad fondness follows his eyes there after.]

I'm so sorry, Ed.

❪ he doesn't like to think about the miracle that was their escape from that sewer. some days, after all, are better than others but eddie's reminded of that day every time he gets dressed or his lungs stutter in a weird way. he's a lot more proud of his scars than before but they're a bitter reminder that all of this might not have happened and that a piece of him (a piece of all of them) was left in that hell cave under neibolt.

the apology hurts more than he cares to admit and eddie can only shake his head, lips brushing against richie's palm before he turns the hand over and looks over the broken skin on his knuckles. fingers ghosting over the broken skin and his body shuddering with a sigh. ❫

I'm sorry too, Rich but we'll figure this out. Together, okay? ❪ he murmurs, nudging him back gently to the couch. ❫ Now let me go get my first aid kit. I wanna clean up your hands before you end up with some infection.

I thought you wouldn't be able to fucking look at me. After all that. Wouldn't want me around.

[Sharing how he feels has never been a strong suit for him, but all the gentle kissing and the injuries and alcohol of the night have opened him up and left him a little more inhibited.

Richie sits down when he's told, it's not like he doesn't know where the kit is, and he sits back, and lets his arms fall into his lap. The events of the night keep cycling through his head like a broken reel of tape and it's impossible not see the absolute worst of himself in those moments. Something in him had snapped.]

❪ he vanishes into the kitchen for a minute to dig out one of the many kits that eddie has left around their place. safety, he had said. never mind he's also just a neurotic mess of a human. whatever the case, he returns with it in hand and toes off his shoes before settling in on the couch.

popping the kit open, he arranges a few things and listens as rich talks with a pang of hurt. he swallows and breathes out a sigh as he tears open an alcohol wipe, gently taking one of richie's hand into his own and carefully beginning to clean up the blood. ❫

I spent nearly three decades wanting you without realizing it. We went through a literal hell and back together. I'm not gonna leave you, Rich. You're stuck with me.

[Richie definitely winces a bit at the alcohol, his eyes scrunch up, but beyond that, there's no real reaction. It's difficult to have normal reactions to pain after everything the two of them had been through. It smarts but that's about all he can say for it, his hands are already a little black and blue, bruising over some of the knuckles because of impact.]

It still fucking happens. I just want to be with you, y'know? I should be allowed to be with you.

[The last part is spoken mostly to himself, he pulls his phone out with the hand Eddie's not working on, and there are six new messages from his PR consultant, his manager, shit on twitter, so much for keeping a low profile.]

This might be a bad time, but I'm not seeing much room for recourse. I'm gonna have to tell people why I lost it, and that means you might have to be in the picture too. Is that okay? I know shit's still pretty fresh, but I want to make it clear I'm not on some fluke out of control binge or something.

❪ eddie can't help but frown as the blood gives way to the beginnings of bruises that are already forming. once he's pleased enough with his cleaning, he sets the dirty wipe aside and digs around for the triple antibiotic to smear it over the open wounds that he's cleaned. ❫

I know. You're the only thing that matters though, Rich. Not what that jackasses or anyone else says. We're gonna stay together.

❪ he watches rich's movements with his phone curiously. his is still in his coat pocket but he's felt it go off more than once and wonders if one of the other losers have already seen what has happened. once rich starts talking, he has eddie's attention and he listens quietly before nodding. ❫

Yeah, of course, it's fine. Whatever you need to do, okay? I'll be fine.

[The treatment is fair and there's something intimate about them cleaning each other up that gives him soft eyes again, it's been such a journey to get to where they are now and Eddie's so grateful.]

We should take a vacation, let this all blow over. Where do you want to go?

[It's the best idea he's had in a while and city life was compact and their day to day was routine, they deserved to splurge a little bit and he could post to his social media through all that, when he felt more up to it.]

I'll handle the rest when it fucking comes. They're gonna ask questions but I'm the one with the answers, so, my terms.

❪ with the wounds clean, he goes about setting the bandages in place and then wrapping them gently with gauze. eddie can't help taking a moment to admire his work before pressing another kiss to richie's fingers with a chuckle at his question. ❫

Somewhere where it's just us and fuck all. Mountains, desert, fucking Nebraska prairie.

❪ because it's been awhile since they've gotten their lives back on track after he was cleared and they moved out here, settled in and returned to work separately. it's been harder at times when rich is gone or he's working late so the idea of a vacation or just fucking off and getting away sounds like a dream. ❫

Yeah, well, I'll do what I can to help. ❪ he says as he sets one hand down and reaches for the other. ❫ Or just sit around looking pretty, fucking whatever. I'm gonna be with you if I can.

As fun as that sounds I was thinking something more like Cabo or Puerto Vallarta, but sure let's go to like Akron, Ohio - I guess.

[The smile on his face is telling, yes, Richie might be flashier than most but an out of the country trip to Mexico and a resort would be on his dime, well his career's dime and that would afford them all the time they'd need together.

He moves to offer the other hand, taking a look at Eddie's handiwork with an appreciative grin.]

You still got it, Dr. K. Both, the answer is both. If we're going on this vacation we're going to do it right.

Ooh, Akron. Fucking fancy there, Rich. I thought we were only at the Toledo, or maybe Cleveland, stage of this relationship.

❪ eddie, in turn, can't help but smile with a huff of laughter. god, he loves seeing rich smile. it's more than enough to smooth any of the panic still lingering in his system. ❫

But, uh, let's see— Mazatlán, Isla Mujeres. You know I don't think I've had a fucking vacation since my honeymoon. ❪ if one could call it a vacation.

still, he grins in response to richie's comment and continues his work on the other hand. soon enough, finishing it as well but keeping a hold of the hand in both of his. ❫

We're gonna go, Rich. You don't need to convince me of anything.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

― open post.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject