[For a moment, Richie thinks something might be on his face or somehow the submissive tattoo was latent in appearance and started slowly bleeding into the skin on his neck.
The way Eddie's eyes fall over him make him full vulnerable, blown wide-open. It's not until that bad joke about his height comes out that he relaxes. Only to stiffen up again as soon as Eddie's caressing his face. It's such a simple thing, something they've done so many times before but it feels deeper this time. More complex. He and Eddie have been through hell and back, and there's no way to know if they were better for it.
Those familiar gray eyes and dimples do him in every time and Richie buries himself into the embrace like it might be the last time for a long time. There's no telling what this place was going to do to them.]
(It's an easy quip, an easy come-back, and he says it with one of the few smiles he only ever showed to Richie. There's a bit of a glint in his eyes, some edge that had always been there when he'd had the nerve to say anything like that to Richie before, and mostly because those moments of brief bravery only came when he wasn't paying too much attention to them.)
You filled out. (Like, really filled out. Eddie puts his hands on Richie's shoulders, trying his very best to make it seem as friendly as humanly possible. Richie had always been bigger than him, but hoo baby. Eddie's trying to remember when he had last seen Richie when they were kids, but a lot of Derry memories were still practically blank. They had only just barely unearthed some of them.
It's true that there was no telling what was going to happen. They had shitty luck when it came to keeping each other in their lives, and it's that idea that makes Eddie move. He starts to walk again, but he rests his hand lightly at Richie's elbow. A small, discrete gesture, something he'd done a million times as a kid. He vaguely remembered holding Richie's hand a whole lot when they were seven, eight, nine...Then at one point it had stopped being cute that they were holding hands all the time and people started to give them ugly looks for it. Eddie remembered one of their teachers even pulling them aside to tell them to start behaving more appropriately in the halls. Eddie hadn't understood really what they had been doing back then, but he grew up and realized, and even now he realized to some extent.
But it's that stubborn streak of braveness that lets him keep his fingers at Richie's elbows, walking probably too close, but Eddie thought he'd rather die again than have to sacrifice whatever moment he could get with Richie. As they walked along, he caught sight of their reflection in the window panes of storefronts, and for a split second, he thought they looked like themselves as kids, but he blinked and it was gone. He looks back at Richie, smiling again.)
So besides all the weird shit about this place, how have you been? Are your digs nice?
[Richie couldn't be sure if he was flirting or if it was more of the same. They had always toed that line between friends and more, and what they did in public had gotten them in trouble more than a few times. His own desire to see that glint in his eyes and feel his hands on his body might be perverse but he couldn't help but pursue it now. There's no telling how long it might last, and so he soaks up his attention like a sponge. Eddie was the only person that made him feel worthwhile.
Walking along the pack, he's careful not to get any unwanted attention from any of the other dominants in the Up. He's still not sure what disciplinary action entails and he doesn't want to find out. Especially not at the expense of Eddie, he'd take the full brunt of it if it meant saving him. The fact that he couldn't back home constantly loomed over him.]
They're okay. I mean, not my style but better than what I've seen from the Down. What about you? How's your place?
cw: all of eddie's mental issues like in one neat post ig
(They had always both struggled on that end. Eddie had indefinitely figured Richie was just always teasing him for a reaction or was just being Richie. It had always been safer to think that than the alternative. Even now he could hear It taunting him with a blowjob, hear his mother muttering darkly about Richie Tozier's foul mouth and bad influence. Boy, if Sonia Kaspbrak knew where he was and who he was with now? She wouldn't just be rolling in her grave, she'd be downright combusting in it.
I haven't been your little boy in a long time, momma... Yet he still felt like she was breathing down his neck. After all, hadn't he been the one to chain himself to the shape of her in his wife? Eddie's quiet, his mind splitting off for a moment, and Richie's voice washes over him. He really does think he's dead, at times, and it fucked with his head, fucked with his sense of reality. He holds Richie's arm a bit more securely, digging his fingers in gently but firmly enough to feel the meat of Richie's bicep. Real, real, real. This is real, Eddie Spaghetti. He laughed briskly, abruptly, at Richie's voice offering him a calming source while Richie himself was walking right next to him. Eddie realized he'd laughed out loud out of the blue, and he snapped his mouth shut, frowning.)
Oh, yeah. (Right, yeah. Focus, Eds.) I mean it's fine...They're clean. The bed's comfortable. I kind of enjoy the polished look, but I miss my records. It feels weird being alone. I keep ummm- I keep thinking my mom's in the other room or something. (He was hardly about to fess up to how deep those issues went, but his eyes do flicker with a bit of that genuine anxiety. He'd replaced his mother immediately with Myra, after all. This felt like the furthest he'd ever actually gone from his mom.)
[Taunting Eddie about blow jobs and the size of his dick was just good comedy as a kid. Now it would be in poor taste, especially after their moment with that ice cream cone. Richie loved egging Eddie on, and the responses he got never failed to make him smile.
Now though everything was too fresh and too torn open, and it would be salt in that wound.]
Oh, trust me, she's not. Looking for your mom in fuck-town was the first thing I did.
[So much for being serious, Richie rolls his shoulders back and takes Eddie's hand. Better to let him know that he didn't mean it. Not like he used to.]
(It's true. Everything was achingly fresh, and Eddie was straddling between what felt real, what felt like some sort of wild fantasy. After the ice cream thing had happened, Eddie had partially convinced himself it was some sort of lucid wet dream. It wouldn't have been the first he'd have of Richie, only he knew by now that if this was some over the top detailed wet dream, he hadn't quite finished it yet. Or woken up.
The mom joke almost catches Eddie off guard. Richie's hand in his was comfortable, and he instinctively slid their fingers together, not thinking about it.)
Wow...(Eddie drawled. Then he reached his hand up to Richie's hair and gave it a short, but firm yank.) You get three mom-fucking jokes in this place and that's your first one. Any past that and I'm kicking your ass.
(No he wasn't, but he still gives another hair yank just to assert his dominance no pun intended???. He lets go, rubbing Richie's head where he had yanked as if to apologize. He hadn't pulled too hard. No harder than when he had been young, anyway. He lowers his hand back down to grab Richie's hand again.)
For that, you're paying. (They had arrived at the place. He pulls the door open and ducks in, releasing Richie's hand with some reluctance as he did. It really didn't seem like that bad of a place, and they manage to get a booth fairly quick. Eddie tucks himself right in next to Richie rather than bothering to sit across from him. That had never changed either, apparently. The waitress at the diner back in Derry used to give Eddie such a funny look for crawling in after Richie when it was just the two of them. Eddie argued diligently that it was because it was just easier to hear when he was on the same side, but of course that argument seemed to not matter as much when he went out to eat with anyone else.
[That yank was enough to feel it all the way through his spine equal parts thrill and annoyance. As a kid Richie loved when Eddie would lead him around or clap back because it felt like something special only he could rile out of him. Now though, after the ache of poor sleep had set into his bones he was a little less into it.
The gentle assuaging rub makes certain that he doesn't bite back with some extra remark.]
Oh c'mon! Only three? Well, two now. You know I have a poor self-control.
[The restaurant is fine, and no one pays them any mind. No lingering eyes or uncomfortable looks. Richie slips the menu closer and flips it over in his hands.]
Starting to feel like the whole dominant thing's gone to your head, bud. You sure you can stomach dinner and drinks? I like mine strong and dark.
(Eddie would have felt bad had he known, and he might have felt a little awkward if only because he still felt like he was finding his feet with everything. Relearning an entire relationship was something he hadn't stopped to think about.
Eddie does give him a bit of a hard look.)
Yes, Richie, only two. Learn some. I don't really feel like hearing sex jokes about my dead mom in a city about sex, okay?
(That much was true. He really just didn't want to hear about his mother period in any sort of way. Some small part of him was hoping that he could forget her existence just like he had forgotten Derry's, but he had a feeling that wasn't quite so simple of a fix.)
Those jokes are bad anyway. (An afterthought statement, and Eddie's leaning onto an elbow to look down at the menu.)
Nothing's gone to my head. (He didn't think anyway, though he doesn't entirely brush the comment off inside. He gives Richie another look, a flatter one this time.)
I don't know what your Eddie was like, but I had no problem with dinner and drinks at the Jade so I hardly see why I'd have a problem with it now. I've been having dinner and drinks for years now.
(Which maybe he was a little defensive, and it was more of a general thing. A lot of guys he worked with never thought he could handle drinks either. But truthfully, Eddie probably had a better stomach than most with how much shit he pumped into his system on a regular basis.)
I guess we should be thankful it's not a city that promotes necrophilia instead.
[It's a little jab, one to get back at him for the hair pull but without a single mention of his mom to pass muster. Richie settles back and extends his legs in the booth like he always did.]
Hey, my jokes are great. I'm an actual comedian, remember? Live shows and the while nine yards.
[Not that his material was always his, of course. Richie orders two doubles of spiced whisky when the waitress comes by and she's nice, friendly, and gives them a little too big of a smile when she moves away.
His eyebrows knit while he goes over the menu.]
I know that but -what were you thinking for food? Wanna split something? Looks like they've got a decent club sandwich.
(It was a dark joke, probably too dark all things considered, but Eddie had always coped a bit weirdly with things. Eddie keeps himself tucked neat and tight next to Richie.)
Really? (No, Eddie didn't remember clearly, but he looks intrigued.) You're a disc jokey in my time.
(Another difference, he supposed, but the idea of Richie as a comedian does make Eddie smile a little.)
I always knew you'd get big like that. When you're not trying to piss me off, your jokes are pretty good.
(Eddie had always found Richie hilarious, to be fair. He had been dedicated to being Richie's own personal cheerleader growing up. Eddie doesn't notice the waitress, but he does at least notice the menu.)
...But what? (Of course he was going to press.) Yeah, that sounds good.
[Richie huffs out of a laugh, of course Eddie would be the guy to use his own situation to make some morbid humor like that. It never failed to make him smile, but this time it's a mournful one instead of generous and sincere.]
Okay, I mean - I love music, and I love the sound of my own voice. Makes sense.
[Eddie saying his jokes were good definitely hits him in the sternum. He loved making Eddie laugh, he was a challenge, and as a kid that was one of the biggest efforts he put time in for.]
I just don't think we should get as drunk as I did at The Jade. Okay, Turkey Club and drinks with this cutie then!
[Richie passes off the menu when their waitress brings their drinks.]
Don't think there's a god. Well, at least not outside of the turtle anyway.
(Which Eddie was almost positive he'd seen on his way out of death. Or felt the warmth of- something. He hadn't felt alone, but in a nice way.)
Yeah, it does. (Eddie smiles with some measure of fondness.) I bet you were amazing at it too. I never got the chance to hear any of it.
(Which...sucked. As a kid Eddie always figured he'd be the president of all official Richie Tozier fanclubs. It was hard for him to imagine not supporting him.)
Oh trust me. I'm not looking to get drunk again just yet. I'm the one that brought a bottle of scotch to the library. Or was it whiskey...Shit, I don't remember. Things are already feeling fuzzy again.
(Eddie says this with a soft snort, rolling his eyes at himself. He was rarely sober, but his means of achieving that were far more subtle. He rests his chin into his palm, looking at Richie.)
Cutie? (Eddie makes an entire display of looking wide eyed and around the table.) Is someone joining us?
[A turtle is news to Richie, but he knew a lot of cultures revered them so it's not surprising in that sense just the one that involved Eddie believing in some revered and honorable reptile.]
You didn't miss much. Don't worry.
[Talking about what a sell-out he was, and how he became exactly what he hated just to get fit in wasn't something he wanted to get into. That was just the sort of talk that would keep them depressed.]
You think they're always gonna feel like this? Frayed around the edges?
[The memories, is what he means. They're integral to who they were, some real foundation work for them and he had little dips and cracks in his own. Enough for it to be concerning now that Eddie's bringing it up again.]
Stop trying to bait me into mom jokes. I'm saving my last two for important occasions. If you just want me to say you're cute again - there, just did.
...The turtle? Maturin? (Eddie stares a bit hopelessly at Richie.) How the fuck do you not know? You literally-. It's like the only reason we could even defeat It. Maturin puked up our universe? None of this ringing a bell?
(Why was everything so different. Eddie rubs at his temple, sighing to himself.)
I'd like to figure that out for myself, thanks. (It's a gentle refusal of whatever mediocrity Richie thought he had going for him. Eddie had always seen Richie with stars in his eyes though.
It's a good question, and one Eddie had been wondering himself. He doesn't need the clarification because there was only really one thing Richie could be referring to. Eddie couldn't even really remember all of the Losers' names anymore and it hadn't been that long since they'd left. He wondered if it was worse because he was dead.)
I don't know. (Might as well be honest. He tips his head to look at Richie, looking a bit caged and nervous.)
I think so. I'm trying to remember everyone's names and I can't, really. I think there was a woman with us, but I don't remember. I remember two, maybe? When I was dying Bill was...(He frowns down at the table.) He was more worried about the second woman.
(Eddie swallows thickly, before shaking his head.)
Aubra? Audrey? Audra? Something like that, maybe. His wife. (Eddie was pretty positive that was right.
The confusion fades into amusement, and he grins at Richie.)
I'm sure you'll find new material in a city that glorifies schlong on the regular.
(He pats Richie's thigh just under the table, but in a friendly sort of way, slapping the thigh more than patting it. Mostly because Eddie was difficult. More difficult than anyone ever realized. Except maybe Richie.)
Do I get points for saying yes even though I don't have a damn clue what you're talking about?
[It was starting to add insult to injury, how much Eddie knew and how little it contrasted with what he had been through. Richie kept it to himself, but it was starting to feel like he was the one out of time and not Eddie.]
Bev? Two- wait, there weren't- Bill didn't even really mention Audra except for at The Jade.
[From what Richie could tell she seemed like a good woman, but there was strain like with any romance. Not that he had a lot of experience in that department.]
Maybe. In a place like this, the sky's the limit.
[The gentle pat to his thigh makes him jump, not so much out of shock but out of tentative arousal. Eddie's hands, pinching, prodding always got that sort of response. One that he'd gently nudge into wrestling with him or pushing him underwater so he could save. There wasn't much saving face here.]
(Eddie wilts a little, but not because of Richie. Or well, maybe, but not because of Riche-Richie. Rather not understanding why so much was different.)
She like came all the way to Derry for him. (Definitely not a strained relationship. Or if it was, it was because Bill Denbrough had grown into a real asshole who couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Eddie's view of his old best friend had changed a significant amount, but he doesn't know how to talk about that either.)
I don't know why nothing's the same with us. It's...weird. I know it's you? It just...It's like all the details are off.
(Which was a bit of a headache.) I'd say we should write it down, but I'm starting to forget some stuff again and part of me sort of wants to.
Eddie laughs lowly when Richie jumps, and he just gives him a rather coy look, smirking.)
Wow. Yeah, I only heard about her here and there over dinner. Then the tone shifted, and I mean - once that happened no one was really discussing home triumphs.
[Not that he had anyway, Richie was unmarried and unenthusiastic about the spousal conversation, to begin with. He had his career and that was it and comedy could be one bitch of a mistress. Stand-up was a great source of income but it was boring and it smothered his creativity and his will to even keep going.]
Nothing's a strong word. I mean, all the differences seem to be mine, right? Maybe I'm the one that's different.
[Anything to take the load off of Eddie, even just a little. He already had plenty to reckon with.] I'm so not writing any of this shit down. It's all circumstantial. I know who I'm talking to.
[Richie smiles and slaps the menus in front of them down after ordering. Two sandwiches and a single plate of extra fries they could fight over, just like old times.
His attempt to save face in front of the waitress was weak at best, he's just glad he narrowly missed knocking his knee into the bottom of the table in the midst of it all.]
Just like I know you're not sorry, you little shit.
It sounds like our side of the coin had a bit more time to catch up. We talked for a long time. We talked about why none of us had kids- stuff like that.
(Granted there had been the similar interruption of demon fortune cookies, but it had just been one thing on the list. Eddie hadn't been a fan discussing children either, and he had been bitchy and snappy that entire conversation. Eddie hadn't been thrilled about spousal discussion himself. He hated to bring up Myra in front of the others. It had felt like admitting defeat, and he hadn't been able to look at Richie while he did it.)
How do you figure they're yours? You don't feel different.
(Eddie's brow's furrowed, but gradually it smoothes out. He rests forward and cups his face with both of his hands.)
I think you're right, actually. (He had been pretty upset about the differences originally. Confused, conflicted, wondering what had happened that made everything so weird.) It's not like we're there anymore. And it's not like we can turn back time. There's only what's left in front of us.
(He wasn't even trying to be sentimental. It was just true. They were the only ones in the city, and Eddie had died. Even if they were thrown back into their world, there was nothing there for him anymore except the ground he'd rot on. He doesn't say as much to Richie, but it's there in the air.)
This is my only future now anyway. (Because it was. He looks at Richie, his gray eyes dark but certain.) So...Fuck it, right? I have you.
(Which is the only thing Eddie's ever really cared about to begin with. He lets Richie order, smiling against the edge of his hand. The smile only grows.)
I...am an innocent man, Richard. I've only got pure intentions.
[Kids. Jesus. Richie never even considered having a family, not after life in Derry. He didn't feel fit to be responsible for a tiny human being when he could barely take care of himself.]
You don't feel different either.
[It was appearances, a hardened man versus one a whole lot closer to what Richie would've pictured in his head. Life hadn't been kind to either of them so it's no small wonder why things had gone the way that they had. Sometimes Richie feels twice his age.]
Yeah, just me and you. Like old times.
[Except this time they didn't have haul ass to try and keep up with Bill's lady bike or fight any malevolent entities that wanted to rip them apart.] You're a bad liar is what you are. I know better. [Richie instigated his fair share of fights, and if he wasn't pinching Eddie's cheeks and calling him cute for the whole world to hear he was pinning him down and tickling his knees. Telling the rest of the losers about how Eddie stole sugar. Sweet little Eddie, who he knew was always quietly paying attention.]
(Eddie had just never liked the idea of kids. They were loud, sticky, prone to illness. He didn't have the patience or the interest. Plus, being from the 50s and being the way he was? He didn't think men like him could even have kids. It had never been a dream of his, and in many ways, he had been painfully relieved that he was possibly infertile and that Myra had never been able to take. Lord knows he would have hated himself so much more if she had ever gotten knocked up. A wife was a shackle, but children would have been an entire cage.
Eddie smiles back at Richie, his eyes brighter than before. He was relieved, and a part of him wanted to reach out to Richie and just cling to him. He was still feeling a little emotional about dying, maybe, but he didn't want to lose sight of Richie anytime soon.)
Except now we have bad joints.
(A little sad, but better them together than not at all.
He bats his eyes doefully at Richie, doing his very best impersonation of Bambi. Not that he had to try too hard. He had always had one of those faces.)
I've never lied a day in my life. (Offended by the very idea. Only he's grinning a moment later and gently poking Richie in the side just under the table.)
I'm a great liar. You just always know what to look for. (Eddie wasn't a good liar at all. Richie was completely right. Eddie showed too much of his heart at all times. But sometimes he liked to try. He had gotten decent about it with his mother at least, and that had always been the most important lie. His joking fades as he looks at Richie, his expression suddenly tight and serious.)
[Richie's head waivers on his neck, he might as well have scoliosis thanks to never growing into his body. He always felt like he should be smaller somehow, more compact, but the gangly days were long behind him and so was a lot of the puberty-based clumsiness.]
You wish. You lied more than I did. [Back in Derry especially, of course, Richie never faulted him for it. He would've done anything to get away from that helicopter mom too. Sonia took hovering parent to bold new levels and it was dark but he's glad that she died. Richie jabs Eddie with his elbow lightly on his way to get a drink, and it's purposeful enough that it gets his message out loud and clear.] Of course. I promise you we'll make this work. No matter what it takes.
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The way Eddie's eyes fall over him make him full vulnerable, blown wide-open. It's not until that bad joke about his height comes out that he relaxes. Only to stiffen up again as soon as Eddie's caressing his face. It's such a simple thing, something they've done so many times before but it feels deeper this time. More complex. He and Eddie have been through hell and back, and there's no way to know if they were better for it.
Those familiar gray eyes and dimples do him in every time and Richie buries himself into the embrace like it might be the last time for a long time. There's no telling what this place was going to do to them.]
I'm not the only one. Look at yourself.
cw: homophobiaaaa thnks derry
(It's an easy quip, an easy come-back, and he says it with one of the few smiles he only ever showed to Richie. There's a bit of a glint in his eyes, some edge that had always been there when he'd had the nerve to say anything like that to Richie before, and mostly because those moments of brief bravery only came when he wasn't paying too much attention to them.)
You filled out. (Like, really filled out. Eddie puts his hands on Richie's shoulders, trying his very best to make it seem as friendly as humanly possible. Richie had always been bigger than him, but hoo baby. Eddie's trying to remember when he had last seen Richie when they were kids, but a lot of Derry memories were still practically blank. They had only just barely unearthed some of them.
It's true that there was no telling what was going to happen. They had shitty luck when it came to keeping each other in their lives, and it's that idea that makes Eddie move. He starts to walk again, but he rests his hand lightly at Richie's elbow. A small, discrete gesture, something he'd done a million times as a kid. He vaguely remembered holding Richie's hand a whole lot when they were seven, eight, nine...Then at one point it had stopped being cute that they were holding hands all the time and people started to give them ugly looks for it. Eddie remembered one of their teachers even pulling them aside to tell them to start behaving more appropriately in the halls. Eddie hadn't understood really what they had been doing back then, but he grew up and realized, and even now he realized to some extent.
But it's that stubborn streak of braveness that lets him keep his fingers at Richie's elbows, walking probably too close, but Eddie thought he'd rather die again than have to sacrifice whatever moment he could get with Richie. As they walked along, he caught sight of their reflection in the window panes of storefronts, and for a split second, he thought they looked like themselves as kids, but he blinked and it was gone. He looks back at Richie, smiling again.)
So besides all the weird shit about this place, how have you been? Are your digs nice?
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Walking along the pack, he's careful not to get any unwanted attention from any of the other dominants in the Up. He's still not sure what disciplinary action entails and he doesn't want to find out. Especially not at the expense of Eddie, he'd take the full brunt of it if it meant saving him. The fact that he couldn't back home constantly loomed over him.]
They're okay. I mean, not my style but better than what I've seen from the Down. What about you? How's your place?
cw: all of eddie's mental issues like in one neat post ig
I haven't been your little boy in a long time, momma... Yet he still felt like she was breathing down his neck. After all, hadn't he been the one to chain himself to the shape of her in his wife? Eddie's quiet, his mind splitting off for a moment, and Richie's voice washes over him. He really does think he's dead, at times, and it fucked with his head, fucked with his sense of reality. He holds Richie's arm a bit more securely, digging his fingers in gently but firmly enough to feel the meat of Richie's bicep. Real, real, real. This is real, Eddie Spaghetti. He laughed briskly, abruptly, at Richie's voice offering him a calming source while Richie himself was walking right next to him. Eddie realized he'd laughed out loud out of the blue, and he snapped his mouth shut, frowning.)
Oh, yeah. (Right, yeah. Focus, Eds.) I mean it's fine...They're clean. The bed's comfortable. I kind of enjoy the polished look, but I miss my records. It feels weird being alone. I keep ummm- I keep thinking my mom's in the other room or something. (He was hardly about to fess up to how deep those issues went, but his eyes do flicker with a bit of that genuine anxiety. He'd replaced his mother immediately with Myra, after all. This felt like the furthest he'd ever actually gone from his mom.)
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Now though everything was too fresh and too torn open, and it would be salt in that wound.]
Oh, trust me, she's not. Looking for your mom in fuck-town was the first thing I did.
[So much for being serious, Richie rolls his shoulders back and takes Eddie's hand. Better to let him know that he didn't mean it. Not like he used to.]
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The mom joke almost catches Eddie off guard. Richie's hand in his was comfortable, and he instinctively slid their fingers together, not thinking about it.)
Wow...(Eddie drawled. Then he reached his hand up to Richie's hair and gave it a short, but firm yank.) You get three mom-fucking jokes in this place and that's your first one. Any past that and I'm kicking your ass.
(No he wasn't, but he still gives another hair yank just to assert his dominance
no pun intended???. He lets go, rubbing Richie's head where he had yanked as if to apologize. He hadn't pulled too hard. No harder than when he had been young, anyway. He lowers his hand back down to grab Richie's hand again.)For that, you're paying. (They had arrived at the place. He pulls the door open and ducks in, releasing Richie's hand with some reluctance as he did. It really didn't seem like that bad of a place, and they manage to get a booth fairly quick. Eddie tucks himself right in next to Richie rather than bothering to sit across from him. That had never changed either, apparently. The waitress at the diner back in Derry used to give Eddie such a funny look for crawling in after Richie when it was just the two of them. Eddie argued diligently that it was because it was just easier to hear when he was on the same side, but of course that argument seemed to not matter as much when he went out to eat with anyone else.
Details, though.)
Buy me a drink. Dealer's choice.
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[That yank was enough to feel it all the way through his spine equal parts thrill and annoyance. As a kid Richie loved when Eddie would lead him around or clap back because it felt like something special only he could rile out of him. Now though, after the ache of poor sleep had set into his bones he was a little less into it.
The gentle assuaging rub makes certain that he doesn't bite back with some extra remark.]
Oh c'mon! Only three? Well, two now. You know I have a poor self-control.
[The restaurant is fine, and no one pays them any mind. No lingering eyes or uncomfortable looks. Richie slips the menu closer and flips it over in his hands.]
Starting to feel like the whole dominant thing's gone to your head, bud. You sure you can stomach dinner and drinks? I like mine strong and dark.
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Eddie does give him a bit of a hard look.)
Yes, Richie, only two. Learn some. I don't really feel like hearing sex jokes about my dead mom in a city about sex, okay?
(That much was true. He really just didn't want to hear about his mother period in any sort of way. Some small part of him was hoping that he could forget her existence just like he had forgotten Derry's, but he had a feeling that wasn't quite so simple of a fix.)
Those jokes are bad anyway. (An afterthought statement, and Eddie's leaning onto an elbow to look down at the menu.)
Nothing's gone to my head. (He didn't think anyway, though he doesn't entirely brush the comment off inside. He gives Richie another look, a flatter one this time.)
I don't know what your Eddie was like, but I had no problem with dinner and drinks at the Jade so I hardly see why I'd have a problem with it now. I've been having dinner and drinks for years now.
(Which maybe he was a little defensive, and it was more of a general thing. A lot of guys he worked with never thought he could handle drinks either. But truthfully, Eddie probably had a better stomach than most with how much shit he pumped into his system on a regular basis.)
Then get us some strong and dark drinks.
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[It's a little jab, one to get back at him for the hair pull but without a single mention of his mom to pass muster. Richie settles back and extends his legs in the booth like he always did.]
Hey, my jokes are great. I'm an actual comedian, remember? Live shows and the while nine yards.
[Not that his material was always his, of course. Richie orders two doubles of spiced whisky when the waitress comes by and she's nice, friendly, and gives them a little too big of a smile when she moves away.
His eyebrows knit while he goes over the menu.]
I know that but -what were you thinking for food? Wanna split something? Looks like they've got a decent club sandwich.
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(It was a dark joke, probably too dark all things considered, but Eddie had always coped a bit weirdly with things. Eddie keeps himself tucked neat and tight next to Richie.)
Really? (No, Eddie didn't remember clearly, but he looks intrigued.) You're a disc jokey in my time.
(Another difference, he supposed, but the idea of Richie as a comedian does make Eddie smile a little.)
I always knew you'd get big like that. When you're not trying to piss me off, your jokes are pretty good.
(Eddie had always found Richie hilarious, to be fair. He had been dedicated to being Richie's own personal cheerleader growing up. Eddie doesn't notice the waitress, but he does at least notice the menu.)
...But what? (Of course he was going to press.) Yeah, that sounds good.
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[Richie huffs out of a laugh, of course Eddie would be the guy to use his own situation to make some morbid humor like that. It never failed to make him smile, but this time it's a mournful one instead of generous and sincere.]
Okay, I mean - I love music, and I love the sound of my own voice. Makes sense.
[Eddie saying his jokes were good definitely hits him in the sternum. He loved making Eddie laugh, he was a challenge, and as a kid that was one of the biggest efforts he put time in for.]
I just don't think we should get as drunk as I did at The Jade. Okay, Turkey Club and drinks with this cutie then!
[Richie passes off the menu when their waitress brings their drinks.]
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(Which Eddie was almost positive he'd seen on his way out of death. Or felt the warmth of- something. He hadn't felt alone, but in a nice way.)
Yeah, it does. (Eddie smiles with some measure of fondness.) I bet you were amazing at it too. I never got the chance to hear any of it.
(Which...sucked. As a kid Eddie always figured he'd be the president of all official Richie Tozier fanclubs. It was hard for him to imagine not supporting him.)
Oh trust me. I'm not looking to get drunk again just yet. I'm the one that brought a bottle of scotch to the library. Or was it whiskey...Shit, I don't remember. Things are already feeling fuzzy again.
(Eddie says this with a soft snort, rolling his eyes at himself. He was rarely sober, but his means of achieving that were far more subtle. He rests his chin into his palm, looking at Richie.)
Cutie? (Eddie makes an entire display of looking wide eyed and around the table.) Is someone joining us?
(He was absolutely being a little shit.)
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[A turtle is news to Richie, but he knew a lot of cultures revered them so it's not surprising in that sense just the one that involved Eddie believing in some revered and honorable reptile.]
You didn't miss much. Don't worry.
[Talking about what a sell-out he was, and how he became exactly what he hated just to get fit in wasn't something he wanted to get into. That was just the sort of talk that would keep them depressed.]
You think they're always gonna feel like this? Frayed around the edges?
[The memories, is what he means. They're integral to who they were, some real foundation work for them and he had little dips and cracks in his own. Enough for it to be concerning now that Eddie's bringing it up again.]
Stop trying to bait me into mom jokes. I'm saving my last two for important occasions. If you just want me to say you're cute again - there, just did.
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(Why was everything so different. Eddie rubs at his temple, sighing to himself.)
I'd like to figure that out for myself, thanks. (It's a gentle refusal of whatever mediocrity Richie thought he had going for him. Eddie had always seen Richie with stars in his eyes though.
It's a good question, and one Eddie had been wondering himself. He doesn't need the clarification because there was only really one thing Richie could be referring to. Eddie couldn't even really remember all of the Losers' names anymore and it hadn't been that long since they'd left. He wondered if it was worse because he was dead.)
I don't know. (Might as well be honest. He tips his head to look at Richie, looking a bit caged and nervous.)
I think so. I'm trying to remember everyone's names and I can't, really. I think there was a woman with us, but I don't remember. I remember two, maybe? When I was dying Bill was...(He frowns down at the table.) He was more worried about the second woman.
(Eddie swallows thickly, before shaking his head.)
Aubra? Audrey? Audra? Something like that, maybe. His wife. (Eddie was pretty positive that was right.
The confusion fades into amusement, and he grins at Richie.)
I'm sure you'll find new material in a city that glorifies schlong on the regular.
(He pats Richie's thigh just under the table, but in a friendly sort of way, slapping the thigh more than patting it. Mostly because Eddie was difficult. More difficult than anyone ever realized. Except maybe Richie.)
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[It was starting to add insult to injury, how much Eddie knew and how little it contrasted with what he had been through. Richie kept it to himself, but it was starting to feel like he was the one out of time and not Eddie.]
Bev? Two- wait, there weren't- Bill didn't even really mention Audra except for at The Jade.
[From what Richie could tell she seemed like a good woman, but there was strain like with any romance. Not that he had a lot of experience in that department.]
Maybe. In a place like this, the sky's the limit.
[The gentle pat to his thigh makes him jump, not so much out of shock but out of tentative arousal. Eddie's hands, pinching, prodding always got that sort of response. One that he'd gently nudge into wrestling with him or pushing him underwater so he could save. There wasn't much saving face here.]
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She like came all the way to Derry for him. (Definitely not a strained relationship. Or if it was, it was because Bill Denbrough had grown into a real asshole who couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Eddie's view of his old best friend had changed a significant amount, but he doesn't know how to talk about that either.)
I don't know why nothing's the same with us. It's...weird. I know it's you? It just...It's like all the details are off.
(Which was a bit of a headache.) I'd say we should write it down, but I'm starting to forget some stuff again and part of me sort of wants to.
Eddie laughs lowly when Richie jumps, and he just gives him a rather coy look, smirking.)
Sorry.
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[Not that he had anyway, Richie was unmarried and unenthusiastic about the spousal conversation, to begin with. He had his career and that was it and comedy could be one bitch of a mistress. Stand-up was a great source of income but it was boring and it smothered his creativity and his will to even keep going.]
Nothing's a strong word. I mean, all the differences seem to be mine, right? Maybe I'm the one that's different.
[Anything to take the load off of Eddie, even just a little. He already had plenty to reckon with.] I'm so not writing any of this shit down. It's all circumstantial. I know who I'm talking to.
[Richie smiles and slaps the menus in front of them down after ordering. Two sandwiches and a single plate of extra fries they could fight over, just like old times.
His attempt to save face in front of the waitress was weak at best, he's just glad he narrowly missed knocking his knee into the bottom of the table in the midst of it all.]
Just like I know you're not sorry, you little shit.
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(Granted there had been the similar interruption of demon fortune cookies, but it had just been one thing on the list. Eddie hadn't been a fan discussing children either, and he had been bitchy and snappy that entire conversation. Eddie hadn't been thrilled about spousal discussion himself. He hated to bring up Myra in front of the others. It had felt like admitting defeat, and he hadn't been able to look at Richie while he did it.)
How do you figure they're yours? You don't feel different.
(Eddie's brow's furrowed, but gradually it smoothes out. He rests forward and cups his face with both of his hands.)
I think you're right, actually. (He had been pretty upset about the differences originally. Confused, conflicted, wondering what had happened that made everything so weird.) It's not like we're there anymore. And it's not like we can turn back time. There's only what's left in front of us.
(He wasn't even trying to be sentimental. It was just true. They were the only ones in the city, and Eddie had died. Even if they were thrown back into their world, there was nothing there for him anymore except the ground he'd rot on. He doesn't say as much to Richie, but it's there in the air.)
This is my only future now anyway. (Because it was. He looks at Richie, his gray eyes dark but certain.) So...Fuck it, right? I have you.
(Which is the only thing Eddie's ever really cared about to begin with. He lets Richie order, smiling against the edge of his hand. The smile only grows.)
I...am an innocent man, Richard. I've only got pure intentions.
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You don't feel different either.
[It was appearances, a hardened man versus one a whole lot closer to what Richie would've pictured in his head. Life hadn't been kind to either of them so it's no small wonder why things had gone the way that they had. Sometimes Richie feels twice his age.]
Yeah, just me and you. Like old times.
[Except this time they didn't have haul ass to try and keep up with Bill's lady bike or fight any malevolent entities that wanted to rip them apart.] You're a bad liar is what you are. I know better. [Richie instigated his fair share of fights, and if he wasn't pinching Eddie's cheeks and calling him cute for the whole world to hear he was pinning him down and tickling his knees. Telling the rest of the losers about how Eddie stole sugar. Sweet little Eddie, who he knew was always quietly paying attention.]
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Eddie smiles back at Richie, his eyes brighter than before. He was relieved, and a part of him wanted to reach out to Richie and just cling to him. He was still feeling a little emotional about dying, maybe, but he didn't want to lose sight of Richie anytime soon.)
Except now we have bad joints.
(A little sad, but better them together than not at all.
He bats his eyes doefully at Richie, doing his very best impersonation of Bambi. Not that he had to try too hard. He had always had one of those faces.)
I've never lied a day in my life. (Offended by the very idea. Only he's grinning a moment later and gently poking Richie in the side just under the table.)
I'm a great liar. You just always know what to look for. (Eddie wasn't a good liar at all. Richie was completely right. Eddie showed too much of his heart at all times. But sometimes he liked to try. He had gotten decent about it with his mother at least, and that had always been the most important lie. His joking fades as he looks at Richie, his expression suddenly tight and serious.)
We'll be okay, right? In this place?
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[Richie's head waivers on his neck, he might as well have scoliosis thanks to never growing into his body. He always felt like he should be smaller somehow, more compact, but the gangly days were long behind him and so was a lot of the puberty-based clumsiness.]
You wish. You lied more than I did. [Back in Derry especially, of course, Richie never faulted him for it. He would've done anything to get away from that helicopter mom too. Sonia took hovering parent to bold new levels and it was dark but he's glad that she died. Richie jabs Eddie with his elbow lightly on his way to get a drink, and it's purposeful enough that it gets his message out loud and clear.] Of course. I promise you we'll make this work. No matter what it takes.