Through Laughter And Bruised Hearts

Breaking down the walls

The quiet of Eddie's living room was interrupted only by the faint ticking of a clock on the wall. Richie shifted in his seat, feeling the weight of Eddie's eyes on him, his pulse racing under that sharp, guarded gaze. It felt as though he were eighteen again, sitting on Eddie’s porch, wondering if he’d ever get the courage to tell him what he really felt. Only now, the stakes felt even higher.

“So, you’re just… back?” Eddie asked, his tone tinged with disbelief. “You think you can waltz in after all these years and pretend nothing’s changed?”

Richie winced. “Look, Eddie, I didn’t come here to stir things up. I just—well, I needed to see you.”

Eddie scoffed, but there was a flicker of something softer in his expression. “Needed to see me? Since when do you need anything, Richie?”

Richie clenched his fists, fighting the urge to snap back. Eddie wasn’t wrong, but he’d been so busy trying to keep his feelings buried that he’d never stopped to think about what he actually needed. What he wanted. And right now, all he wanted was Eddie.

“I don’t expect you to just forgive me, Eds,” Richie said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m here. I want to try, even if it’s a lost cause.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched, his fingers gripping the edge of his coffee mug tightly. “You always think you can joke your way out of everything, but some things aren’t funny, Richie.”

Richie let out a shaky laugh. “I know. I know I messed up, okay? But that’s all I do, isn’t it? Mess things up.”

For a moment, Eddie’s face softened, and Richie saw a glimpse of the Eddie he’d known, the one who’d always been there, even when Richie had run. But Eddie’s guard was back up in an instant, the vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

“You’re just lucky I still put up with you,” Eddie muttered, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

Richie leaned back, relief flooding through him. “So… does that mean you’re gonna let me crash here tonight?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but Richie could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. But no funny business, Tozier. You’re sleeping on the couch.”

Richie’s grin was lopsided. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They stayed up long after that, sharing quiet stories of what their lives had become, the hardships and the moments that still made them laugh. Slowly, Richie felt the tension ease, as if some of the walls they’d both put up were finally starting to come down. And when they finally drifted off to sleep, Richie knew he was exactly where he needed to be.