𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬|𝐞 & 𝐫

The two were now completely alone in a poorly lit closet.

Eddie didn't know if he should lock the door. He stared at the lock for a moment, then turned to directly face Richie.

"So, how're you holding up?" Richie said, looking into the boys brown eyes, which sparkled with the honey-like coating poured atop of them. Richie melted even looking at him. It felt painful, but in a good way. He felt full, despite being only fed crumbs of his love, and having to beg even for those.

"I feel alright, I guess." Eddie said, seeming to be in his own little world of thoughts. "Considering everything." He finished.

He sighed, looking back up into Richie's eyes.

Hmm. He thought to himself. Just that singular thought. He wondered how long this would go on, seeing as it had only been forty seconds that they'd been in the confining space together.

Eddie did want something. He wanted something from Richie. A reaction, just anything. He felt angry -he didn't know why. Something was boiling inside of him - he couldn't analyze if the feeling was intrinsically negative. He savoured the private feeling of just he and Richie being alone, as they had been before. But this time, there was no escape. Not that he wanted to, he was just...

Thinking.

He wanted to stop, though. Too many people oftentimes missed out on good opportunities by thinking. He didn't want to be that person, not anymore.

Before he could say anything, Richie asked a question.

"What did you mean out there?" Richie said, letting out this question he'd been pondering ever since their conversation out on the porch.

"Do you hate me?" Richie asked. He had a bit of a smile to soothe the tension - he didn't want Eddie to feel as if he were being confronted. But he was, in a sense. Richie had too many questions, and they couldn't be answered merely by words.

Eddie scoffed a bit. "Really?" He asked, in a bit of disbelief.

Richie didn't understand why this would be an odd question to ask - the two had been fighting ever since they first reunited, and it'd be an easy answer just for them to hate one another. Deep down, he knew that simply just wasn't the case.

Richie didn't believe attraction, love, whatever it was, was as simple as people said it was. It's not just "if you know, then you know". It's staying up late at night, wondering if you'll even talk to each other the next day. It's writing notes to each other then discarding them because you think they won't feel the same way back. It's looking at each other and getting a sick, knot in your stomach that tries to tell you something but perverts the message in delivery. It's sitting in silence together on a two hour car ride with The Cure playing in the background, and the two of you wondering if you'll ever feel love in the same way Just Like Heaven describes, and wondering if you already are feeling it.

To avoid convolution, things aren't spelt out as simply as they are in the dogma of schmaltz. Life is difficult, and love is an extension of that.

"I don't think that I do. I think I'm just confused on the difference." Eddie said.

His statement didn't quite make sense.

"Between?" Richie asked, lowering his voice a bit.

"I think you know," Eddie said, after a few seconds.

Love and hate. Maybe they're more similar than we'd like to give them credit for.

They both immediately dropped eye contact with the tension, and Richie's eyes flashed for a second.

Richie nodded.

"Well, I think you know how I feel." Richie replied, breaking the seconds of silence.

"I really don't." Eddie said, tilting his head.

"I can't talk about it." Richie said, smiling a little.

Eddie's shoulders dropped a bit and he smiled.

Eddie's face was hot, and he knew he was blushing.

"I could have said something earlier though. Maybe you'd like what I had to say." Richie said. He didn't know exactly where his words were coming from, but he couldn't help himself. "Maybe you'd think I was crazy." He said, laughing a little.

Eddie focused on his facial features. He couldn't help but analyze Richie time and time again. It was addicting. A fixation, almost. He wanted to know what he was thinking. All that he had to say.

"You should be loved by me." Richie blurted out.

This caught Eddie off guard.

"You'd really be surprised."

Eddie was at a loss for words.

"I should." Eddie replied back, sure in his words.

"Fuck." Eddie said, under his breath. "What are you doing to me, Richie?" He said, laughing quietly.

They stared at each other with obfuscated glares.

"What are we doing here?" Richie said, looking around. Another confusing question. He was clearly drunk on his own words, but Eddie was too.

"Richie." Eddie said quietly, yet brashly, snapping him back into the moment.

They looked back at each other.

"Can I..." Richie said weakly. "Can I kiss you?" He said again, in a more firm voice, but nearly down to a whisper.

"The fuck?" Eddie said, in an annoyed tone. "Don't ask." He said, even quieter.

Richie stood there.

"Seven minutes are up," Bill shouted, his voice muffled by the thickness of the door, accompanied by a knock.

Eddie turned around with the noise.

Before he could turn back, Richie grabbed Eddie's neck gently, pushing past his soft, velvety hair and pulled into a kiss. Eddie leaned back against the door, locking it.

Eddie took off his own shirt.

"Are we doing this?" Richie asked, mouthing it, almost.

Eddie nodded. "I think we are."

"You're sure?"

"Please, Richie."

Richie stifled a smile. "Lights off."

Eddie turned the lights off in response, noticing how this was the second time Richie had said this.

It was pitch black. Just the two of them, as it always was intended to be.