revivalproject | From the sewers to a space ship

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From the sewers to a space ship

WHO: Eddie Kaspbrak and YOU
WHERE: Bishop, then open
WHAT: OMFG WHERE THE FUCK AM I?!
WHEN: Now? When the fuck is now even?
WARNINGS: Language, mostly. Possible canon talk

Bishop

There's a man in one of the bunks who was absolutely not there before. He looks (and smells) like he just rolled out of the sewers. His jeans, t-shirt and hoodie are covered in an array of multicolored substances. His left cheek is bandaged in a very soiled gauze patch. Needless to say... He looks worse for wear.

He sits bolt upright with a terrified gasp. "Richie!" His eyes wide with fright, he looks around. "Whaaaaat the fuck?" Inexplicably, he knows where he is and what he's doing there, but that doesn't make him feel any better. He was in the cavern, saving Richie and something... Something was wrong. He makes a face as he reached back to scratch a weird itch in the middle of his back. Alright. He's not going to get any answers sitting in bed.

He gets up and moves to the door, peeking out. It's going to take him a while to find the way out of the ship, especially considering the tightness in his chest. He wasn't claustrophobic usually, but he had to get some air. He can be found wandering aimlessly around the ship, looking confused and slightly panicked.

Outside the ship

When he finally stumbles outside, he takes a few deep breaths. "Ohthankfuck." Leaning forward, he braces his hands on his legs and tries to get his breathing back to normal. Once he feels sufficiently calm, he takes a deep breath and straightens.

Then he sees his first alien and that goes out the fucking window. Hello Coruscant. There's a human in the space port alternating between screaming in terror and laughing awkwardly as he tries to figure out if he's really hallucinating and having an anneurism at the same time.

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Even with him covered in sewage, Richie is desperate to have contact with Eddie. The guy's back from the fucking grave and seeing him smile and tease back is like balm on gaping wound. He'll never get enough.

"I can't wait for the fashion show. Do you think you can make Bev proud?"

"Oh maaaaan." Eddie shook his head, grinning at the thought of the fairest of all the Losers. "Could you imagine Bev here? She'd lose her fucking mind over some of the clothes. Fuck, I think everyone'd find something to like about this place. Hey, maybe there's a comedy club. You could steal some alien jokes." He gently shoved Richie's shoulder with a laugh.

Richie shoved Eddie right back and beamed at him. "Fuck that, man. I don't need to steal jokes anymore. I don't know why I was doing that in the first place. Nah, I am going to go back to talking about what I know:

"Your mom."

Eddie didn't even care that the aliens were looking at them with disdain as they fucked around like stupid teenagers in the street. He pointed a finger at Richie, "Fuck you, dude."

Tilting his head, he shrugged, "I mean, it's like I was telling your sister the other night..." He trailed off, giving Richie a pointed look. Two could play that game.

"Ooooh! Fuck you, man. My sister has better taste than that." He swung an arm around Eddie's neck and yanked him in, other hand giving him a noogie. Of course the whole time he was laughing, tickled by this familiar fight.

"Besides, you wouldn't know what to do with her. That girl would destroy you and that's no way to lose your virginity."

"Hey!" Eddie flailed, nearly dropping his bag as he tried to extract himself from Richie's grip. "Shut the fuck up, asshole. Besides, if I wanted to be destroyed I'd just fuck your mom again."

"Get your own material, leech."

The hotel is close and Richie grabs Eddie's elbow to unnecessarily guide him the rest of the short distance. "And, really, you're in like. A fucking glass house right now when it comes to fucking mothers. I got to see Myra, dude. That is like...Freud's whole dissertation in one relationship. I'll let you blame the clown for that but...seriously. Glass house. Crystal glass house. Shouldn't even kick up some gravel in there..."

"Pot, kettle?"

Eddie nudges Richie. It's a little weird for Richie to be holding his arm, but he's not going to stop him. It's just good to have him close by.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck off talking about Myra. I'm guessing my marriage doesn't even matter any more."

Richie snorts loudly. "Okay. I set you up for that one but still. Touché."

At the mention of Myra, Richie's good mood fades though. He's only about a month past Eddie's death and the meeting with his widow is something that came to him often. Richie is quiet as they get into the hotel and move toward the lift that will bring them to their room. Only on the lift does he speak.

"She. Uh. Yeah, no. She was pretty pissed at all of us and you for kicking it. Back home you're legally dead so the marriage is pretty dead alongside it. Yay?"

Thank you, thank you. He'll be here all night.

Well that definitely brought things down. Eddie swallows, silent for a moment as that sinks in. "So you, uh... met her... I guess... I guess it's good that you guys told her." He clears his throat. Right. That's that, then. "But yeah, I guess you're right. There's no point in thinking about that any more."

As always, Richie sees 'the line' after it's well behind him and the option to not cross it is laughably impossible. His smile fades alongside Eddie's and he is silent the rest of the lift ride, mind spinning on how to fix what he's broken.

"I mean. She...uh. She seemed... Uh. She seemed to care about you a lot. So that was nice."

He walks toward the room and pushes it open, still shifting awkwardly as though the current mood was some physical ailment of his.

"But hey! Bachelor again, right? Time to go and party! Sow those wild seeds! I assume they're organic and non-GMO."

Yeah... This is awkward. Like. Really awkward. Why is it so awkward? Eddie spends much of the ride trying to figure out why he feels so weird talking about this with Richie.

He elects to let the comment about her caring about him slip on by. Instead, he smirks and shakes his head at Richie as he follows him into the room. "Richie... At what point in my life could you imagine my 'seeds' ever being 'wild'?"

Richie bursts out laughing because, yeah. Touche. "Means you gotta catch up, right?" In the room Richie flops onto a bed and kicks his shoes off. He's forty, after all. Nap time sounds like a good plan while Eddie showers.

"Okay. Get that filth off. Once you're all squeaky clean I got some shit for your face that I can put on and fix you up with. Hopefully you keep that mark as a scar though. Get all the chicks."

Oooohhhh fuck, man, a nap sounds so fucking good. But first, a shower. He gives that bed a slightly wishful look before nodding. "Yeah, sure. Because a scar will magically make me more attractive to anyone." He snorts before heading into the shower. Seriously, he never understood that. All a scar meant was you were hurt and healed. How did that make someone more attractive?

It certainly gave him something to think about as he tried to figure out how to work the shower. Eventually he figured it out and was able to blessedly wash all of the sewer crap and blood. His face stung like a bitch but he was clean damnit!

Clean, dry, and dressed in dark gray pants and lighter gray tunic, he stepped back into the room. There was a belt, vest, and boots to go along with the outfit but he tossed those on a chair to be dealt with later. "Fuck it's good to be clean again."

Eddie all cleaned up and dressed in that dark grey outfit is doing things to Richie. He sits up as the door opens and isn't quite sure he's hiding the way his mouth goes slack into a small 'o' and his eyes widen. When Eddie had been covered in gunk it had been easier to compartmentalize the guy he'd been terrified and protective of in the sewers with the guy who he'd been teasing and desperate for the attention of, before that. Now, the distinction is gone.

It takes a moment to coach his face into something other than 'stunned adoration' and even then he's probably looking a little too stricken to be normal. Time to excuse it with a joke.

"Holy shit. Man. All that crap around here was just your face. That sucks. Maybe someone here can just. You know. Fix all that ugliness."

He smiles and winks at Eddie to offset his irritation at being teased and pats the bed.

"Okay. My turn to be doctor. Sit on down, Dr. K. Dr. T is going to patch that cheek right up. I promise to not even stitch my initials on it. Where people can see, anyway."

What's with the face, trashmouth? Eddie raises an eyebrow in confusion.

Confusion which is then knocked askew by jackassery. He rolls his eyes, making a face as he walks over. "You're one to talk, asshole. You could rent your forehead for advertising."

Sitting next to Richie, he gives him a side-eyed look. For all his bluster, he trusts Richie to take care of him and not fuck it up.

Richie smiles as Eddie sits down. It's impossible for it to not be fond. Eddie is just too...Eddie. It made no sense and yet all the sense and Richie would never be immune to it.

"C'mere, oh Hole-y one."

He takes out some antiseptic wipes and gently starts cleaning the wound up. His attention is more focused than it probably had ever been in his life. It's the only way he can ignore the feel of Eddie so close to him. The fact that he's holding his face and close enough to just...

Okay. No more of that train of thought.

"You sure you wanna close this up? Imagine how cool it would be to smoke through your cheek or whatever...."

"Oh ha. Ha." The laugh is sarcastic but he can't help but smile. Richie being here and being, well, himself, is more of a balm than whatever is being wiped on his face. Of all of the Losers, he always counted Richie as his best friend. They'd been together through thick and thin. He'd always been the closest to this asshole. He never really knew why, nor did he ever try to figure it out. It just was.

"Dude, do you have any idea how fucking disgusting that idea is? Even ignoring the fact that I don't and would never smoke." Aside from being pressured into trying one of Bev's cigarettes once... He'd nearly coughed himself unconscious that time. "It would get all yellow and black from the tar and other toxic shit in those things. Not to mention that food and shit would just fall out of it all the time. God I feel nauseous just thinking about it."

"You nerd. It would be awesome. You just need to use your imagination. The magic tricks you could pull on kids! That would be hilarious!"

Richie grins and turns Eddie's head by the chin so he can make sure the area is sterilized and looking a bit less infected. Next comes the patch. Richie opens it and presses it onto the wound experimentally, waiting for it to stick.

"Beej said that this will heal it up in a day or so. In the meantime it will at least protect it in case you go sewer swimming again."

He presses the sides with the tips of his fingers, making sure it's secure. Yep. That. Definitely not to keep touching Eddie. Never that.

His voice unintentionally goes soft.

"But don't. Okay? Just. Don't. No more sewers. No more impalement. Just... Just try really hard to be less of a pincushion, okay?"

"Oh yeah, because that's what I want to be known for here."

For fuck's sake, Richie. Is he sowing wild oats or a birthday party magician? Make up your mind!

"Beej?" He doesn't think he's met anyone with that name, yet. Richie's hand is so soft. So caring. It's almost strange... And yet, not.

Impaled? Fuck... Was that... Was that how he? He swallows hard past the lump in his throat. Shit. He really was... Is... Fuck... Looking down, he nods in agreement, not trusting his voice.

"Hey. Eds," he cups Eddie's face now, forcing him to look at him. Luckily the only thing that can get past his stupid crush is his need to look after Eddie. Him looking so pale and terrified is just the ticket for that.

"Look at me, okay? Whatever happened back there is back in Derry. For all we know, you and I are actually from like... I don't know. A parallel universe where the only difference is you leaning over an inch and surviving. Which, yeah. Sign me up for that place, first, but either way... You're here now. You're here and safe and Pennywise can't touch you. Nothing can.

"They'd have to get through me and have you seen all this? C'mon. I'm like the side of a building. A fat, borderline alcoholic building. So you're good."

Whoa. Sudden tender moment he wasn't ready for. Eddie's eyes widen slightly as Richie gets uncharacteristically serious.

He meets Richie's gaze, his eyes wide and worried. From this close, there's no mistaking the emotional weight of Richie's words. He's right. This is a chance for a fresh start. A weird as fuck chance, but still. He's alive. His heart is beating (weirdly fast but let's not think about that) and he's breathing and he can feel Richie's hand warm on his cheek.

"Thanks, Rich." He smiles a little and nods. One hand comes up to touch Richie's cheek, mirroring the hand on his own. "Same goes for you, you know. We've always looked out for each other."

Richie's whole body shivers at the touch and it's really not fair that Eddie has this much control over him after all this time. He's forty years old and has his heart racing out of his chest like he's still thirteen and focusing way too hard on where Eddie's leg is next to his on the couch. Just like then, all he can think about is how badly he wants to just lean in and kiss him. Touch him. Even just holding his hand feels forbidden and enticing.

Forty years old and he's getting all excited about holding hands. Someone needs to just put him down.

"You kidding? You're like the poster boy for DILFs. There's no way you're a building unless it's like... I don't know. The wall in a gym." But he's still smiling and understands what Eddie really meant.

"But yeah. Thanks, Eds. Losers stick together, right?"

Eddie briefly presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes. The whole thing seems so intimate... And yet it isn't weird. Huh.

He shoves that thought out of his head as he draws back, scoffing a laugh. "Come on, man. I'm definitely not DILF material. That would be Ben."

But he smirks, giving Richie a look. "We do. But we stuck together even before the Losers."

"Ben is a god. You can't compare him to us mere mortals."

He isn't really paying attention to what he's saying, though. Richie is more focused on the feeling of Eddie's forehead against his own as he closes his eyes and just breathes in. The man he loved, lost, found, loved, and lost again was here. Part of Richie screams that he should be braver and not let the moment here pass but the rest of him is still a fucking coward. At least he doesn't pull away until Eddie does.

Progress.

"Yeah. Yeah, we did. And we will from now on. Missing you.... Missing you sucked, Eds. Really sucked. And I hate to break it to you, but the other Losers are insensitive dicks. You should hear what they all did after you kicked it. Bev and Ben still are buying me drinks to make up for it."

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