[ richie's stomach swoops at the words. he drops a knee on the bed, gingerly at first, as if he doesn't quite trust the bed to hold them both—or maybe it's that he doesn't trust any of this to be real. they've both seen fucked up shit in their lives, things that he might have called magic if they weren't gruesome bullshit; how can he be trusted to tell reality from hallucination at this point?
that and he's wanted eddie kaspbrak for so long he barely trusts his own hands to hold him. his mouth curls to cover a tremble, and then he's bracing a forearm by eddie's head. the watch eddie gave him glints a little in the orange daylight streaming in through the bedroom curtains, the signs outside of a setting sun.
he leans down to kiss him again. slow this time, and hot. there's a part of his brain, ever fearful, that thinks if this all isn't a hallucination then it'll be too good to be true another way—eddie can always change his mind and richie will never have any choice but to let him. but he gets to kiss him at least twice today if he's lucky, taste the remnants his chapstick, the inviting inside of his mouth. that's not nothing, he tells himself. nothing about any of this is nothing. ]
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that and he's wanted eddie kaspbrak for so long he barely trusts his own hands to hold him. his mouth curls to cover a tremble, and then he's bracing a forearm by eddie's head. the watch eddie gave him glints a little in the orange daylight streaming in through the bedroom curtains, the signs outside of a setting sun.
he leans down to kiss him again. slow this time, and hot. there's a part of his brain, ever fearful, that thinks if this all isn't a hallucination then it'll be too good to be true another way—eddie can always change his mind and richie will never have any choice but to let him. but he gets to kiss him at least twice today if he's lucky, taste the remnants his chapstick, the inviting inside of his mouth. that's not nothing, he tells himself. nothing about any of this is nothing. ]