Work Text:
THERE’S STILL TIME
Eddie is not clueless. He’s not. Except, apparently, he is when it comes to Richie. Because he does not see it coming, not until Richie opens his mouth that afternoon at the quarry:
“I like boys” his friend murmurs, and it’s as if a spell is broken. Everyone gives a collective sigh, as if they had been holding their breath since the day they met Richie. Except for Eddie. Eddie just stares at his friend open-mouthed, wide eyes and eyebrows up.
“Can someone say something?” Richie says, fear painting his every word.
Bevy is the first to talk. She’s always the first to talk when it comes to reassuring one of the boys.
“That’s good, Richie” she smiles, then fidgets. For some reason, she throws a quick glance at Eddie. “We all kind of… knew”
Richie smiles, relieved. He turns to Eddie. “Sorry, dude, guess fucking your mother turned me gay”
Everyone laughs. Except Eddie. Eddie still can’t speak. He sympathizes with Bill in that moment, because he’s sure that if he opens his mouth the words won’t come easily. He doesn’t have a chance to speak, though.
“AndIhaveaboyfriendIthinkmaybeIdo” Richie lets out. Immediately, the Losers are all over him, asking who and when and where and how. And Richie is beaming , talking with enthusiasm about some boy named Tommy, who he met at the arcade a couple of months ago.
Tommy.
“What kind of name is that?” Eddie thinks. Except he says it out loud. Everyone turns to look at him, but Richie doesn’t take the bait and just goes on and on about just how funny Tommy is, and how they all have to meet him soon.
Eddie doesn’t want to meet Tommy. Fuck Tommy, he thinks. The anger slowly beginning to boil in his stomach surprises him. He thinks of this other boy laughing at Richie’s stupid jokes and it makes him sick.
“What’s up, Eds. Cat bit your tongue or something?” asks Richie, looking somehow uneasy.
Eddie can only shake his head.
“Are you not okay with this?” asks Richie with a very pained expression.
Eddie wants to say that it’s not that, but what comes out instead is “As long as you don’t touch me”
He regrets it immediately. Richie’s face fills with disappointment first, then anger. Eddie half-hopes Richie will shout at him or something. He deserves it. But Richie does something much, much worse: he turns around and continues answering Bill’s questions, ignoring Eddie completely.
They meet Tommy two days later at the ice-cream shop. He’s tall, and broad, and blond, and pretty much everything that Eddie isn’t, which for some reason just seems wrong. He greets them all with a smile except Richie. For Richie, he looks around to make sure no one’s watching and gives him a quick kiss on the lips. And it’s so normal, the way they kiss. So natural, like they have done this many times before and it’s become a thing.
Eddie thinks it’s disgusting. Too many germs. Richie doesn’t know where that mouth’s been.
Ben, Bill, Stan and Mike order their cones and go sit at a table in the corner where Richie sits waiting. Eddie turns around to order his two cones: vanilla for him, chocolate for Richie.
“Two cones, please” says Tommy next to him. “Lemon and chocolate”
He did not.
“What are you doing?” he asks incredulously.
The boy looks around, as if he’s not sure who Eddie’s addressing. “I’m… what do you mean?”
“ I’m buying Richie’s cone”
“Oh,” says Tommy, giving him an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it this time”
Eddie looks at him angrily, but says nothing, turning around to ask for his cone.
Richie still hasn’t spoken to him, not since that day at the quarry. Eddie can’t take it anymore, so when Mrs. Tozier tells him Richie’s up in his room, he doesn’t stay to hear the rest of the sentence. He runs up the stairs, desperate to apologise and make things go back to normal.
“Jesus fuck, dude” curses Richie as soon as Eddie opens the door. “Haven’t learned how to knock? I thought you were my mom!”
Tommy, for some reason, doesn’t take his hand out of Richie’s pants. Maybe he’s too embarrassed to react, maybe it’s a way of telling Eddie to leave. Eddie does just that. He turns around, slams the door, and storms outside the house, tears welling up in his eyes.
That night, he dreams of the clown. It appears in a corner of his room, laughing evilly in the dark. You’re not enough, Eddie, he whispers. The voice sounds oddly similar to Richie’s. You’ll never be enough.
It’s two weeks later and Richie is now speaking to him, though things are not the same. Will never be the same, Eddie admits sadly. He’s wandering alone near the barrens, focused on not thinking about anything, when he sees it:
R + E.
Eddie traces the heart with his fingers. The carving seems recent, the figure standing out from the rest. Eddie wonders briefly if it was Richie who did it, then laughs sadly to himself.
When Eddie finally understands, it’s been 27 years. He takes one look at Richie, his face bathed by the red light of the chinese restaurant, his stupid hippie shirt all wrinkly and too-big glasses falling down his nose, and it all comes back to him at once. The confusion, the sadness, the tears, the nightmares, the anger. And he finally gets it.
He pushes Richie into his arms and feels like he will cry any second.
“I know, man” whispers Richie in his ear. “Missed you too”
Eddie wants to shout at him that he doesn’t understand. That he was jealous, so jealous, because it’s Richie. Of course. It’s always been Richie.
This time, Eddie does knock. Richie tells him to come in. Thankfully, he doesn’t have anyone’s hand down his pants.
“Can’t sleep?” his friend asks from the bed.
Eddie shakes his head, though Richie probably can’t see him in the dark. He approaches the bed. His hands are trembling.
“I need to tell you something,” he mutters. He clears his throat, runs his fingers through his hair, plays with his wedding ring. The seconds pass by, but it doesn’t make what Eddie’s about to do any easier.
“I think I…” he begins, and then stops.
“Eddie” whispers Richie. And suddenly, he’s all up in Eddie’s space. Like he used to be, thinks Eddie. Like he was always supposed to. Richie brings his hand to Eddie’s face, caressing his cheek, and a part of Eddie dies and a part of him explodes with life. “I know,” Richie whispers. Tears are falling from his eyes. “I know, me too. Always”
“But Tommy…?” Eddie manages to say, even though Richie’s face is close, so close, and Eddie’s whole body leans forward, his hands aching to hold, to touch. “You chose him, when we were young, you…”
“I had to give you time, Edds” says the other man. “But he wasn’t you. None of them were you”
Eddie wants to ask about “them,” wants to cry about it too. Wants to yell and kick something and hit the wall with his fists, but now Richie is kissing him. Richie is kissing him. They fall backwards onto the bed, Eddie’s waist between Richie’s knees, their bodies fitting perfectly together. And in that moment, he knows. They’re not fourteen anymore, but they’re young, so young. Eddie’s hands slide down Richie’s sides, enthusiastically but carefully, gently, slowly, so slowly, because he knows: there is still time.