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He was tired. Not just sleepy, but deeply, achingly exhausted in a way that he’d never really felt before. Richie didn’t just feel like he could sleep for a week. He felt like he could hibernate for months and still not feel like he’d pulled himself from that unending abyss. He felt odd, sprawled on the steps of a place he once swore never to return to. The Derry High School sign loomed in front of him, facing towards the street yet glaring at him all the same.
“You’re not s’pposed to smoke here, you know?”
In spite of his exhaustion, a smile still managed to pull at his lips at the sound of that oh so familiar voice. A voice that he’d forgotten and remembered. A voice that he never wanted to forget again.
“Just needed you to tell me again, Dr. K,” Richie said, flicking the ashes away from his cigarette before taking a beat to put it out against the pavement beside him. “Didn’t take the first million times you said it.”
Eddie let out a huff before drawing closer, settling on the seat next to Richie once he made sure that he was no longer blowing smoke. He looked as tired as Richie felt, yet he was somehow still upright.
“You get all that grey water out of your hair?” Richie asked, casting a side-long glance as he noticed that Eddie was wearing clean clothes.
He didn’t look too long, It’s words still lingering on the edge of his mind. Don’t touch the other boys, Richie. You don’t want them to know your secret. Yet he could still see that Eddie was scrubbed of all remnants of the confrontation in the sewers, apart from the scrapes and bruises that wouldn’t fade for a few weeks. Richie was in the same boat there, feeling like he’d been ripped apart and put back together.
“It took a few rinses,” Eddie admitted with a shudder, bringing Richie back to the present. “I used half my shampoo.”
A bigger smile formed on Richie’s face as he nodded, expecting nothing less. He remembered having to ask his mom for a new soap after offering his shower to Eddie the first time they ventured down into the sewers, twenty-seven years ago. They only thought they killed It then. Now they knew it. Richie wasn’t sure how to feel about that. A part of him felt missing, like he’d had something steady to stand on all his life, a purpose that was suddenly ripped away the moment that they crushed that heart in their hands.
Richie had no idea where to stand now.
He settled his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands as he stared out at the near empty streets of Derry. The town was shaken up after the earthquake but nowhere near to the degree of the seven people who brought an end to the evil that had twisted its way into the very foundation and hearts of Derry. Richie had to wonder if it would change now. Would people be less cruel? Less intolerant? Would kids be safe to wander the streets no matter who they loved?
Richie let his eyes drift to Eddie again, who seemed just as quiet and contemplative. From his still damp hair, no longer neatly combed back but falling over his forehead and threatened to curl like it had for a few years in high school when Eddie no longer cared what his mother thought about it, to his bouncing knee and darting eyes that took in every inch of this town that they once called home.
There was no glint off of his left hand. Nothing for the street lights overhead to reflect off of. Richie stared at that finger with focused eyes, wondering if he’d lost the ring in the sewers. Did he have it when they came out? Did he even wear it in? Had Richie seen it at all after their meal at the Jade of the Orient? Richie remembered how Eddie’s cheeks flushed when his wife entered the conversation. He feared that it was out of affection. A sure and final sign that there was no chance there. But now the ring was gone.
What the hell was he supposed to do with that?
“Jesus, Rich,” Eddie breathed out, shaking his head.
For a single moment, Richie feared that Eddie could hear his thoughts. That they’d carelessly fallen from his lips.
“What the fuck do we do now?”
Richie’s heart rate slowed down as he breathed in deeply, shrugging his shoulders.
“Write a screenplay?” he suggested. “We’d make a fucking killing in Hollywood, you know. Maybe get to choose who plays us.”
Eddie huffed out an almost laugh and looked his way.
“I’m serious, Trashmouth,” he said, a boyish reminiscence in his voice as he glanced back at the school behind them. “Our lives… they aren’t the same now. You, me, Bill, Mike, Stan, Ben, Bev… I don’t think we’re gonna forget this time.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Richie said, unable to tear his eyes from Eddie now that he was looking him full in the face.
There was a less than hidden trace of longing in his voice. He was desperate to never forget a single moment. Even if the ring came back. Even if he flew to Los Angeles alone. Richie couldn’t forget again. He just couldn’t.
“It’s dead,” Eddie breathed out, leaning back against the step behind him.
After a moment, he suddenly let out a laugh. Not a small huff. Not a short chuckle. A full bellied laugh, his cheeks turning pink and his eyes screwing shut as he tilted his head back towards the sky. He’d never looked quite this beautiful, nor had he ever looked quite this attainable. Richie felt like he was within arm’s reach for the first time in… forever.
“We can do whatever the fuck we want, Rich,” Eddie said, his laughter tapering off as he tilted his head towards Richie with shining eyes. “Isn’t that beautiful?”
Richie was already leaning in as he breathed out the answer.
“Yeah, Eds,” he said, cupping the cheek of the man he loved with careful tenderness. “It’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”
He leaned in slowly, his eyes falling closed so that he wouldn’t have to see the shock play across Eddie’s face. He had to do it once. Just once. Eddie had been so brave in the sewers, proving everyone wrong who ever thought that he was weak. Richie could be brave. He could do this, just once. Even if everything went to shit after, he had to know how it felt. Their lips brushed in a soft kiss so brief and light that it was barely a kiss at all. Yet Richie felt enlivened by it all the same, his body set alight by the rush of adrenaline and sheer joy that came from finally kissing the love of his life after years of yearning that he didn’t even remember until days ago. He couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes even as he pulled away. Even when Eddie’s hand lifted and brushed over his cheek.
“Richie,” Eddie said, his voice almost strained.
He flinched just slightly at the sound of his name, fearing what would come next.
“Open your eyes.”
Richie shook his head, feeling unable to do it.
“C’mon, Richie,” Eddie said, his other hand lifting to clasp Richie’s wrist.
He realized that he was still touching Eddie’s cheek yet couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Richie felt rooted to the spot, unable to move even if he wanted to.
“I can’t, Eds,” he whispered.
A moment passed, then another. Then he heard Eddie exhale slowly and braced himself for the worst… only to feel the slightest pressure on his lips. Another kiss, freely given. Richie leaned in without hesitation, only now realizing how desperate he’d been for reciprocation. He didn’t even notice as a tear slipped down his cheek, only opening his eyes when Eddie pulled away with a gasp. There was a tender look on his face as he brushed the tear away before looking into Richie’s eyes. A smile pulled at those lips that Richie fantasized about more than any other. Eddie looked beautiful. More beautiful than anything in the world. God, he loved him. Richie wanted to spill it all out right there but he kept his lips shut, somehow knowing that there would be time. They had plenty of it and, like Eddie said, they could do whatever the fuck they wanted.
It really was beautiful.