pop || reddie

vingt-trois

Warnings: drug use

Richie and Eddie are sitting in Richie's room. They've gotten a lot less afraid about cuddling or being close to one another, so Eddie is curled up on Richie's chest under the bedsheets as Richie reads another one of his comics. Except, Richie's been on the same page for twenty minutes now. It's impossible for him to read.

Instead, he's staring at Eddie's soft hair framing his lovely face, listening to his steady breathing along with the soft ticking of the clock in his room. Eddie's eyes are closed, and it seems like he's about to drift off into sleep, but then he speaks, nuzzling his head against Richie's chest.

"I don't want to die." The harsh words are a sharp contrast to Eddie's sweet, sleepy voice.

"Why would you say something like that, Eddie Spaghetti?" Richie asks nervously, shutting his comic and placing it on the bed beside him, opting instead to run his fingers through Eddie's hair like he's been imagining for the past hour or so.

"You know I hate that name. It's Eddie. Period." Eddie insists, but he sighs in delight once Richie's fingers come in contact with his scalp, scratching lightly. "I just... I don't know if we're all going to come out on the other side of this. Like, we talk about it like it's some fun adventure, but it's not. It's an evil older than the fucking universe. I don't know if we can take that on. We're just a bunch of random teenagers, you know?"

"I know." Richie replies, staring blankly ahead of him. He can't believe Eddie is able to think about this. Richie just ignores the thoughts most of the time. Eddie can't seem to get them to leave.

"And I really don't want to die. Because I really like spending time with you. I really like you." Eddie continues, and wow, Richie did not expect that. He pauses, turning the words over in his head, trying to decipher if there's some hidden meaning behind them. Fuck, is there a gay code? Is this supposed to mean something?

"How much?" Richie asks carefully. Eddie sits up, and for a second, Richie fears he's done something wrong. But Eddie doesn't look mad, just pensive.

Eddie thinks about Richie's question hard. How much? He doesn't know. He can't measure it, he feels like, can't put into words how happy Richie makes him.

"A lot. Seriously, a lot." He answers after a moment or two, a smile spreading across his face. "I constantly want to be around you. You make me really happy, and you're really funny. And... it's like... there's this weird pull you have. Sucking me in. And I want... I want..." You, Eddie finishes in his head. His eyes float down to Richie's lips for a second, pupils dilating as he gazes at Richie's face.

Richie moves towards him, sliding his hand onto Eddie's cheek. Eddie licks his lips, and Richie smiles slowly at him. Nervous.

"Can I...?" Richie whispers, and Eddie nods. He doesn't need to finish the question.

"Please." Eddie says, and then Richie leans forward to close the gap between them.

Richie kisses Eddie, the real Eddie, for the first time, in his dimly lit room during the freezing Derry winter. But they don't feel cold; they feel on fire. Richie's glasses bump against Eddie's nose as their lips move, and it's everything he'd imagined. It's everything Eddie imagined, too. Richie tastes like mint, from his toothpaste, and Eddie tastes like strawberries, from his chapstick. Their senses are exploding, the touch, taste, smell all so perfect.

Time seems to stop for them, letting them savor the moment, save it in their minds. Their hearts are pounding. The whole universe, all the stars, all the planets, all the good and evil, it all slows down. Finally. Finally. They feel like they've waited their whole lives for this one precious moment.