𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕫𝕚𝕖𝕣 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trashmouthed) wrote2019-09-20 02:02 am
trashmouthed) wrote2019-09-20 02:02 am
open post.
for psls, memes, prompts, previously discussed ideas, and tdm overflows. bring it, bb.
for psls, memes, prompts, previously discussed ideas, and tdm overflows. bring it, bb.
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[Which is true, that was their friendship after all. Anything to get Eddie riled up to the point of no return, like a spinning top. Twist him out of place and watch him go. It's been part of what they had for as long as he can remember.
The hammock keeps them both pretty close, scoops them together like peas in a pod. They're sitting waist to waist, legs dangerously close to getting tangled and Richie has some stupid magazine open on his lap- idly flipping through pages to find something worth reading.
This is what he lives for these days, just time alone with Eddie before the other losers file in and join the shit show.]
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❪ he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and glancing toward some dark corner of the clubhouse. not that richie isn't right because that's just how their friendship was since the beginning. they riled one another up, bristled and bickered but it worked for them.
breathing out a sigh, eddie tips his head back and then forward again with a small look. he considers backing out of this space of thoughts more than once in the few seconds he spends looking at rich but ultimately bumps their knees together. ❫
I can see colors, you know. Have for a little while now.
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[Richie says it so plainly like it's a statement of fact, it's not like his glasses don't magnify Richie's eyes four times over. He leans into Eddie, just to be sure, close enough that he knows if Eddie really can see color there's no denying it.
Also, just to be close to him but that's not important. Statistically, 79% of the world had brown eyes but his were more hazel than anything. If Eddie didn't want to be honest, all he'd have to do is guess. He's a bad liar though, and Richie would spot it.]
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❪ but suddenly richie is in his personal space and eddie is blushing again, red creeping down his neck and making the smattering of freckles on his face stand out even in the low light of the clubhouse.
he has to suck in a breath of air, blinking once and then swallowing hard. ❫
Brown, sorta. ❪ he mumbles before peeking back. ❫ But, like, more greenish-golden brown... I guess. It's hard to describe. They're not just normal brown though.
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[It's an admission, of guilt on his part and of knowing that what Eddie was saying was the truth. He swallows hard, but then he feels like he's been caught redhanded and isn't sure how to grapple with the knowledge that he just played himself.]
And you still got up and wore the clothes you're wearing today?
[A proud grin replaces the look of uncertainty that had once been on his face, he reaches out and ghosts a finger just past the bridge of Eddie's nose.]
Fair's fair though. Yours are... brown, but like the honey color or like caramel, but the outside ring is dark blue. Almost. Depends on where you're looking or if the light's on you.
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❪ he grumbles under his breath and shoots a look at rich at the comment about to speak up but then the other boy is reaching out, a finger ghosting near him and eddie locks up. more than that, richie just... admits so easily that he can see color too. just like that. suddenly all of eddie's thoughts have been answered and he breathes out a small sound. ❫
You too but since... since when?
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[It's hard to explain, like where along the lines he started seeing color. Definitely before all the bloodshed and fuckery that was their jaunt with the demonic clown.]
Before the museum.
[Where they'd watched the film on the projector, way before that. It's about all he knew. One day he woke up and everything was color, he never attributed it to anything but once he saw color- he sure did like looking at Eddie, spending time with him.]
What about you?
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❪ back when things were just a little more simple. well, sorta, as simple as it could be for a teenager who could suddenly see color— who suddenly, without warning, had met their soulmate. something that wasn't supposed to happen until you're older. ❫
Around the time we met, I think. I don't really remember any point you weren't in color to me.
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[Despite the joking tone in his voice, the hopefulness there would be undeniable to Eddie. He's got a generous grin on his face, but he's not showing his teeth. They're alone, so they can be more themselves with each other.]
Can two boys from Derry even be soulmates? I bet you wanna kiss me now, right Eds? It was probably my raw animal magnetism and my manly musk that sent you into technicolor.
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... If I said, yeah, I wanna kiss you— would that freak you out?
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A soft pink blush creeps up the back of his neck and completely overtakes the sides of his jaw and ears. Eddie's soft features, the small dash of freckles over his nose, it all seemed high definition and ultraviolet right now.]
Fuck no.
[Back to reality, they're in a safe space. A spot that no one but them and the other losers knew about and in a moment of bravery he knew that nobody could find them here and this moment could be theirs.]
It's just a kiss.
[Richie is terrified though, he can hear his heartbeat in his head and his breathing was coming in quick succession. Eyes wider than normal and tripled by his glasses.]
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it's just a kiss with his fucking soulmate or, rather, who he assumes is his soulmate. more than that— it's his best friend. one of only a handful of people that actually get him. despite richie's words there is still this silent fear that maybe this will fuck all of that up and they'll never be the same again.
but, despite his fears, richie hasn't given eddie a reason to actually think that. the blush that creeps up richie's face is illuminating in color and eddie swears that his heart skips a beat. he carefully sits up and tries not to wobble the hammock too much because it's a fucking event to situate himself so this might happen. ❫
It's my first kiss. ❪ he admits, a hand finding one of richie's wrists and gently holding it. ❫ S-so don't fucking laugh at me if it's bad, okay?
❪ he's not going to give him a chance to respond though because eddie is sure that it's just some snappy one-liner. instead, he leans in to press their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss. just a simple, if somewhat awkward, press of lips. ❫
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Until now.
Richie would be lying if he said he didn't want to kiss him. Their entire friendship had been a lot of lingering looks that lasted too long, gentle hand-holding that went unseen and lasted only moments, and a lot of never discussed moments that would make most boys their age uncomfortable.
For them, that was just any given day. When Eddie's hand finds his wrist, Richie's whole body jumps, but not physically. It takes him a minute to realize through the shock and the anticipation that his mind had just emulated that - the feeling of jumping out of his skin.
It's my first. So, don't fucking laugh at me if it's bad, okay?
What did Eddie think he was just standing on a corner working a kissing booth? Even if he did, who would show up? Except for a group of assholes ready and willing to lay him out and make him eat dirt.
If being physically outside of your body while also being inside there, able to feel every nerve ending in your skin was even possible it's what he'd think was going on. Richie's body comes alive when Eddie's lips touch his, in every single way. His stomach is in knots, his face is burning all the way to his ears, and he can feel the warmth from Eddie being so close completely consume him. Were he a weaker guy, he would've completely passed out, he's sure of it.
Instead, his eyes just go closed, and the hand that had been tightened into a fist at Eddie's grasp relaxes fully getting lost somewhere between them in the hammock.]