[It's not Eddie's fault and he knows his reaction is childish and stupid but every time he looks at him, talks to him, he thinks about what he'd lost. Twice now. The fact that he was a no-good coward even now with the universe begging him to tell Eddie the truth.
Richie's been trying to fake it till he makes it and convince himself that he could survive here without being with Eddie. Twist the logic until it makes sense but he's miserable, drinking a lot, and being stupider than usual.]
Heeey, man. [He has caller ID and he loves the guy too much to forward a call.] Uh... Not great. People are dying? And I'm really close to being in trouble for quota-related reasons. How about you?
( he's expecting 'fine thanks, and you?' — which doesn't make sense because it's richie and he doesn't think he's ever exchanged polite chit chat with him before. even in that fateful jade of the orient reunion, they had more or less snapped back to their usual rhythm immediately. a little less childhood joy, a little more jaded adulthood, but still fundamentally RichieandEddie. but richie (predictably) bucks the trend and (less predictably) answers honestly, and eddie's already on the back foot. he shouldn't be this thrown by a phone call, much less one he initiated.
it had been impulsive though, at least by eddie's standards. he hasn't had time to worry through the conversation before it even started and frankly, it shows. )
I heard about that.
( he doesn't want to think about serial killers when there's already so much to be anxious about in this city, and he thinks he's grateful when richie continues except— )
Quota? ( wait. ) Oh. Um.
( it's not like anyone can avoid the topic for long in a place like this, but it'll be a long time before eddie is anything other than awkward about it. he's suddenly thankful he didn't make use of the video function, absolutely sure that his embarrassment is written all over his face. he doesn't know what would be worse, if richie made fun of him for it, or more mortifyingly, if he was kind. ) You don't have...someone that can help? With that sort of thing?
No one knows who's doing it? I thought this place had eyes and ears everywhere. They sure make it seem like it.
( on second thought maybe he'll take the serial killer anxiety, because the alternative is hyper-fixating on one specific word until it becomes a beast so big it might overtake him completely. guy?
he should ask. no he shouldn't. he should definitely ask. maybe richie just meant it the way people sometimes do, like 'hi guys' at a group of people regardless of gender. maybe he didn't. maybe eddie should just fucking ask. )
That's good you've got a– person, that there's someone that can help. You with that sort of thing. That's good.
No, they definitely do. So, make sure you're taking care of you- you got the raw deal here.
[It would've been simpler if Richie wasn't contracted already and he knew that but there's nothing he can do about that now. Eddie's on his own until the next time those names come up. It's troubling, but he can't - he's not sure he can go so far with him only to lose him again. He's not built for it.
The lie just keep piling up. Eddie doesn't know what happens. Doesn't have to deal with that and Richie doesn't have the heart to tell him. It's a whole lot easier at this point to be candid about Duplicity.]
I just don't think they care. Like- death isn't permanent. Illness doesn't exist. It'd be a damn oasis if it weren't for the kink-government.
What about you? Need me to hold your hand while you speed-date to find a good Dom? I can wing-man. [No he cannot. All bluster, no follow-through. Don't at him.]
it's not like eddie isn't already on the path to accepting that he doesn't really have a list of ailments as long as his arm, the problem is that whole journey was cut off before it even got to the good part. conquering your fear of illness by choking out a diseased monster is one hell of a way to get past some childhood trauma, but eddie hasn't made it there yet.
so he's still clinging to his inhaler like a lifeline, and he sure as hell isn't on board to believe that all of those "problems" he's been trying to treat his whole life are just mysteriously fixed. )
What? Jesus, no, I don't want to speed date. I don't want to do any of this. ( not that there's really any other option. and there's the part where he's married, but funnily enough that hasn't become part of his protests yet. ) Do they really throw you in jail for not signing a contract?
Is it worth playing fast and loose though? Because of disbelief?
[There's a strange hitch to the words because Richie feels like he has no right to say shit about it but he wants Eddie to be okay. He wants more than anything for him to be safe.]
Relax. I'm pretty sure that speed-dating doesn't exist. Yet. I mean they have the app?
[God, this is killing him. What he would've give to just let Eddie be the dominant. He could Sub. He figured they'd be better off if the reverse had happened.]
Yeah, they can, and they have this like weird brain-washing facility called S.L.U.T. where they'll convince you to do it even if you don't want to.
I think it doesn't fucking matter because all the options are bad.
( jesus. it's not richie's fault that eddie's here, that eddie's door led to submissive, that there's killers on the loose and that's not even the worst part. he bristles and then immediately softens, and there's an apology on his tongue but he can't quite spit it out. )
A slut facility. That's on the nose. ( it's maybe more awful that it almost sounds like the preferable option. at least then it's out of his hands, eddie has always done better when someone else is making the decisions. that's just a fact.
he doesn't voice that though. he's not stupid, and he really doubts that richie would take to "i think that some more brainwashing would be great, actually" all too well. ) I don't know, man. I'll figure something out. You did, right? How hard can it be?
I mean, at least the options are yours to take? They could just tie you to a Gloryhole or something. I don't know. It's not like I'm a native. I've been here for a couple of months, but...
[It didn't get easier, Richie sighs audibly. The sound of rustling, discomfort evident in what he's not saying and the fuzzy sounds on his end of the line.]
It's their shtick. LIES? I mean, all the acronyms are double entendres. I think they're getting some sadistic pleasure out of it. Maybe they're the voyeurs and we're the rats in the incubator.
[What he did know was that life was livable. Painful now more than ever, sure, but it could be done. It was possible.]
Usually this is where I'd make the joke about it being hard being a necessity, but - that's low hanging fruit. It wasn't easy and the only reason I have Jeff for a sub is because he was the only other dude in his forties that was city-bound at the time and I needed to put my name on a piece of paper.
It all seems like it's about sadistic pleasure to me. It's fucked up.
( there's a stutter to the natural flow of conversation that just reeks of people not speaking the truth, or at least their whole truth, and not for the first time eddie wonders if it was always like this. memories of derry come back in drips and it's mostly the extremes – screaming in the ground at neibolt and being absolutely certain that he was about to die, laughing in the quarry so hard he snorted water and almost made himself sick – but he doesn't remember biting his tongue quite so much, and he's sure richie never had a thought he didn't immediately voice out loud.
maybe it's just part of no longer being a kid. eddie doesn't exactly have many friendships to compare it to, but he's pretty sure all he does as an adult is think one thing and then resolutely not say it. still, he doesn't have to like it. )
When did you ever not reach for the low hanging fruit? ( the thought occurs to him, fresh and totally unwelcome, that if he'd been here maybe he could have contracted with richie. no sooner does he think it, eddie's stamping it down with a viciousness he doesn't normally possess. he's just– really not going there right now. or ever, preferably. a nervous laugh should be enough to mask the way his mind suddenly runs wild, right? it's not like richie's a mind reader.
but richie said only other dude and it's a sticking point again. this time, eddie does ask. )
[Old habits die hard but he settles back in his chair, not even bothering to lie in bed while he swallowed this whole conversation down with a stiff drink. The sound of the ice in the glass can be heard on his end of the line and the creak of the office chair.]
It's hard to make an effective dick joke with everything about this place being one big innuendo. I always get beat to the punch. I know my target audience.
[There's no sound but he's shrugging his shoulders. The next question gives him some pause. An uncharacteristic silence on his end of the line with no witty rhetoric to fill the empty space.]
You don't have to sleep with your subs. That's lesson one on don't sign contracts you don't have to, Eds.
Subs don't have to sleep with their Doms is what I'm saying. It's a mutual thing but me and Jeff we're just mutually assured destruction. We haven't done anything.
[Why did he feel like he was in trouble right now?]
( it's a half-mumbled knee jerk more than any real desire to shut richie up. a habit he didn't remember he had until the very moment he said it.
he's not annoyed that richie has someone to help the quota situation. he's not annoyed that he has a contract. he's not even annoyed that he keeps saying guy, like this is information eddie is already supposed to know and have processed.
...he is a little annoyed about that, actually, but not enough to hold it against him. maybe he has. maybe there's some childhood confession that eddie hasn't caught up to yet in the playthrough of childhood memories he'd previously wiped out.
he's not annoyed at richie, but he is...off. irritable, maybe. bristling at things that shouldn't be issues, and just because he's aware of it doesn't mean he's any closer to stopping it. )
I know about contract law, I'm a fucking risk analyst, all I do is look at that shit.
( now it's his turn to sigh. he scrubs a hand over his face too, not that it particularly helps. he's genuinely not trying to start an argument though, especially not about this, so there's an immense amount of effort taken to make sure his voice drops softer when he keeps pressing. ) But the people– person, whatever– that helps you with your "quota". That's a guy?
[Richie doesn't respond or apologize to his request. The quiet is an aching, churning, hollowing thing that he doesn't know how to fill. He's happy when Eddie does fill that void. With talks about his dumb boring job no less.]
Wow. Yeah. Maybe you should open a business. You'd make bank. Help the less fortunate like a sexually conservative Robin Hood.
[The little guy being submissives that didn't have his attention to detail, naturally. He's about to remark on how boring the job would be when Eddie asks again, his tonal shift stopping him dead in his tracks.
Richie's quiet on the line for a really long time. He didn't think he'd have to do this again. It's as terrifying as the first and second time. It's something he's still coming to terms with now.]
No point in making bank if I'm not allowed to spend it without a chaperone.
( devastating, really. eddie likes nice things. he likes having a luxury car and designer shirts and fancy watches and rings that he never wears for fear of losing or damaging them. as far as the list of grievances about this place goes, this one is pretty low, but he hates it all the same.
as far as surprises you can learn about friends in adulthood, he imagines this probably isn't all that monumental. sometimes people are gay – he heard one in ten, once, and there's seven losers so it makes sense – but eddie's still stunned into silence at the confirmation. he should say something. richie's going to think he's homophobic, or just an asshole.
it shouldn't feel so monumental. it's not even like richie's confirmation affects eddie in the slightest – except it really, really feels like it does. )
Okay. ( jesus christ, say a little more than that. ) That's...cool. I'm glad you told me. I support you?
Find a chaperone that doesn't care. There's a lot of people here on both sides that don't like the politics.
[Richie sounds pretty tired as he regales it but only because it's the truth. He's said it a handful of times to a handful of people.
The quiet on Eddie's end of the line is haunting. He almost hangs up as a fear response but then he's talking and Richie- feels worse. Like an idiot. Maybe it was just that alternate timeline where Eddie felt the same way, and maybe he was every bit as stupid for falling for Eddie now as he had been when he was a kid.
Richie forces a sigh of relief. They could be friends here. He could be the friend he wasn't to Eddie beneath Neibolt.]
Thanks, I'm not really- I mean it's not a big deal. I'm kind of doing the hokey pokey in my closet right now so don't worry about it.
( he's speaking so quietly now, it's stupid. he's also clutching the device so tight it might just shatter in his hands, but despite the tension wound through his entire body his tone has still dropped to something much softer. gentle, even.
eddie hasn't been gentle with richie much since they were kids. there hasn't been time for it, but more than that eddie doesn't do gentle much with anyone, any more. quiet, yes, meek, more likely. but he's not soft with people. he can be, he thinks. for richie. )
You don't have to like, hide shit from me. You know that, right? I'm not– I'm not gonna judge you, or hate you, or anything. You can tell me anything.
( coming from eddie who's biting back at least twice as many words as he says it feels a bit like a cruel joke, but he says it anyway. )
[It was a big deal but not because he liked men. It was a big deal because he loved Eddie. He would've gladly died with him there when Neibolt started to collapse and the only reason he hadn't was due to Mike and Ben's efforts to haul him away.
It's always been too little too late. He owed him his life and didn't even think he could tell him that. He doesn't want to look Eddie in the eye and let him down, not for what felt like the thousandth time.]
Dude. I know you don't hate me. I knew that before I admitted it. You're my best friend. [Time didn't change that. Circumstances... they didn't change that. Eddie knew Richie at his weakest and most vulnerable and it was true for him too. That mutual trust helped them navigated and survive in Derry.]
( he wonders how long richie has known, but you can't ask people questions like that. it's invasive, personal, and richie doesn't owe him shit in the way of answers. but he wants to know all the same. he wants to know when he knew, how he knew, if he ever felt like there was something black and toxic inside of himself that would surely ruin everyone it came into contact with if eddie ever let it out–
there's a reason he can't ask more questions, and it's this. eddie doesn't know how much he'll say, if he starts talking. he's not ready for that. ) You're mine too. Best friend, I mean. Obviously. Don't tell the others, they'll be so mad.
[Growing up Richie had been immensely jealous of Eddie's relationship with Bill. It was rooted in the insecurity, the knowledge that Bill was more open and honest than he'd ever been but whenever Eddie chose to walk with Bill instead or ride on the back of his pegs instead he couldn't help but get a little envious. That was a problem for a younger Richie. Older Richie had needs that he was steadfast about repressing and that jealousy had only gotten worse over time.]
( it's all good chucks here, but it's also a very honest confession wrapped up in a thin layer of humour. more richie's style than eddie's, usually, but he can try it on for a moment. the truth of it is he'd always felt that they had this weird little orbit inside of the bigger system of the losers. not that he hadn't fallen in with bill a lot too, even more so when it was just the four of them, but at some point afternoons at the denbrough's became reading comics in the loft space with richie.
he's really close to figuring out what that might mean, but thankfully for eddie he just keeps talking right through any significant development potential. )
You'll start a civil war between if you start telling everyone you're my favourite.
[Another rib at his books but it's not like he really cares. After everything, his relationship with the other losers was strained severely. He still loves them, still cares, but everything after Neibolt was done at an arm's length. He felt alone. More than ever.
He wasn't a natural peacekeeper. Never had been. He didn't mind a little friction if it meant they knew who took priority.]
Can you say I'm your favorite one more time? I want to record that for posterity.
I don't think I'm going to be nice to you any more.
( another lie, but this one feels good. he's smiling around the words and it's probably audible. he doesn't mind so much. is it really such a bad thing, to tell richie plainly that he still thinks the world of him even after a few decades of missing time?
there's every chance the world won't end, if eddie doesn't wrap his love in barbed wire. and if it does, maybe it might be worth it. it just seems that maybe richie needs to hear these things more than eddie needs to not say them, that's all. )
Richard Wentworth Tozier, you are my favourite Loser and best friend, and if you ever use this against me I'll kill you. How about that?
[Eddie's niceties took on a different form when they were together just the two of them. He opened up, instead of bottling up and all those contents under-pressure broke free.
He's poking fun at his expense, but he winds down after finishing off his glass. Quiet on the line until he hears Ben get mentioned.
1.) He was plastered and Ben was an easy bashful target 2.) All of that the drinking, the shamelessness, and his elephant not in the room was an active distraction from his own issues. Eddie Kaspbrak, white-knuckling his glass of wine and the memories that revolved around him and him alone.]
You've always been my favorite.
[It's to the point when he says it. Matter-of-fact like he'd known it his entire life and wasn't just saying it to appeasing. Some things he couldn't play fast and loose with.]
Brazilian. Besides ol' Haystack only every had eyes for Bev.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
audio;
Richie's been trying to fake it till he makes it and convince himself that he could survive here without being with Eddie. Twist the logic until it makes sense but he's miserable, drinking a lot, and being stupider than usual.]
Heeey, man. [He has caller ID and he loves the guy too much to forward a call.] Uh... Not great. People are dying? And I'm really close to being in trouble for quota-related reasons. How about you?
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it had been impulsive though, at least by eddie's standards. he hasn't had time to worry through the conversation before it even started and frankly, it shows. )
I heard about that.
( he doesn't want to think about serial killers when there's already so much to be anxious about in this city, and he thinks he's grateful when richie continues except— )
Quota? ( wait. ) Oh. Um.
( it's not like anyone can avoid the topic for long in a place like this, but it'll be a long time before eddie is anything other than awkward about it. he's suddenly thankful he didn't make use of the video function, absolutely sure that his embarrassment is written all over his face. he doesn't know what would be worse, if richie made fun of him for it, or more mortifyingly, if he was kind. ) You don't have...someone that can help? With that sort of thing?
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[Especially for someone like him. He stayed the fuck inside. He really didn't need to give any maniac an excuse to chase him with a knife.
Hello, childhood trauma.]
Yeah, I mean yeah. I know a guy. Just - [Ha.] bitching, I guess?
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( on second thought maybe he'll take the serial killer anxiety, because the alternative is hyper-fixating on one specific word until it becomes a beast so big it might overtake him completely. guy?
he should ask. no he shouldn't. he should definitely ask. maybe richie just meant it the way people sometimes do, like 'hi guys' at a group of people regardless of gender. maybe he didn't. maybe eddie should just fucking ask. )
That's good you've got a– person, that there's someone that can help. You with that sort of thing. That's good.
( he didn't fucking ask. )
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[It would've been simpler if Richie wasn't contracted already and he knew that but there's nothing he can do about that now. Eddie's on his own until the next time those names come up. It's troubling, but he can't - he's not sure he can go so far with him only to lose him again. He's not built for it.
The lie just keep piling up. Eddie doesn't know what happens. Doesn't have to deal with that and Richie doesn't have the heart to tell him. It's a whole lot easier at this point to be candid about Duplicity.]
I just don't think they care. Like- death isn't permanent. Illness doesn't exist. It'd be a damn oasis if it weren't for the kink-government.
What about you? Need me to hold your hand while you speed-date to find a good Dom? I can wing-man. [No he cannot. All bluster, no follow-through. Don't at him.]
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( but eddie doesn't believe them.
it's not like eddie isn't already on the path to accepting that he doesn't really have a list of ailments as long as his arm, the problem is that whole journey was cut off before it even got to the good part. conquering your fear of illness by choking out a diseased monster is one hell of a way to get past some childhood trauma, but eddie hasn't made it there yet.
so he's still clinging to his inhaler like a lifeline, and he sure as hell isn't on board to believe that all of those "problems" he's been trying to treat his whole life are just mysteriously fixed. )
What? Jesus, no, I don't want to speed date. I don't want to do any of this. ( not that there's really any other option. and there's the part where he's married, but funnily enough that hasn't become part of his protests yet. ) Do they really throw you in jail for not signing a contract?
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[There's a strange hitch to the words because Richie feels like he has no right to say shit about it but he wants Eddie to be okay. He wants more than anything for him to be safe.]
Relax. I'm pretty sure that speed-dating doesn't exist. Yet. I mean they have the app?
[God, this is killing him. What he would've give to just let Eddie be the dominant. He could Sub. He figured they'd be better off if the reverse had happened.]
Yeah, they can, and they have this like weird brain-washing facility called S.L.U.T. where they'll convince you to do it even if you don't want to.
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( jesus. it's not richie's fault that eddie's here, that eddie's door led to submissive, that there's killers on the loose and that's not even the worst part. he bristles and then immediately softens, and there's an apology on his tongue but he can't quite spit it out. )
A slut facility. That's on the nose. ( it's maybe more awful that it almost sounds like the preferable option. at least then it's out of his hands, eddie has always done better when someone else is making the decisions. that's just a fact.
he doesn't voice that though. he's not stupid, and he really doubts that richie would take to "i think that some more brainwashing would be great, actually" all too well. ) I don't know, man. I'll figure something out. You did, right? How hard can it be?
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[It didn't get easier, Richie sighs audibly. The sound of rustling, discomfort evident in what he's not saying and the fuzzy sounds on his end of the line.]
It's their shtick. LIES? I mean, all the acronyms are double entendres. I think they're getting some sadistic pleasure out of it. Maybe they're the voyeurs and we're the rats in the incubator.
[What he did know was that life was livable. Painful now more than ever, sure, but it could be done. It was possible.]
Usually this is where I'd make the joke about it being hard being a necessity, but - that's low hanging fruit. It wasn't easy and the only reason I have Jeff for a sub is because he was the only other dude in his forties that was city-bound at the time and I needed to put my name on a piece of paper.
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( there's a stutter to the natural flow of conversation that just reeks of people not speaking the truth, or at least their whole truth, and not for the first time eddie wonders if it was always like this. memories of derry come back in drips and it's mostly the extremes – screaming in the ground at neibolt and being absolutely certain that he was about to die, laughing in the quarry so hard he snorted water and almost made himself sick – but he doesn't remember biting his tongue quite so much, and he's sure richie never had a thought he didn't immediately voice out loud.
maybe it's just part of no longer being a kid. eddie doesn't exactly have many friendships to compare it to, but he's pretty sure all he does as an adult is think one thing and then resolutely not say it. still, he doesn't have to like it. )
When did you ever not reach for the low hanging fruit? ( the thought occurs to him, fresh and totally unwelcome, that if he'd been here maybe he could have contracted with richie. no sooner does he think it, eddie's stamping it down with a viciousness he doesn't normally possess. he's just– really not going there right now. or ever, preferably. a nervous laugh should be enough to mask the way his mind suddenly runs wild, right? it's not like richie's a mind reader.
but richie said only other dude and it's a sticking point again. this time, eddie does ask. )
And it...had to be a guy? For you, I mean.
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[Old habits die hard but he settles back in his chair, not even bothering to lie in bed while he swallowed this whole conversation down with a stiff drink. The sound of the ice in the glass can be heard on his end of the line and the creak of the office chair.]
It's hard to make an effective dick joke with everything about this place being one big innuendo. I always get beat to the punch. I know my target audience.
[There's no sound but he's shrugging his shoulders. The next question gives him some pause. An uncharacteristic silence on his end of the line with no witty rhetoric to fill the empty space.]
You don't have to sleep with your subs. That's lesson one on don't sign contracts you don't have to, Eds.
Subs don't have to sleep with their Doms is what I'm saying. It's a mutual thing but me and Jeff we're just mutually assured destruction. We haven't done anything.
[Why did he feel like he was in trouble right now?]
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( it's a half-mumbled knee jerk more than any real desire to shut richie up. a habit he didn't remember he had until the very moment he said it.
he's not annoyed that richie has someone to help the quota situation. he's not annoyed that he has a contract. he's not even annoyed that he keeps saying guy, like this is information eddie is already supposed to know and have processed.
...he is a little annoyed about that, actually, but not enough to hold it against him. maybe he has. maybe there's some childhood confession that eddie hasn't caught up to yet in the playthrough of childhood memories he'd previously wiped out.
he's not annoyed at richie, but he is...off. irritable, maybe. bristling at things that shouldn't be issues, and just because he's aware of it doesn't mean he's any closer to stopping it. )
I know about contract law, I'm a fucking risk analyst, all I do is look at that shit.
( now it's his turn to sigh. he scrubs a hand over his face too, not that it particularly helps. he's genuinely not trying to start an argument though, especially not about this, so there's an immense amount of effort taken to make sure his voice drops softer when he keeps pressing. ) But the people– person, whatever– that helps you with your "quota". That's a guy?
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Wow. Yeah. Maybe you should open a business. You'd make bank. Help the less fortunate like a sexually conservative Robin Hood.
[The little guy being submissives that didn't have his attention to detail, naturally. He's about to remark on how boring the job would be when Eddie asks again, his tonal shift stopping him dead in his tracks.
Richie's quiet on the line for a really long time. He didn't think he'd have to do this again. It's as terrifying as the first and second time. It's something he's still coming to terms with now.]
Yeah. It's a guy.
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( devastating, really. eddie likes nice things. he likes having a luxury car and designer shirts and fancy watches and rings that he never wears for fear of losing or damaging them. as far as the list of grievances about this place goes, this one is pretty low, but he hates it all the same.
as far as surprises you can learn about friends in adulthood, he imagines this probably isn't all that monumental. sometimes people are gay – he heard one in ten, once, and there's seven losers so it makes sense – but eddie's still stunned into silence at the confirmation. he should say something. richie's going to think he's homophobic, or just an asshole.
it shouldn't feel so monumental. it's not even like richie's confirmation affects eddie in the slightest – except it really, really feels like it does. )
Okay. ( jesus christ, say a little more than that. ) That's...cool. I'm glad you told me. I support you?
( maybe say less )
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[Richie sounds pretty tired as he regales it but only because it's the truth. He's said it a handful of times to a handful of people.
The quiet on Eddie's end of the line is haunting. He almost hangs up as a fear response but then he's talking and Richie- feels worse. Like an idiot. Maybe it was just that alternate timeline where Eddie felt the same way, and maybe he was every bit as stupid for falling for Eddie now as he had been when he was a kid.
Richie forces a sigh of relief. They could be friends here. He could be the friend he wasn't to Eddie beneath Neibolt.]
Thanks, I'm not really- I mean it's not a big deal. I'm kind of doing the hokey pokey in my closet right now so don't worry about it.
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( he's speaking so quietly now, it's stupid. he's also clutching the device so tight it might just shatter in his hands, but despite the tension wound through his entire body his tone has still dropped to something much softer. gentle, even.
eddie hasn't been gentle with richie much since they were kids. there hasn't been time for it, but more than that eddie doesn't do gentle much with anyone, any more. quiet, yes, meek, more likely. but he's not soft with people. he can be, he thinks. for richie. )
You don't have to like, hide shit from me. You know that, right? I'm not– I'm not gonna judge you, or hate you, or anything. You can tell me anything.
( coming from eddie who's biting back at least twice as many words as he says it feels a bit like a cruel joke, but he says it anyway. )
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It's always been too little too late. He owed him his life and didn't even think he could tell him that. He doesn't want to look Eddie in the eye and let him down, not for what felt like the thousandth time.]
Dude. I know you don't hate me. I knew that before I admitted it. You're my best friend. [Time didn't change that. Circumstances... they didn't change that. Eddie knew Richie at his weakest and most vulnerable and it was true for him too. That mutual trust helped them navigated and survive in Derry.]
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( he wonders how long richie has known, but you can't ask people questions like that. it's invasive, personal, and richie doesn't owe him shit in the way of answers. but he wants to know all the same. he wants to know when he knew, how he knew, if he ever felt like there was something black and toxic inside of himself that would surely ruin everyone it came into contact with if eddie ever let it out–
there's a reason he can't ask more questions, and it's this. eddie doesn't know how much he'll say, if he starts talking. he's not ready for that. ) You're mine too. Best friend, I mean. Obviously. Don't tell the others, they'll be so mad.
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[Growing up Richie had been immensely jealous of Eddie's relationship with Bill. It was rooted in the insecurity, the knowledge that Bill was more open and honest than he'd ever been but whenever Eddie chose to walk with Bill instead or ride on the back of his pegs instead he couldn't help but get a little envious. That was a problem for a younger Richie. Older Richie had needs that he was steadfast about repressing and that jealousy had only gotten worse over time.]
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( it's all good chucks here, but it's also a very honest confession wrapped up in a thin layer of humour. more richie's style than eddie's, usually, but he can try it on for a moment. the truth of it is he'd always felt that they had this weird little orbit inside of the bigger system of the losers. not that he hadn't fallen in with bill a lot too, even more so when it was just the four of them, but at some point afternoons at the denbrough's became reading comics in the loft space with richie.
he's really close to figuring out what that might mean, but thankfully for eddie he just keeps talking right through any significant development potential. )
You'll start a civil war between if you start telling everyone you're my favourite.
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[Another rib at his books but it's not like he really cares. After everything, his relationship with the other losers was strained severely. He still loves them, still cares, but everything after Neibolt was done at an arm's length. He felt alone. More than ever.
He wasn't a natural peacekeeper. Never had been. He didn't mind a little friction if it meant they knew who took priority.]
Can you say I'm your favorite one more time? I want to record that for posterity.
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( another lie, but this one feels good. he's smiling around the words and it's probably audible. he doesn't mind so much. is it really such a bad thing, to tell richie plainly that he still thinks the world of him even after a few decades of missing time?
there's every chance the world won't end, if eddie doesn't wrap his love in barbed wire. and if it does, maybe it might be worth it. it just seems that maybe richie needs to hear these things more than eddie needs to not say them, that's all. )
Richard Wentworth Tozier, you are my favourite Loser and best friend, and if you ever use this against me I'll kill you. How about that?
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[His own smile has warped his words from awkward hesitation to something much more comfortable.]
That's great. I'll fix the rest in post.
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( he's very much not that, but it's fine. everyone's allowed to project the perfect version of themselves every now and then. )
Now you're supposed to say: You're my favourite too, much more than Ben even though he grew up to be a French soccer player or whatever.
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[Eddie's niceties took on a different form when they were together just the two of them. He opened up, instead of bottling up and all those contents under-pressure broke free.
He's poking fun at his expense, but he winds down after finishing off his glass. Quiet on the line until he hears Ben get mentioned.
1.) He was plastered and Ben was an easy bashful target
2.) All of that the drinking, the shamelessness, and his elephant not in the room was an active distraction from his own issues. Eddie Kaspbrak, white-knuckling his glass of wine and the memories that revolved around him and him alone.]
You've always been my favorite.
[It's to the point when he says it. Matter-of-fact like he'd known it his entire life and wasn't just saying it to appeasing. Some things he couldn't play fast and loose with.]
Brazilian. Besides ol' Haystack only every had eyes for Bev.
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