serendipity {sequel to pop} || reddie

huit

Richie had started journaling before he'd gone to Derry. He rarely did it, only writing when his emotions- positive or negative- were too big to handle. He kept his journals with him on the road; there were five of them so far. The first one was from fourth grade, and it was pretty stupid, Richie thought. He wrote in it fairly often, always attempting and failing to make it into a daily routine.

Dear diary,
I think Grayson hates me now, which sucks because I really like him. Emma says I scared him by eating that worm in front of him on Monday, but that's fucking stupid if it's true. It was cool, I don't know why he wouldn't be impressed. I wish he'd respond to my notes, though. He's really not that stupid. And I miss him a lot.
Richie

The oldest entries were typically along those lines, lamenting about fourth grade problems and talking about books and movies. Richie often wondered how he hadn't realized his sexuality sooner. His diary made it pretty obvious, especially once he got a little older. For example, sixth grade.

Dear diary,
We did Romeo and Juliet in English today. It was so fucking stupid, honestly. If these fucking characters had just talked to each other, maybe they wouldn't have died. Anyway, I had to read for Romeo, and it sucked. Julia played Juliet, which was kind of funny because of her name. She's nice and everything, but I don't know, it was weird to read a confession of love to her, especially since I got mud on her once last year and she pushed me into a puddle. Yeah, I fucking remember that, Julia. But Hayden or George S.? They would be really good Juliets, I think. I know they're guys, but they have that beauty and softness and innocence that Julia is missing. I wouldn't mind being Romeo with them as much.
Richie T.

He'd recorded a few entries in Derry, which wasn't surprising, as it was a turbulent time for him. It was the one journal he had "misplaced" in his house, never opening it.

Dear diary,
Goddamn fucking Eddie Kaspbrak. I hate him. I hate him because I don't hate him. And it fucking sucks!!! Sometimes my heart beats so fast I think it might fall out of my ass. Seriously, this shit is crazy. I can't even describe it. Is it possible to have a second sexual awakening? Or gay awakening? I know I kind of had mine in eighth grade when that whole makeout with Hayden happened and I ended up jerking it in his bathroom- romantic as fuck- but Eddie is something else. It's different than all of the little crushes I've had before. I feel stupid for saying it, but I think this might be the closest I've ever gotten to love, whatever the fuck that is. Jesus Christ. Someone save me from this heavenly hell.
Richie

And then Richie had seen Eddie again, and fuck, everything came back at once. It was almost too much to handle. Richie wanted to run from the tremendous feelings, but he just couldn't keep himself away from Eddie. His time in New York was trickling away quickly. He was leaving tonight.

He had wanted to spend time with Eddie the other day in the hopes that the more he hung out with Eddie, the less... electric Eddie would get. The more his new-love-interest shimmer would fade. But it had only made it worse. Richie only hoped now that the parting would be gentle. That Eddie would go easy on him.

The first thing Richie did when he woke up at noon was call Eddie. The line rang four times before it was picked up, but not by Eddie.

"Hello?" An unfamiliar voice said.

"Hey, is Eddie there?" Richie asked, and the voice gasped.

"Oh, you're Richie Tozier! Shit, I'm Dean, I'm Eddie's roommate and best friend and most trusted confidant." Dean spoke quickly into the phone, and Richie smiled. So this was the guy he'd signed an autograph for. "I'll get Eddie for you."

"Thanks a million." Richie said, and then Dean took the phone away from his mouth, shouting into the dorm.

"Eddie, Richie's calling! I'm going to steal him from you if you don't get your ass in here!"

"Hold the fuck on, Dean!" Richie heard Eddie's faint voice in the background, and then a door opening. Eddie took the phone. "Hey, sorry about him, he's fucking stupid."

"No problem." Richie grinned at Eddie's voice, which sounded a little breathless. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well. I was about to hop in the shower, but I guess that's not happening now."

"I took you for the kind of person who showers at six in the morning." Richie said, and Eddie laughed a bit.

"I don't have a client until two, so I decided to sleep in a little. How are you?"

"I'm alright." Richie felt a weight descend upon his shoulders as he breached the subject. "I'm leaving tonight."

There was a pause. "Ah."

"Yeah."
"Tonight?"
"Tonight. At six."
"Where are you going?"
"I'm flying to Boston and then back to Chicago. That's where I live, I never told you."

"Wow." Eddie's voice was hushed, and Richie could hear the emotion behind it. Eddie was trying to process a lot, trying to get it to all cooperate and make sense in his head. "That's kind of... far."

"I know." Richie replied, swallowing. He hated this, hated tension and buildup and tip-toeing around real emotion. It was worse than a full-on breakdown, in his opinion.

"So what are we going to do?" Eddie asked.

"I have no goddamn clue." Richie said. He was scared. Scared he'd forget Eddie again, scared of leaving him behind, scared of what his feelings meant. He knew he had to push through and be honest, because there wasn't time to dither. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

"But you're leaving. It's long distance. I don't know."

"But I can't just be friends with you, Eddie." Richie said, realizing how exasperated his voice sounded. "Because we're not friends. I can't call this a friendship. I fucking love you."

Woah.
Richie hadn't meant to say that. Richie had not meant to say that.
But once he did, it felt right. And he realized it was very much true.

Eddie didn't speak for a long time. All Richie could hear was his uneven breathing and a TV playing in the background. He felt that creeping dread, the regret and anxiety dragging him down. You shouldn't have said that, Richie. You fucked it up. You always fuck it all up.

"I don't know." Eddie said finally, and Richie felt crushing disappointment, tears stinging his eyes.

"Yeah." He said, wiping the tears away quickly. "Yeah, I... I get it."

"Richie, I'm not saying-"

"Don't. Don't try and fix it or whatever. It's okay." Richie interrupted, and Eddie fell silent again.

"I don't want you to leave." He said after a few moments, and Richie heard that he was crying. He hadn't expected Eddie to cry for him, and he was hit with that wave of emotion again. But he willed the tears to stay locked up safe. He didn't want to upset Eddie further.

"Me, neither. We only got to see each other for a few days." Richie agreed. "I'm going to miss you a lot. I'll call."

Silence.

"What if you don't?"

Richie swallowed. "I will."

"But wh-"

"I will, Eddie." Richie insisted. "I'll call."

Eddie sniffed, and Richie's heart broke a little more. "Can I see you before you leave?"

"I don't know." Richie said. He did know. He had hours until the flight, of course Eddie could come see him.

But he didn't know if he wanted him to. He wasn't sure if he could face Eddie after what he'd said, after what they'd both said. It might be for the best to just... leave. What if Eddie were to kiss him? It would shatter Richie. He was already crumbling.

I fucking love you.
For the first time, unreciprocated.