revivalproject | To talk or not to talk

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To talk or not to talk

WHO: Eddie and You
WHERE: Various places
WHAT: Post Hero City stuff
WHEN: Mid June
WARNINGS: Language and awkward conversations.

Eddie has had a rough month. When he found himself in the waiting room staring at everyone else as the memories flooded back into his mind, he wanted to find a corner and die. He'd turned into a bad guy. He'd hurt people... he couldn't meet anyone's eyes. As soon as the doors open, he fled. He went straight to the apartment he'd been staying in and just... stayed there. But he couldn't stay there forever.

Closed to Richie

Eddie had been worried about Richie. After what they'd been through, they should at least talk! So he tried to track down his friend. That... wasn't as easy as he expected. He'd find Richie somewhere. "Hey, Rich, do you have a..." Richie would scramble away while yelling some excuse about being needed somewhere. That happened several times before Eddie put two and two together and realized his friend was dodging him.

Son of a bitch...

He kept trying. "Hey, man, can we... no?..." "Dude, what's up, are you... okay... bye..." It was getting old.

At some point he had to catch the asshole. He spotted him and walked over, waving. "Richie! Hold up a second, please."

Deep End

He's not going to go on the network and beg for forgiveness. That's lame and he'd just rather move on with his life and pretend nothing happened. Except it did happen. He had memories from two different lives in his head and that was a lot to deal with. Taking a page out of Richie's book, he decided to drink. So he can be found at the Deep End pretty frequently, nursing a drink and trying to forget the monster he'd been.

Wildcard

Want to do something else? Go for it! He can be found around the city, so feel free to find him anywhere. Hit me up at

eternalferret or Discord at SupahFerret#0368 if you want to plot.

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Richie wasn't avoiding Eddie. He wasn't. He was just...very conveniently busy whenever Eddie happened to be around. That was it. And it had nothing to do with what happened in the Bizarro World they'd been in where Richie had fucking flirted with Eddie and asked him on a date like a fucking moron. Nope. Nothing. He just really had to be somewhere else.

Okay, it sounded lame even to him. But what the fuck else could he do? He'd made a fool out of himself and just thrown himself at Eddie as though...as though that was just something he could do. And sure Eddie had responded back, but that was definitely part of the spell, right? Of course it was. And now Eddie probably wanted to talk about it and how it hadn't meant anything and Richie would smile and laugh it off and say it didn't mean anything to him either. But fuck. He couldn't do it yet.

So he ran.

And he kept running.

Until, it seemed, now. Richie heard Eddie's voice and forced on a smile even as his eyes were round with fear. Fuck, there weren't any convenient escapes where he was, here. Fuck it, he'd climb a wall if he had to.

"Hey! Uh, yeah! Sure! But, uh. Maybe in like a half hour? I need to get to...um. Uh. The Deep End. Yeah. Cayde needs help with all the people drowning themselves so...yeah. See ya!"

Fool him once...

He'd been stood up once already and it wasn't going to happen again. He was tired of chasing his asshole around. Eddie shook his head. "Nope. Not this time. Cayde can wait. I'm not letting you blow me off again. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Richie froze like the deer in headlights he was. His mouth opened for a second, nothing coming out at first. But then his old defense mechanism of 'be an asshole' came to the rescue, apparently, and Trashmouth rose to spotlight.

"What the fuck is wrong with me? Dude. What could possibly be wrong with me? I just spent a month thinking I was some sort of mute weirdo while everyone else got to fly or shoot lightning or whatever. Not to mention all the weird shit that happened in there on top of the comic book fuckery. And now you're like...I don't know. Chasing me down with those Bambi eyes when the reasonable thing would be to just get drunk and forget the whole bullshit."

He was running out of steam fast and just crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging.

"But yeah. No. Nothing's wrong with me."

Eddie crosses his arms while Richie rants. He's seen this show before and knows it's best to let Richie blow off steam instead of interrupting him.

"Are you finished?" Right, it seemed like he was finished. "This. This is what I mean. My best friend has been fucking dodging me since we got back when you should be, I don't know, making up for lost time and talking my ear off or some shit. Before that fucking happened, you were constantly around, now I can't get you to stand still for two fucking seconds to talk to me. So you wanna try again? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Damn it. Okay. That hadn't worked the way he'd hoped. Without that escape, Richie was floundering to figure out how to evade the real topic here. He blinked, his facade crumbling each time as he realized options were dwindling. He couldn't pretend it was nothing. He couldn't double-down on just needing space. There wasn't much left except the truth.

Fuck. He was going to throw up.

No. No. Okay. He could do this. All a matter of spin, right? But how the fuck did someone spin what happened last month? And why the fuck was he the only one apparently freaked by it? Seriously.

"Why are wanting to even be around me, after what happened?" He hadn't meant to say the question in his mind aloud, but there it was. His cheeks flushed and he clarified:

"I mean. Do you...not remember? Or are you just forgetting the whole thing?"

There. At least now they could talk.

He sighed, looking away. "I remember all of it. Most of it as super fucking shitty. For fuck's sake, Richie, I hurt people. I almost destroyed a building" He scrubbed a hand over his face. "I fought friends... There's a lot of shit I'd rather forget." It wasn't every day you went evil and attacked people...

"But... but it wasn't all bad." He looked up at Richie. "There were some parts that were really great. Why would I want to forget those?"

Richie was speechless. His jaw clenched shut as his eyes widened to fucking planets. What was Eddie saying here? What could have been great? Not him, surely. Right? It couldn't be.

Richie wiped his leaking palms on his jeans

"What? Like.... All those free drinks?" It was the closest he could come to talking about it. "Hate to break it to you, but you sold yourself short in that 'gay-for-pay' ploy. Coulda gotten free dinner, too."

Eddie snorts, shaking his head. "It wasn't just that, asshole. I..."

All of his courage melts away and his voice dies. He doesn't know what to do with his hands and ends up gesturing randomly as he continues. "I mean... It was... I felt..." Taking a breath, he swallowed and forced the words out. "Okay, so I know that was all some fake thing or whatever but... Richie, I really felt happy being with you like that. Really happy. I can't just forget that."

Richie is having a heart attack. Or he's dreaming. Or he's maybe losing his mind in that real fun way that comes with hallucinations. Either way, this can't be real. Eddie couldn't have just said what he did. Or, if he did, it still has to be about something else. He has to be talking about something else. Richie doesn't even blink and needs to swallow five times to get enough moisture in his mouth to speak.

"I...Uh. Are you...that desperate to be flirted with that you'll take it from anyone?"

He means it as a joke but he can't entirely get the stunned look off his face.

See, here he is trying to have an honest conversation with Richie, and he's calling him desperate. He looks fucking petrified, to boot. He sighs, shaking his head.

"This was a mistake. Forget it..." Raking his fingers through his hair, he turns to leave."

Fuck.

"Wait." He reaches for Eddie's arm and grabs his wrist before he can move too far away. Touching him right now seems like a privilege he is stealing, somehow. Still, he can't let go. He can't take the risk of Eddie walking away and taking whatever he actually meant with him.

"Wait. Please. I'm..." He looks down and swallows. "This is hard for me. Okay? There's...shit I haven't told you and... This is just hard for me. But I'll try to keep Trashmouth in his cage, okay?"

Eddie stops, turning back to look at Richie. The fact that he stopped him at all means a lot. It means that there's more to this than just Richie being a douchebag. He doesn't move to pull his hand back. That connection seems important, somehow. Like that electric shock he felt when they held hands in the other world.

He nods. "Okay. Richie... what haven't you told me? I thought I knew everything about you."

The words are stuck on the tip of his tongue. He looks into Eddie's giant, gorgeous eyes and can feel his secrets rise up into his throat. He can feel the penknife in his hand as he carves their initials into the kissing bridge. He can remember the gaping, never-ending sorrow that gripped him when he knew Eddie was gone. The man he loved was gone. And now he is back and here and he is a coward because it didn't make a difference.

He needs it to make a difference. He needs this to be the moment when Eddie knows what he means to him. So he opens his mouth, the words there, ready to come out.

"I fucked your dad," he says instead.

Fuck. Fucking Fuck.

"That's...shit. I mean. Fuck. I mean... I never wanted your mom, okay? I didn't want anyone's mom. And the shit in my act was written for me because I never wanted a girlfriend either." He's really, really bad at this but at least there is some honesty in the middle of his manic, incomprehensible attempt at coming out.

"I'll never want a girlfriend either. Alright? Like. I fucked your dad. Get it?"

Eddie almost rolls his eyes and fucks off when Richie comes out with that crack. But then he starts stumbling over his words and it's obvious that this is important. This is something he's been holding onto because he hadn't known how to say it.

He looks at Richie with concern, "Richie... are you trying to tell me that you're gay?" There's no judgement in his tone, he just wants to make sure he's understanding him correctly.

His stomach rolls so violently that he actually has to close his eyes against the nausea and breathe through his nose. There it is. Eddie knows. He said the word out loud. It's out there and he knows and Pennywise can fuck off with his 'dirty secret' nonsense.

But he still might throw up. Richie has to concentrate pretty hard to make sure that doesn't happen right there on Eddie's shoes as he slowly nods. His eyes are still closed.

"Yeah. Yeah, Eds. I'm gay."

Holy fuck, Richie really was terrified to tell him. Okay, maybe when they were kids it might have been a different story and his fear would have been valid. But now? For fuck's sake, he's not some asshole hick from Maine.

"Richie..." Eddie shakes his hand, trying to get him to open his eyes and look at him. "Richie, this doesn't change a fucking thing. You're still the same asshole Trashmouth." He pauses, blinking at him. "Is this... is this why you've been avoiding me?"

His eyes do open and they're red-ringed, wide, and completely terrified. Still, there is a certain amount of relief that crosses his face when Eddie starts saying it was alright. It fades at the end, though. He knows there's more he needs to say and he really will throw up if he tries to get that out.

"I mean. Kind of?" Not a lie. "In that world... I guess Billy took away my hang-ups? Or whatever it is that Pennywise taunted me with to make it seem so fucking scary? And then what do I do? I start fucking hitting on you and the spell makes you forget that you're not even into dudes, I guess. But like. I don't know? I didn't want to have to face it or deal with you being uncomfortable?"

His gaze drops again.

"I didn't want that to fuck up our friendship. I can't... Losing you again would kill me, Eds. It really would."

There's the crux of it. That's what Eddie was really wondering about. He wanted to know if Richie really cared about him like that... or if that was all just part of the illusion. They did click really well really fast... there had to be some reason for that, didn't there?

He thinks for a moment. "Honestly... I never thought about it. Growing up with my Ma, do you think I could have ever even thought about doing anything other than marrying a woman?" Pausing, he sighs, "Honestly, after what happened in that world... I'm not so sure anymore."

His eyes snap up and holds, mouth falling open.

"What?"

His heart thunders so loud in his ears that he can't even hear his own voice as he talks. He's pretty sure he's on the verge of complete cardiac failure but what a way to go!

"What do you mean by that?"

Eddie's face flushes. Shit... talking was his idea. Why does he suddenly feel like running away?! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

"Um... I mean..." His mouth is suddenly as dry as the Sahara. He swallows, trying not to sound like a fucking stupid teenager. "I mean... maybe I'm not as straight as I thought I was..." Wow, lame. "I... I really was happy being with you like that in the other world. I know that wasn't really us... but still... it made me think."

Eddie is taking all the risk, here. Richie knows already that he can't just come out and tell the other man about his lifetime of love (or...you know. Childhood and then a few days). But he can at least make sure Eddie isn't sticking his neck out all by himself and waiting to see what happens. Even if he is absolutely going to die right after.

"I... I was happy, too." He smiles a little, cheeks already red.

"I fucking hated not being able to talk but...I liked the rest of it. I was really, really happy. I haven't felt like that in a long ass time.

"Part of me kinda misses it."

There is a fuck ton of risk. Eddie knows it. He's risking losing his best friend... but something in him just can't let it go. It was the one fucking good thing of the whole experience and he can't just let it go.

He returns that smile, "Yeah, right? You not being able to talk. Musta been torture. You did pretty well with those napkins and your notebook, though."

He pauses for a moment, looking down. He has to be honest. He has to... Looking back up at Richie, he nods. "Me, too. On both counts."

Richie doesnt know what to say. His breathing is shallow and he feels sick from nerves but he also feels maybe the best he's ever been in his life.

"I'm an ex-cocaine addict," he says apropos of nothing before mentally cursing his lack of a filter. "I mean. That's something else I haven't told you. But. Uh. I used because it made me feel really good. Well, it made me feel something which was better than... Yeah."

He pulls Eddie's hand up by the wrist so he can press the man's palm to his racing heart. He hopes that can say the words he can't manage to get out.

"This is way, way better, Eds. Can I call you Kaspcaine?"

Eddie's eyebrows shoot up. That... Wasn't something he expected. But at least he's a former addict. But his next words are way more important than that little tidbit. He can't help but smile. When his hand is pressed against Richie's chest, his breath rushes out of his lungs in a sigh. It feels so intimate, something so unlike anything they'd ever done before. Truthfully, it's something unlike anything he'd ever done with anyone before. Even he and Myra hadn't been that intimate... Not really.

He smiles, "Not a chance. But this is definitely better than any drugs I've ever tried, too." Though his were legal.

Richie smiles, hope rushing through his veins. His head is floating away, light and buzzing. Might be because he can't get a full inhale of oxygen, but whatever. Who needs air? Air is stupid.

"So. Uh... What are we thinking, going forward? Is this... We keep flirting? Or... I mean. I think I owe you a date, maybe? Unless you wanna play the field a little, baby-gay. Or baby-bi. Whatever."

His thumb brushes over Eddie's pulse.

"What do you want?"

There was the $64,000 question. Eddie thinks about it for a moment. Then he wonders why he's even thinking about it. He's never thought of another guy this way. It's less about being with anotber guy and more about the fact that it's Richie. Richie knows him better than anyone. They've been close ever since they were kids, and he has no doubt they would've stayed that way had their minds not been fucked with. The tender touch just solidifies the thought in his mind.

"Richie... I don't want to play the field. How about we start with a date and see where it goes from there?"

Richie actually gives a little, half aborted hop in excitement as Eddie says that. "Really?" His face is broken in half with a grin. "Wait. Don't answer that. Don't think about it. I don't want you to change your mind. Yes! Yes, good plan. Awesome plan. You're as smart as you are tall."

He thinks about that a second and keeps blabbering on.

"Wait. No. Like that's not a dig. I call you short and you say you're not so that was, you know. Me agreeing? Kinda? To be nice? Fuck. Okay. I am bad at this. But yes. Date. A date. Which... Limited options right now but uh. Beach? Bar? Jungle adventure where I can maybe save your life from wild animals and hear you bitch about bugs? Shit. Okay. I mean. You do bitch but again, not a dig. I like it. Your bitching is cute. I mean. Fuck.

"I mentioned I'm not good at this, right?"

Eddie can't help it. He loses his shit and laughs his ass off. It's so weird to see Richie nervous, but it feels right. He's blabbering on and sounding more like himself and that's incredibly comforting. It feels like coming home.

"Beep beep, trash mouth." He's beaming, feeling happier than he has in months. Maybe years. "You're right. There aren't many options. How about you buy me a drink."

Richie loves the sound of Eddie's laugh. Even when it's at him. He giggles helplessly alongside him and shakes his head at the beep beep.

"I think I can manage that. How's tonight work for you? Or some other time?"

He thinks a moment and snorts another laugh.

"Fuck. What do I do in the meantime? Am I supposed to shake your hand and ignore you until then? This is fucking weird. I just wanna hang around my friend now that shit isn't weird... But then is this the start of the date?"

Eddie can't help but laugh along with him. Fuck, they must look like a pair of idiots. More than that, he doesn't give a shit. He's happy, and he likes seeing Richie this happy. That's what matters.

"I mean... we could start it now. Who the fuck says we can't?"

Richie is going to pull a muscle in his cheeks smiling this much. He loosens his grip on Eddie's hand and shifts his own lower, attempting to just... Hold Eddie's hand.

For a second he's reminded of pulling Eddie by the wrist in the sewers. He shakes the thought away as quick as it comes.

"Are you... Uh. I'm not exactly out and proud back home and you're a little gay-by. Is...this okay? We don't have to until you're ready. I'm not offended or anything if you wanna take PDA slow."

Eddie makes a face. "Oh Christ. A gay-by? Seriously?" But he laughs and lets Richie take his hand. It's weird... But strangely it feels right. Like when Richie took his hand at the bar at that fancy party.

"I don't know. I hadn't thought about that. But I guess it's okay. I think the only thing we'll have to worry about here is that kid saying 'I told you so.'"

"Heeeeey, it's party dude," Quill said by way of greeting as he walked into the Deep End and spotted a familiar face.

"What's good here?"

"Party dude?" Oooooh look who it is. He shakes his head, giving him a tired smirk. "Eddie. The name is Eddie. And, uh, I don't know what half this shit is but the bottle with the squiggly writing around a circle is pretty good."

"Eedddiiiieee, right! Sorry, man. I just - some people's names were actually their names, and some weren't, and some people weren't even people, so. I've been ... erring on the side of caution there."

He grabs the indicated squiggly bottle and pours himself a couple of fingers, neat. "Thanks. To your health and remaining sanity," he says before knocking it back and grabbing a stool, bringing the bottle with him.

"I'm Quill. Peter Quill, also occasionally known as Starlord, but I'm pretty sure everyone's sick of those kinda names right about now."

Eddie cringes at the way he stretched his name out. But it was no weirder than some of the shit Richie used to call him. Fuck... thinking about Richie just makes things worse. He sighs and toasts Quill before draining the rest of his glass.

"Starlord? What kinda name is that?" He shrugs, "No offense."

"The kind you get when you're a legendary outlaw that ended up saving the galaxy with a bunch of other like-minded a-holes," he grinned, toasting him back.

"You've got a hole in your glass. Lemme fix that for you." He uncorked the bottle and refilled it for him. "What put it there?"

"A legendary outlaw..." Eddie raises an eyebrow and thinks for a moment before shrugging. "I guess I can't judge. I helped kill a giant alien clown that ate children."

He nods his thanks before raising his glass and taking a sip. "You're very perceptive. I'm drinking to forget the shit that happened in that weird fucking city."

"Holy shit, no kidding? That sounds terrifying. Go you."

He clinks his glass against Eddie's. "Yeah, that was a trip and a half, right? One minute I'm flying around with my crew, then I go take a nap while Rocket takes the wheel and I'm ... selling cheap hero toys like I've lived there all my life. And then I wake up again and I'm not even back on the ship. Did you at least know you were supposed to be here?"

"Rocket?" What kind of a name is Rocket? Weird.

He shrugs, "Yeah. Though I didn't show up here, either. We were all on some alien planet." He pauses. "Some other alien planet. Like... the whole planet was one big fucking city. It was weird."

"Yeah. He's kind of a pain in the ass, but he's my pain in the ass, you know?" Quill, you have no idea how much Eddie would Know, dude.

"The whole thing? Huh. Sounds kinda like Xandar, back home. They're the center of the galactic federation, the Nova Corps, so they've kinda got this high and mighty cultural hub thing going on. It wasn't actually called Xandar, by any chance, was it? That would've been so weird."

Eddie chuckles, "Yeah, I've got one of those, too. 'cept mine's named Richie."

What the fuck is this guy on about? Sounds like one of those sci-fi movies Ben and Bill dragged them to when they were kids. He shakes his head, "Nope. It was called Coruscant."

"HA, that tracks. He does give off pretty similar vibes." He grins, taking another swig of his drink and idly watching the fish tank. ... are those grubby little three-fingered prints on the inside of the glass? Huh.

"Coruscant. Huh, never heard of it. Did you see anything cool while you were there?"

The guy's met Richie, then. He raises an eyebrow, "Ah, so you've met him." That's... well, he's glad Richie has friends. He just hopes he can get the asshole to talk to him again.

Oh, yes, but there's another subject. He grasps onto that firmly, "Yeah, there was a lot of cool shit. A shit ton of people who can move things with their minds. Holograms. A fuck ton of aliens... that... that was weird."

"Heya stranger."

The Exo's actually behind the bar one of those days, lining up emptied bottles on one end of the counter as he takes stock of what all's still left. "Need any refills? Munchies? -huh, still have this stuff?" He pauses to grab a shot glass, pouring himself a little before knocking it back.

"-okay now I remember why we still have this stuff," he shudders, shoving the bottle into back of the shelf.

Eddie gives him a nod. "Hey, Cayde." He leans on the bar, watching as he bustles about. The shot gets a laugh, "Yeah, sure. Another round for me and all my friends." He gestures to the empty bar, "But... not that stuff."

"Yeah, not that stuff," Cayde agrees, giving the rest of the bottles a once-over before pulling another out along with a fresh glass. He slides the drink on over once it's been poured.

"How're things?"

He sighs, picking up the drink and looking down into it. "Fantastic. I tried to kill my friends in another world and my best friend is avoiding me. You?"

Cayde winces at that. "Yeah, I think I can kinda see where you're coming from on that," he says, leaning an elbow over the countertop.

"Things're better. The way they should be and not...not all weird." And he's good with that. He knows he can't pretend the stuff that happened didn't, but he doesn't want to dwell on it either.

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To talk or not to talk

/Richie-shaped Dust Cloud

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Deep End

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DRAAaaaaanks

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