5555 reddie (Completed)

Part 26

"I-" Richie starts, but he stops himself. He's not actually going to do this? Is he? Eddie stares at him with wide eyes and slowly lets his seatbelt slap into place.

"You what, Rich?"

"Nothing," Richie says, and he unbuckles his seatbelt, too, like it really is nothing. Like he has not been thinking about kissing Eddie since before he realized, or imagined what it would feel like to hold him chest to chest. Eddie looks at Richie, as if to say you sure?

Sitting still, Richie licks his bottom lip and takes a deep breath. Just fucking do it. Just do it. Be brave. Do it. Do it, Richie. Don't be a coward.

Before he can reconsider, he stretches out of his seat across the middle to meet Eddie in a tender kiss. It is slow, and neither of them do much with it, because they don't know how. They have surely only known the lips of each other. The thought makes Richie shudder, and he feels Eddie tense. Richie's hands are on the seat between them, and he cannot feel Eddie's. The kiss is ugly, and Richie is so scared. But when Eddie finally responds, and Richie feels his hands curl around his sides, they are kissing hungry, making up for lost time even though they have all the time in the world. Eddie's lips are like velvety pillows, and his mouth tastes like that unfinished can of soda, and Richie wants more, more, but he doesn't demand so much. This one kiss seems to be everything and nothing at the same time, for they have been involved in inexplicable ways for almost a full year, that this moment is almost underwhelming.

When Richie pulls back he knows he is blushing hard; he feels it all over his body, and he stares at the steering wheel, too embarrassed to even glance at Eddie. Why did I do that why did I do that why did I do that why did I do that-

"Oh," is what Eddie says, and Richie won't look, doesn't want to.

"Fuck," Richie swears. "I'm sorry."

"No-don't be sorry. That's not what I meant. I didn't mean oh like oh I meant it like... oh. Okay. Fuck." It becomes apparent to Richie that he is not the only one with a mess of thoughts.

"Sorry, Eddie," Richie says. "I don't know why I did that." But he does.

Because he wanted to. Because it has been an endless nightmare of days without doing it, and he finally broke, finally couldn't hold back, finally allowed himself to unwind and just go for what he wants. And what he wants is Eddie. Undoubtedly, forever.

"I'm glad you did," comes Eddie's voice. He speaks so quiet, so shy. It has been a long time since Richie has heard him like this. "So... is that it? The best thing you ever did?" Now Richie looks at him, stares into Eddie's eyes, and it is like watching the sunrise, so beautiful, yet soft. And like you're looking at someone you've known for decades in a whole new light. And Eddie's face is only kind, and Richie does not know why it would ever be anything different. Eddie accepts him. Eddie cares for him. He holds him when he's sad. Knows how to cheer him up when he's upset. Eddie is his best friend, after all.

"Yeah." Richie laughs. "That's it."

They never kiss again.

Richie doesn't have to ask Eddie to know they won't, because they don't. It's never initiated, or talked about, but that's okay. Because now they hold hands, and cuddle sometimes when it's cold at night. And whenever Eddie smiles Richie's heart feels as though it will pop out of his chest. He loves Eddie. There is no way he doesn't. At this point, Eddie is all Richie has ever known. They have spent so many days together, but Richie never tires of him. While they can bicker and disagree, things are never too rough between them. Though with constantly being on the road, some days are especially bad, but at least they have each other.

This is one of the worst days, Richie thinks, because they are pulled to a stop in the middle of a road, out of gas, and unsure what to do. Their parents never told them what actions to take in this situation, probably because they figured their kids wouldn't run off at only sixteen. School never gave them a packet on how to hitchhike or the dangers of doing so. Oh well.

They lean against the car in the afternoon light and wait for somebody to pass by. No cars do. There is nothing and nobody here. It feels like they are in the middle of nowhere. Yet... as Richie stands against the side of his truck with his thumb stuck out, he can't help but feel as though he has been in this situation before. Out of gas and left with only his thoughts. It is plausible, he figures, to have gone through something similar during his time with Eddie. But then why can't he place it?

"Eds," he says, and he dangles both his arms at his sides as he looks at Eddie. Eddie squints at Richie, attempting to see him through the beaming sun.

"Yeah?" Eddie replies.

"You feel kinda off?" Richie asks. "I feel weird."

"Weird how?"

"Like we've been here before," Richie breathes.

"Huh," Eddie says. "Like déjà vu?"

"Yeah. Kinda." Except more intense, Richie wants to say, so intense that it makes me feel uneasy, and a little sick. "Think we'll die here?" he asks, wanting to change the subject from this strange feeling. Maybe if he ignores it it'll go away.

"Probably." Eddie snickers. "Why? You scared?"

"I'm shaking in my boots," Richie says.

Eddie pushes himself away from the car and turns to face Richie. "I'm bored of waiting here. I want somebody to come already."