5555 reddie (Completed)

Part 16

"When's your birthday, Eds?" Richie asks, hoping for an answer. Eddie has never mentioned his birthday to Richie, not ever. Glancing over at Eddie, Richie meets his eyes, and something seems to resurface inside Eddie, because he blinks like he is just waking up, and he swallows thickly like he is just adjusting to his body, shuffling in the leather seat. Richie almost repeats himself, because he's not sure Eddie heard, but then Eddie replies, quivering lip, trembling tone.

"I don't know," he says, and Richie just looks at him. Suddenly there are tears in Richie's eyes, and he doesn't know what else to do other than pull over at the side of the road, and stare, only stare. Because so many things have gone wrong in Richie's life; he was born into a family that didn't want him, only to be treated like a doormat, in his own house and in elementary, middle, and high school. He was at the top of his class but at the bottom of life. That life was the lowest Richie has ever felt. But somehow, right here, right now, the intense look of desperation hidden beneath the silky brown meadows of Eddie Kaspbrak's eyes... somehow this is worse than all that.

So: No, Richie thinks, this is the lowest, and he knows it is true.

They have found a river to swim in, to wash their clothes, and bathe. The car is parked to the side of the dazzling blue stream, and Richie stares at Eddie with a lopsided grin on his face, eyes easy, squinting slightly because of the blinding sun. Though it is sunny out, it is not particularly hot, meaning it is not prime time for swimming. Which Richie comes to understand in the furrow of Eddie's brows and the frown capturing his lips, arms crossed and stance strong.

"Just a quick dip," Richie suggests unconvincingly. Eddie shakes his head firmly. "We haven't showered in days. We've been sleeping in my car, eating in my car... we've barely left that small space." An idea settles in Richie's head, and he smirks, leaning against the hood of his car, real smug. "Do you even know how many germs are in there?"

"Way less than a local river," Eddie says, though he sounds unsure and his hands move to fumble with the loose hem of his purple sweater. "I don't know, Rich. This is a bad idea." But Richie doesn't agree, so he shrugs and pulls his shirt off in one quick motion, no shame. He doesn't look at Eddie as he tugs down his jeans, and ignores the cold gust of wind that hits his bare stomach and legs. "You're not actually going in there, right?" he hears Eddie asks, but instead of replying Richie goes over to the river and dips his foot in, testing the water.

"Not too shabby," Richie says, and then he sits down at the side of the stream, legs in, torso out. He'll ease himself in nice and slow, as if to adjust to the freezing water without any struggles. But either way it'll feel like a bad chill on his pale skin. "Come join me, Eds," he says, the rest of his body going underwater. He dunks his head under and emerges from the water with chattering teeth and pre-pruning fingertips.

"I don't want to," Eddie says, approaching the water. He tugs off his jeans. "I'll dip sit with my legs in."

"Just your legs?" Richie asks as he watches Eddie sit at the edge of the water. He sits down with both legs in and flinches at the chilling feeling. Smiling cheekily, Richie swims over to Eddie and holds onto both his legs. "My favorite parts of you." And Eddie stifles a laugh, peering down at Richie with an amused look on his face.

"My legs? Funny."

"Your legs remind me of mini sausage rolls," Richie says. Eddie's face contorts into an expression of mild disgust.

"What the-are those the fucking pigs in a blanket?"

"The best picnic snack!" Richie cheers with a happy smile. After hearing this, Eddie kicks Richie's grip off his legs and pulls them up out of the water. He hugs them to his chest, though they are soaking. The knitted material of Eddie's sweater grows damp at the contact.

"God, no! Those things are fucking disgusting," Eddie replies. "My legs and I are offended."

"Didn't mean to offend you." Shrugging, Richie swims away, turning onto his back to float. "Just meant they're cute. Like little sausage rolls."

"Stop saying that. It's weird." Silence. "You're so weird."

"I might be weird but you're still the one who ran away with me." While Eddie is out of Richie's vision, Richie just knows Eddie's lips are pursed, face puckered.

"I didn't run away with you. We ran away together, the two of us."

"Sure," Richie says, closing his eyes as he floats and floats. The water is beginning to feel nice on his skin, no longer freezing on him but sorting to a manageable temperature. "Call it what you want, Spaghetti."

"I call it what it is," Eddie says. There is the sound of a splash. Richie can't help but look, pulling himself off his back so he can look properly. Eddie is in the water, but he is wearing all of his clothes. Richie can't help but bark out a laugh.

"You're so out of it, huh?" Richie says. "Forgot to take off your sweater, dummy."

"I didn't forget," Eddie says, cheeks flushing a bright red.

"Then... what is it?" Richie asks, confused. Eddie looks quite ridiculous, swimming around in his heavy knit sweater. "That thing must weigh you down a million pounds," Richie comments, floating over to where Eddie is, and he tugs on Eddie's sweater, earning him a glare from the smaller boy.