I Think I Know You
It didn't take a lot of convincing. "You have to go out, Rich! We have just the place in mind for you." Eyebrows wiggled in that knowing sort of way which was enough to tell Richie they were definitely going to a bar – the sort of bar where everyone looks for that perfect wild night of their life with just the right stranger. "This is what college is about," they said. Richie laughed. He knew his friends only wanted to help him out. "You have to make your last few nights here worthwhile."
College had been exactly what Richie expected it to be – boring. Nothing seemed to suit him other than being the jokester that he was. He figured he would just get in and out with the quickest degree possible to satisfy his parents, and then it would be "Bye bye, Jersey, hellooooooo L.A!" He hadn't expected to actually make a few friends along the way, although he felt like these were the type of friends he wouldn't stay in touch with. What sort of friends do you stay in touch with, anyway, he wondered. His flight was booked to finally take him away to follow his dream to California, so it hadn't taken much convincing to actually get him out to say goodbye to the town. He knew he wouldn't miss it though, just like he knew he wouldn't miss college.
"Step right up, step right up! Wanna go for a wild ride? Well you're in the right place!" Richie's voices were getting better. Much better in fact that his friends tried to convinced him he should use a different voice for the night to see how many people he could fool. His other friends joked that using any sort of voice would just make people run away. He thought he might even prefer it that way.
"He might as well not even talk at all!" His friends laughed, all in good fun. Richie was lucky enough to be sitting next to the window instead of squished between his two friends in the back seat. They were far more excited about the night ahead than he was, leading them to laugh a bit too loud – their laughs contained a few globs of flying saliva. Richie might have pointed it out and made a joke or two at their expense if it had been any other occasion.
"Mr Wise Guy, I see," he said, and then he glanced out the window to see if his suspicions were correct about their changing surroundings. He didn't mind bars – in fact, getting drunk made it easier to come up with comedic material, although it was the sort of material that inevitably got him kicked out of said bar. It was the dating scene that shrugged him the wrong way, and he was most definitely not a dancer. Everyone blended together to him, and though he could easily mingle his way through a crowd with feigned popularity, it never ceased to remind him how alone he truly was. He was funny, but that was it. I'd rather have them laughing with me than at me.
Before too long their destination came into view – Sitting Tree. Richie figured it was a dumb name. This guy, that girl, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! It was childish and appropriate. Several people hung around in groups outside to chat, smoke, and drunkenly make out. He would leave in an hour, if even that. His friends excitedly began to wager bets on who would get lucky first. "Well, Rich? Feeling lucky?"
"Luck be my lady tonight," he said in an outrageous voice which elicited even more laughter from his friends. It was a good show, he thought. He wondered if he would have to call a taxi to get home since he doubted any of his friends would be sober enough to drive back.
"So once we go in, we split up? I don't want any girls to think I'm a loser with no friends."
"No girl will even want to talk to you if you're surrounded by a bunch of dudes. We go at it alone."
"I think I'd look pretty cool as the lone wolf kinda dude anyway."
"Shit dude, you drove us here! That means I can't take anyone home tonight!"
"Well you're welcome for having a designated driver."
"Yeah, whatever. You ready, Rich?"
"Let's get this show on the road," he almost muttered to himself. He had been pointedly ignoring their conversation. Once they parked, they exited the car and stayed together up until they entered the bar. Richie barely looked at any of the people hanging around outside and he held his breath as he walked through a massive cigarette smoke cloud. One of his friends stayed behind to light up, contributing to the smoke.
Although Richie was well aware of the reputation surrounding Sitting Tree, he didn't expect the inside to be as accommodating as it was. There were two rooms – one with a dance floor, the others with sofas and tables. Both rooms had bars, though the room with sofas was the only one to also have televisions above the bar. Guess that's where I'll be, he thought. It's a Saturday night, I've gone out, and what am I going to do? Sit at the bar and watch TV while drinking too much beer. Not like he was going to study anyway. He headed for the bar and sat at the only remaining stool available at the far end while his friends headed in the direction of the dance floor.
"Just a Bud Light is fine," he said to the bartender. It would have been cheaper for me to just drink at home, he thought, cautious of how much all this beer was about to cost him. The bartender gave him a thumbs up and smoothly popped off the top of a bottle for him. "Might as well start a tab." He took his glasses off briefly to rub his eyes. He wondered briefly how many beers he would drink before his friends were ready to leave.
Richie didn't think he had always been this way, though there was no true memory to back that up. Dates, to him, were meaningless. Establishing a connection for the very sake of doing so had no true bearings, so comedy was both his weapon and his weakness when it came to communication. After many failed attempts at actually caring about another person, Richie figured he was doomed to walk the life of one feigning happiness.
"Come on man, you came out here to have fun and all you're doing is sitting at the bar?"
For a second Richie thought the voice must have been one of his friends, but he could have sworn he just saw them go into the other room. The guy sitting next to him lifted his head from his drink – he had been staring into it dully – and responded with a quick, nervous voice.
"I told you it's not really my scene. And if I leave this spot I'll drown in cigarette smoke."
"It's not that bad, dude. Everyone's smoking outside, not on the dance floor."
"There's no way I'm going to dance," he huffed and looked back down into his drink. "Go on and have fun, I'm just going to drink myself unconscious." He raised his bottle and downed the entire thing. His sleeve fell back from his wrist, and out of the corner of Richie's eye he could see a bulky black watch. It wasn't the type of watch people his age wore, and Richie had to shut himself up before creating a new voice based off the ridiculousness of that watch. Old habits die hard.
The friend sighed, clearly defeated. "Well alright man, but don't be surprised if I find someone to bring home later and you're on your own again." With that, Richie was left alone with Watch Guy sitting next to him.
"Yeah, yeah." Watch Guy signaled for another beer from the bartender and was pleased when a new bottle was quickly placed in front of him - Coors. "Just gonna have to call another fucking taxi, but whatever." He lifted the beer in an imitated "cheers" to himself and started to drink. Richie put his glasses back on and took a drink of his beer as well.
"Thought I might be the only one." Richie turned to look at the man to nod. He felt something catch in his throat when the guy turned to look at him and their eyes locked.
"Huh?" Watch Guy responded and then immediately turned back to his drink.
"This isn't my kind of rodeo either," Richie said, and then felt awkward for even speaking to this stranger in the first place. He held himself back from breaking out into one of his many voices to ease the internal tension.
"Friends drag you here too?" Watch Guy turned to look at Richie again, more hesitantly this time, and he took another drink. His eyes were dark and had a warmth about them. It was the sort of warmth that made you feel like you were the center of the universe, even if just for one moment.
"You could say that." Richie didn't necessarily feel he had been dragged to the bar, but he certainly felt like he would have been judged for not joining. He wasn't about to become the topic of curious conversation. Richie held his bottle outward. "To friends?"
Watch Guy smiled. "To friends," he said as he clinked his bottle to Richie's before taking another drink. Silence passed between them – as silent as silence can get when loud music thumps from the adjacent room. "I'm Eddie," he then said.
"Well nice to meet ya, Eds. Name's Richie." Richie noticed how easily the nickname rolled off his tongue. I don't even know anyone named Eddie, he thought. At least, I'm pretty sure I don't.
Eddie gave him a small smile and a nod. Their eyes met, and a moment passed between them. "Richie, huh? Nice to meet you, too." He laughed a little. "I don't think anyone calls me Eds." The sound of the nickname made him grimace.
"No? Well you sure look like an Eds." Richie was surprised at how naturally he grinned at the stranger. Although… was he really a stranger? They had exchanged names at this point, and the nickname had just rolled off the tongue like second nature with no thought behind it.
Eddie chuckled. "That makes me feel sort of old."
"Nonsense, you don't look a day over fifty." Richie beamed.
"Oh, well, that makes me feel a lot better." Eddie rolled his eyes, but he smiled nonetheless. "I'm only 23."
"You too, huh?" Richie took a big drink. He wondered if their shared age was the source of the familiarity and comfort he felt. That's bullshit, he thought to himself in response. Plenty of people my age piss me off.
"Yeah, but I don't have any grey hairs like you do."
Richie almost spat out his beer as he laughed, genuinely enjoying the unexpected banter. He wasn't used to anyone playing along. "Hey now," he said, "your mom loves my grey hairs."
The two of them laughed childishly at that and then looked at each other, smiling. It was entirely too comfortable and didn't make sense with the way Eddie joked and laughed in return. It made Richie feel too good. He'd almost met his match, and that was saying something.
"Have we met?" Richie asked, quite sure that they indeed must have met at some point in time.
"I was about to ask you the same thing. You look oddly…" Eddie propped one elbow up on the bar to get a better look at Richie, "… familiar. I'm sure we've met."
"Yeah." Richie mimicked the action. "I'm sure I know you from somewhere. You must go to college around here, right?"`
"Oh, I uh, I don't go to college yet," Eddie said, slightly embarrassed. He and Richie both took another drink from their respective bottles.
"Well in case you were wondering, it's not all it's cracked up to be," Richie said in between drinks. "Just another stepping stone."
Eddie's eyes softened at him, thankful for the non-judgmental perspective. "Maybe we worked together at some teenage job?" He asked this knowing full well he'd only worked at one job prior to his current one and he knew the names of every employee there.
"I've only worked for my family so far," Richie said, slightly shaking his head. "We even moved here just for that. What about – " he shivered animatedly," – high school?"
"Well I went to a school in New York."
"That's a big fat no." Richie's brows furrowed. "I'll be darned, Eds. I'm at a loss."
"Eds…." Eddie finished his drink. "See, even that sounds familiar when you say it."
Richie flagged down the bartender and signaled for another round for the two of them. He sat in thought for a moment as he waited for his next beer. "This one's on me, Eds." He loved the way the nickname sounded coming from his own voice, almost as much as he loved the way Eddie looked when he said it. It made too much sense while it made absolutely no sense at all.
"Thanks for the beer." Eddie patted Richie's knee. "Let me get a clear look at you, Richie."
They both completely turned to face one another head on. At this point it was pure determination to remember something – anything at all. The longer they looked at one another, the sicker Richie began to feel. The nervousness in Eddie's gaze became more and more apparent, and Richie saw him reach into his pocket to put out an inhaler. "Are you alright?" he asked. Richie's brows knitted in concern.
"Yeah," Eddie wheezed out, and he shook the thing vigorously. "I just feel short of breath all of a sudden." He sprayed into his mouth, though it didn't seem to set him at ease. "Maybe it's all the alcohol."
They had had a few drinks, but considering the alcoholic content of what they'd just consumed Richie didn't think it had been that significant enough to make any impact. "Maybe we should step outside," Richie suggested anyway.
Eddie shook his head quickly. "The smoke… it will make it worse." He'd already begun to shake his inhaler again. Is that even healthy to use twice in one minute? Richie wondered.
"I'm pretty sure there's an alleyway. Why don't we hide out there?"
Eddie nodded and they downed their beers quickly. "I should probably tell Paul…." Eddie looked toward the dance floor room with a pained expression. "You know what, never mind. I'm not going in there."
They stumbled slightly toward the door, and Eddie grabbed his nose as they walked through the cigarette smoke to the alleyway. A couple was passionately making out at the very end of it and they clearly weren't bothered by the company. "Hot," Richie said, but the comment was ignored by them.
Once in the alleyway Richie leaned casually against the brick wall while Eddie awkwardly stood in place. "Richie?" he began, unaware of where exactly he wanted the conversation to go. "What's, uh…. What's your last name?"
"Tozier." Two words popped into his mind just then – trash mouth.
"Richie. Richie Tozier," Eddie said to himself, pacing a little, the wheezing starting up again. He brought his inhaler back out of his pocket, but as he brought it up to his mouth, Richie reached out and grabbed it from him. They both physically recoiled from the feeling of their hands grazing in the motion. "W-Why did you…"
"Because," Richie said, looking down at the inhaler in his hand. Why had he just taken it? "Because…." He turned it around in his hand. "Because it's just water."
"What did you say?"
"It's just water," he said again, this time looking back up at Eddie. "I don't know why I know this but I just do."
"What – No, I have asthma!" Eddie took the inhaler back, shook it, and sprayed into his mouth. As he did this, he realized he believed what Richie just said – it really was water. Well, water with some added chemicals, but not the kind of contents that an inhaler typically had. "How…?" He stared at the inhaler, bewildered. "No, I have to be drunk, because this doesn't make any sense. I have asthma."
"Eddie." Richie shoved his hand into his jacket pocked although he felt he was beginning to sweat. "What about your last name?"
"Kaspbrak." Eddie continued to stare at the inhaler in his hand.
Richie's heart felt as though it had skipped a beat. Everything about Eddie was familiar – his eyes, his nervousness, his inhaler, and of course his name. Richie knew he loved him. In that moment that's all that was abundantly clear to him. The feeling of love was so overwhelming that it terrified him. "Eddie," he breathed out, and then he nearly vomited. He remembered. Of course, Eddie! "Oh my god, Eddie." He stepped forward and grabbed Eddie's face, looking at him closely. Eddie stilled for a moment, and then his eyes softened.
"… Richie?"
Richie's voice was nearly a whisper. "I know you." His eyes traced Eddie's face, slowly taking in ever y aspect of him. "I can't believe I forgot."
"Richie," Eddie said again, and his hands moved up to caress Richie's face in turn. They gazed at each other in wonder, their hands feeling the warmth from each other's cheeks. Eddie's fingers moved up to touch Eddie's glasses. His mouth fell open as he traced the rim and Richie smiled softly. "Richie… what happened to us? How could we have forgotten each other?"
"I don't know, Eddie." He savored saying the name. There was so much behind it, ready to be discovered. He worried if he were to stop saying the name, he would lose whatever memory he happened to uncover between them. "I can't seem to remember. Why…?" He stroked Eddie's cheek with his thumb. "Why did I forget you? What else did I forget?"
Eddie breathed deeply, thinking intensely about his inhaler at that moment before remembering he didn't actually need it. "You used to always make me laugh."
"I think you mean I would always make fun of you."
"Is that right?" Eddie moved his hands down to Richie's arms so he could properly see his face. "I don't feel like you did."
"What do you feel like I did, Eddie?" Memories were slowly beginning to fill Richie's mind and he recalled an arcade, though he wasn't sure where it even was. He also recalled a bridge. It occurred to him that forgetting such a significant chunk of childhood wasn't normal, and it had clearly happened with Eddie's memory as well. Why, why why…. Do I even want to know why?
"Hm." Eddie paused in consideration. He focused on Richie's hand on his face. "I feel like… you protected me." He felt a memory coming to the surface, but whatever the memory contained caused him to shiver uncomfortably.
"I protected you?" Richie thought that over and then his face became pained. "That's right! Your arm. You broke your arm somehow." He went to touch Eddie's right forearm in wonder. "You must have been such a klutz."
Eddie scoffed. "I really don't think that's how it happened." He settled his hand over Richie's on his forearm. "But to be honest I can't even remember how it broke."
"Quite the cast, though. Loser, huh?" Richie said quietly. "We were Losers."
"Oh god, Bill! Bill and Stanley." Eddie smiled a little. "The four of us were best friends in school. We didn't just forget each other, we.…" He shook his head, the smile fading as quickly as it had come. "We forgot them as well."
"Oh fuck." Richie shook his head. "They were our best friends."
"Fuck," Eddie gasped. "Something happened to us – something made us forget." Eddie began to shiver again. "I don't fucking get this. Everyone was so important to me. How does that just disappear?!"
Richie grabbed his face, settling him. "Hey, hey!" He felt himself becoming overwhelmed with the desire to make everything right, regardless of how he felt himself. He needed to calm Eddie down. "I'm here now," he said, his face close to Eddie's. "That's what matters right now."
"Richie," Eddie whispered.
A terrifying feeling came to Richie just then as he felt Eddie soften under his touch. He wanted to kiss Eddie so bad that he was surprised the impulse didn't take him over completely. It felt like a perfectly natural thing to do, but actually doing it was another thing entirely. He felt himself freeze.
"Richie?" Eddie brought his hands back up to touch Richie's face in return. Richie flinched slightly and then leaned into Eddie's hand.
"Do you live around here?" Richie asked quietly.
Eddie shook his head. "No, I'm just here visiting a friend. I go back tomorrow, actually…. But I can come back. Jersey isn't too far from me."
"I'm moving to California in a few days." They looked at each other intensely, sadness passing between them.
"Richie, I don't want to forget you again."
Richie rubbed his thumb across Eddie's cheek and toward his mouth where he then traced over his lips. "Part of me feels like I never really did forget you." Eddie's lips parted slightly and he leaned in closer. Richie felt his heart begin to race as he slowly leaned in, fully prepared to just kiss Eddie.
"Eddiiiiiie! Where you at?" The voice was very loud and was followed by giggles. Eddie nearly flew backwards in surprise and wildly looked around. His friend from earlier was stumbling outside of the bar with a smiling woman next to him. "Eddiiiiie!"
"I'm over here, Paul," Eddie called back, annoyance in his voice. Paul held the woman's hand and they came over, smelling of alcohol and sweat.
"There you are! See me and, uh…." He turned toward the woman who didn't appear bothered.
"Macy," she said.
"Yeah,right, me and Macy are gonna get out of here." His eyes passed over Eddie, noticing Richie. "Who's this?"
"Richie," Richie answered for himself. "I'm a friend of Eds here."
"Eds?" Paul laughed. "Well make sure Eds has a bit more fun tonight, would you? It's his last night here in town."
"I'll be fine, Paul," Eddie huffed. "Go on and have fun."
Eddie watched his friend turn the corner and leave and felt immediate relief. "I only came out here for him," he said, and then he looked back at Richie. "But I'm glad I did."
"Hey, do you wanna get out of here?" Richie shifted uncomfortably, still in shock at what he had almost done. "I could use some food."
"Sure."
Sitting Tree was fortunately surrounded by several other businesses that remained open late in the hopes of gaining some extra bucks from the drunk patrons. They walked a couple of blocks to a small Chinese joint that appeared mostly empty and headed on inside without a word. After the close encounter they had just had, Richie felt embarrassed and incredibly awkward beside Eddie. I almost fucking kissed him, he thought incredulously. It was clear he had more than platonic feelings for him, but Richie hadn't expected everything to hit him so hard. As they had walked the few blocks together he was hyper aware of the space between their arms, and the way their hands accidently brushed against each other's in a casual swaying motion. Regardless of the affectionate way touched during their remembrance of pieces of the past, Richie knew that holding Eddie's hand was not something he should do. But holy fuck did he want to.
They sat across from one another in a small booth tucked away in the corner. Richie awkwardly kept his hands inside his jacket pockets while Eddie fidgeted with his fingers on the table. Before they could break the silence between them, a waitress came over and placed down a couple of waters.
"Thanks," Richie said too quickly.
"What will it be?" she asked flatly, probably with the assumption that she was about to deal with two more drunk idiots.
"Uh." Richie looked to Eddie. "What about you, Eds?"
Eddie looked up from his fingers. "Well I'm allergic to dairy and eggs, and a cashew would certainly kill me."
Richie doubted that was true. "Sure, so how about you surprise us with anything that doesn't have any of that?" He gave a big smile to the waitress who rolled her eyes in response but didn't verbally complain. Once she was gone Richie turned his attention to Eddie. "Are you really allergic to those things?"
"Are you going to tell me you know I'm not allergic like how you apparently know I don't have asthma? Because yes, I'm allergic." He didn't even sound sure of himself as he said it. "Did you see the look in her eyes, though? She'll put a cashew in whatever she gives us just so she can smile again."
Richie laughed. "You think murder will make her feel better?"
"I suppose if I had to deal with the kind of crowds this place gets then I would want to kill someone, too." Eddie shuddered and took a sip of his water. "This is probably just tap water."
"It's straight from the restroom, don't you know?" He smiled at the horror on Eddie's face and took a drink of his own water. "Delicious."
"That's fucking disgusting."
"You haven't changed much," Richie said softly. "It's nice."
He could have sworn Eddie's face became red at those words, though it might have had to do with the thought of drinking toilet water.
"Yeah, well." Eddie coughed. "You've kind of changed. Only slightly."
Richie cocked an eyebrow. "I have?"
"I said only slightly. You're… kinder. Softer." Eddie coughed again and his face turned bright red. The cough sounded forced.
Richie's mouth fell open. Although Richie had little memory from his childhood with Eddie, he could not recall a time when Eddie had ever said something so… fond about him. It made his insides feel completely weightless for a second. "Nevermind," he said, forcing himself to speak. "You have changed. You're embarrassing."
"Fuck you," Eddie said, causing both of them to laugh. Silence once again settled between them after that.
Richie finally took his hands out of his pockets and looked at them – they were uncomfortably sweaty and red. He wondered if his face had also turned visibly red. A moment later their food arrived without a word. The waitress had gone with rice and vegetables, steering clear of all possible allergens Eddie had mentioned. Richie noticed Eddie poking at it curiously with his fork. "I'm sure it's fine, dude."
"Yeah, well I don't need to be collapsing dead in front of you."
Richie shrugged and went to eating. It was just as he had expected – mediocre. It's not like he expected anything to amaze him at a place like this, but it would have been nice to have a truly enjoyable meal with Eddie before having to say good bye again.
Good bye. The word hurt him. Before they had been interrupted by Paul they had been holding each other in fear of their next good bye and what it would mean.
"Richie?" Eddie's voice shook him out of his thoughts. He looked up to meet Eddie's eyes which resembled a lost dog. "I think there's more we forgot."
"I'm sure there is." Richie took note that Eddie was actually eating the bland rice.
"I mean something important."
"Well I somehow forgot you even though you're important." Oh fuck, he thought. I just fucking said that.
Eddie blushed at the comment but allowed it to pass. "There were more than just us, though. More than Bill and Stanley."
Richie sighed. "Honestly, there's probably a reason why we forgot. I can't remember anyone else."
"Don't you remember what you said earlier when we remembered Bill and Stanley? You said Losers. Why did you say that?"
"That's what we were, right? That's what your cast said, anyway. When you broke your arm." Richie furrowed his brow. "No, wait. I changed it."
"You made it say Lover instead."
"Well I am a lover, not a fighter."
Eddie looked at his forearm again, imagining the word. "I feel like we were all lovers and fighters that summer." He reached for his inhaler again but simply held it. "I know there were more of us."
"Seven," Richie said, surprising himself. The number seven just felt right to him. "Seven Losers."
"Yeah," Eddie sighed.
"Hey," Richie said, reaching his arm across the table to place his hand over Eddie's. The inhaler remained trapped between their palms. "What matters is we remember each other."
"We'll forget again." It was the voice of defeat.
"Give me your phone." Richie reached in his pocket and took out his own, placing it on the table. "You do have a cell phone, right?"
"Yeah…." Eddie took out his own phone and handed it to Richie.
"We'll exchange numbers. We'll call each other."
"You'll be in a completely different time zone, Richie. Like, three hours behind or something."
"Who the fuck cares." Richie entered his number into Eddie's phone and motioned for Eddie to do the same with his.
"What if it's not enough? You'll just be a number in my phone."
"Holy fuck, Eds, stop being so negative. We'll take a picture together. We'll make each other our backgrounds or some dumb shit."
Eddie looked around at the depressing décor of the restaurant. "In here?" He glanced in front of him at the half eaten place of veggie rice. "With that?" He gestured to it.
Richie rolled his eyes. "We'll take it outside under a street light. Are you going to eat any more of that?" He mimicked Eddie's gesture.
"I think I'm good."
"Right." He looked down at his own plate to see that he had eaten the entire thing. "I wonder where our darling waitress is." He looked around to find her standing nearby holding a single check. She came over to them expectantly and didn't turn around until she had one of their cards in her hand. "People probably dine and dash here a lot," he guessed.
"Can't imagine why," Eddie remarked. "Um… thanks for that."
"Always happy to buy you mediocre rice." The waitress returned and slapped Richie's card in front of him. He laughed, assuming she had heard his comment.
Once out of the restaurant they headed to the nearest street lamp. "I hope you aren't looking for quality," Richie said as he took out his phone.
"We're actually going to take a selfie?" Eddie's eyes widened.
"Well who the fuck else is going to take it? Get next to me." Richie put his arm around Eddie's shoulder and pulled him close. The image was dim, but not unrecognizable. "You gonna smile or what?"
"This is so weird," Eddie said, but he smiled regardless.
"We're two handsome devils. I'll send it to you."
They both made the photo their phone backgrounds and blushed, though they were thankful the dim lighting made it nearly impossible to notice. "I, uh… better get back. I have to leave first thing tomorrow." Eddie stared at his feet.
"I'll ride a cab with you." Richie dialed the local taxi service without waiting for a response, unwilling to leave Eddie's side.
Eddie watched him in contemplation. He had no desire to leave Richie, especially with the strong possibility of forgetting him again. But the thought of letting on to how he felt was equally as terrifying. He didn't even truly understand what he was feeling to begin with anyway.
All he knew was that Richie was here with him, but tomorrow there would be distance between them. In a few days the distance would grow to hundreds of miles. He reached out and grabbed Richie's arm just as he got off the phone.
Richie froze in place. "What is it?"
"Uh," Eddie stammered. "So I'm staying in a hotel while I'm here." He expected Richie to say something in response but he didn't. "My friend doesn't clean up very well so I just prefer it that way, so, uh, what I'm trying to say is I'm just staying by myself for the night, but…."
"I don't have anywhere else to be." Richie's voice sounded foreign to him. It was cautious.
"I mean you don't have to stay if you don't want to, I get that it's like super weird, like really fucking weird – "
"Eddie. Shut up. I'll stay with you."
Eddie inhaled sharply. "Right." He looked at his hand, which was desperately clinging to Richie's jacket. He released him quickly and wiped his hands on his pants. "Yeah."
They stood in silence as they waited on the cab, neither one of them wanting to acknowledge the atmosphere between them. It was as if they had just gone on their first date and were still getting to know one another. Richie's hands were shoved deep in his pockets and he found it difficult to not pull his phone out and stare at the photo they had just taken. All they could do was hope it would be enough to hold on to the memory of each other, but Richie couldn't be so positive. He had actually put his arm around Eddie for the photo – it had been such a natural thing that he wondered what was holding him back from holding Eddie as they waited on the cab. He briefly wondered if his strongest fear had to do with being seen by others and not Eddie's reaction at all.
When the cab pulled up to the curb, Richie held the door open for Eddie. "Ladies first," he joked.
"Dude." Eddie rolled his eyes.
"Just get in, Eds."
Eddie's eyes narrowed but he got in the cab regardless, followed by a grinning Richie. Once in route toward the hotel, the silence fell between them again. They looked out the window and watched as the street lights became more infrequent, and the sound of clubs faded behind them into nothing. Eddie shifted in his seat and rested his hand on the middle seat between them, accidentally brushing up against Richie's hand. Neither of them made any sign that they had noticed.
"We're here," the driver said dully. Richie handed him the money, and they stepped out into the parking lot.
"Wow," Richie breathed, looking up at the building. "I mean, I didn't expect you to be in a motel but this is kind of overkill."
"Do you have any idea how often hotel rooms are cleaned? I wanted to sleep in peace, thanks," Eddie huffed, and he headed toward the door. Richie followed behind him, making "ooo" and "ahh" sounds in the lobby. Even the elevator was ornate, appearing wooden from the outside with the insides lined with mirrors.
Although the first impression of the hotel had been in awe, the room itself wasn't anything extraordinary. "Are you sure they clean the rooms and not just the fancy couches downstairs?" Richie said. He noticed Eddie's clothes were all neatly folded in one suitcase. Another suitcase sat near the bathroom and bulged out at the sides.
"I asked them about it probably twenty times." Eddie nervously removed his jacket and placed it on a hanger in the pitifully small closet.
"I'm sure they were honest with you," Richie said, dragging his finger along the wall. "Is this dust? Oh my."
"That's just gross," Eddie rolled his eyes. "I'm not that bad."
Richie pointed at the massive suitcase. "Then what's in there?"
"None of your business." Eddie slid the suitcase into the bathroom and shut the door.
"Come on, Eds." Richie sat on the bed, his jacket and shoes still on. "You don't have to hide yourself from me."
Eddie felt the same urge to grab on to Richie that he had felt outside by the street light. He shifted in place, looking at Richie. Richie cocked an eyebrow at him. "Your shoes," he said in a small voice. "You're still wearing them."
Richie looked down to his feet. "Oh yeah," he said, and he shook them off and shrugged out of his jacket. Now that he was in Eddie's hotel room he had no idea what to do, and he was hyper aware of the single bed. Had he said he would stay overnight? "How long have you been here?"
"Just a couple of days." Eddie slid his own shoes up against his suitcase. "It gets too expensive after that."
"It would have been free to stay with me instead of this ridiculous hotel." Richie imagined Eddie's possible reactions to the filth in his own apartment and smiled softly at the thought.
"I just remembered you a few hours ago."
"Oh yeah. I guess I already forgot that detail." Richie leaned back against the headboard.
"Did you forget that you forgot me?"
"I guess I did." Richie wasn't smiling.
"Then do you… do you remember anything else?"
"Eddie, sit down. You're making me feel weird with all that standing." Eddie shifted his weight again on his feet before sitting down at the edge of the bed. "And yes and no. I remember more about you the more I'm with you, but that's it."
"I just can't get over how fucking weird this is." Eddie shook his head.
"I can't get over how I met you at a dirty bar and now here we are at a dirty hotel."
Eddie resisted the urge to roll his eyes once again. "Why were you at that bar anyway?"
"I told you, my friends dragged me there."
"You didn't exactly put it that way."
"My friends wanted me to get laid before I move to California and I decided to not make it a scene." Richie laid his back against the bed completely to stare at the ceiling. "Not like I'm going to see them again anyway, but whatever."
"You don't want to see your friends again?" Eddie shook his head incredulously.
"I guess I wouldn't call them friends," Richie sighed.
"That's really sad, Richie." Eddie took the opportunity to stare at Richie, since Richie's attention was directed toward the ceiling.
"It's fine. They won't care if they don't see me again either."
"Well I would care."
Richie paused for a moment. "You're different." He rolled over on his side to look at Eddie, catching Eddie's eyes. "No one else is like you." They held each other's gaze. Richie noticed he was holding in his breath and he let it out shakily. "So why were you at that place?"
"Paul brought me there for the same reason as you." Eddie didn't bother to turn his eyes away from Richie.
"You willingly went in that sort of place? Yeah right." Richie cocked his eyebrow again. "You sure you weren't looking for some fun?"
"Gross," Eddie gagged. "Absolutely not."
Richie's mouth fell open. "Edward Kaspbrak," he said, smiling. "Are you a virgin?"
Eddie almost choked on air. "Why the fuck are you asking me that?"
"Holy fuck," Richie laughed. "You are."
"What? No! What the fuck?" Eddie stumbled over his words.
"You can totally tell me if you are," Richie managed to say through his giggles.
"Even if I was I wouldn't tell you." Eddie looked away, his face bright red.
"You would totally tell me if you weren't, though. And you're not telling me, so I can only assume you're a virgin." Richie's grin would have been infectious if it weren't for the jabs he was making.
"We're changing the conversation," Eddie said with a straight face.
"Sure." Richie sat up to lean against the headboard again. "Then tell me what's in the bag you just slid into the bathroom."
Eddie groaned loudly. "Can we change it to something that's not about me?"
"But I like talking about you." Richie's voice was soft but still had a humorous tone to it. Eddie blushed again and he made a point to not look directly at Richie. After deciding that Eddie wasn't going to respond to that, Richie decided to poke even further. "So why did you want me to come here with you anyway?"
"You know why."
Richie's stomach felt like a hundred butterflies had just burst from within him and his mind raced to conclusions he was sure weren't the case. His mouth hang open slightly as he searched for his words. "Eddie," he said, leaning forward toward him. He waited until Eddie gave in and finally looked at him. "I don't know how I could forget you again."
"You will, though. And I'll forget you again, too."
"You made that picture your background on your phone, right? Stare at it every minute of the day if you have to." Richie's hand hovered over Eddie's momentarily before resting on top of it.
Eddie looked down at their hands and then flipped his hand over so that his palm rested against Richie's. "What if it's not enough? It took us long enough to remember each other when we met at the bar. What if we've already run into Bill and Stanley and didn't even recognize each other? What if we already walked by the others who we can't even fucking remember and didn't even know it? Holy fuck, Richie, we can't even remember their names."
"Hey," Richie said as he scooted closer to Eddie. He held on tightly to his hand. "Why don't you come with me."
"W-What?"
"I mean to California."
"Richie," Eddie pulled back, shaking his head, "I just can't drop everything and move across the country."
"Sure you can. I am." Richie gave him a big smile.
"I'm not you, though. I really think there's something going for me in New York. What if I asked you to stay there with me?" He watched as Richie's smile faded. "Yeah, exactly – you wouldn't do it."
Richie looked down at their hands, noticing how their fingers had laced together without either of them paying mind. He traced his thumb lightly against the side of Eddie's thumb, and he wondered how long Eddie would allow it to happen. Eddie's breath quickened but he said nothing.
"You've always been so nervous," Richie said softly, changing the subject.
"Fuck you for making me nervous," Eddie whispered, not unkindly.
"Bullshit. You think you have asthma. I didn't do that to you. And at this point I don't know what there is to do about us forgetting each other again."
"I – fuck you," Eddie sighed. "That's not why… never mind."
"What are you going on about, Eds?" Richie continued to rub his thumb along Eddie's, especially since Eddie had made no motion to pull away regardless of his words. Richie could feel his heart racing in his chest with uncertainty.
"Forget I said anything. And honestly, stop calling me Eds."
"No."
"Whatever. Why are you even holding my hand?"
Richie looked up and his thumb halted its tracing motions. "Why are you letting me?"
"I'm not letting you." Eddie blushed bright red yet again. How many times is that? Richie wondered.
"Yes you are."
Eddie stared at their hands, his mouth slightly open. He silently panicked over whether or not to actually take his hand back. If he was being honest, he really didn't want Richie to stop touching him. It was overwhelmingly comforting, though he was reluctant to let on how he really felt. Similarly, Richie fought with himself over the powerful urge to kiss Eddie. It would have been so easy – they were only sitting a foot apart from one another. He swallowed hard, staring at Eddie's mouth whose lips were parted to allow shallow, nervous breaths to pass. Richie felt himself begin to sweat.
"Will you let me?" he whispered.
"Apparently I already am," Eddie said, avoiding Richie's eyes.
"I don't mean your hand."
Eddie's lips parted even further and his eyes grew wide. He stared intensely at his hand in Richie's. "Yes," he choked out.
Richie felt like he was in a dream. While still holding onto Eddie's hand, he reached forward with his other hand to caress the side of Eddie's face. Eddie leaned into the touch instinctively. Richie leaned in slowly, allowing Eddie plenty of time to resist or turn away in case he hadn't understood what Richie had meant when he asked him for permission. He turned Eddie's face slightly to the side, and then placed his lips on his, kissing him cautiously. It was a simple kiss, not lasting for more than a few seconds. When he pulled back, he opened his eyes to see Eddie staring at him, though his expression was one Richie couldn't define.
"What took you so long?" Eddie breathed.
"How do you know I never kissed you when we were kids?" Richie smiled wide, his teeth showing. He was surprised that Eddie couldn't hear how hard his heart was thumping, threatening to leap from his chest.
"I'm pretty sure I would have remembered something like that." Eddie's brow knitted. "Or would I?"
"Stop worrying so much, Eds."
"Don't call me – " Eddie's words were cut off by another kiss. When Richie pulled away again, Eddie found himself gasping for breath. "Fuck… you…."
"Don't tempt me." Richie laughed at Eddie's exaggerated reaction. "Kidding, dude."
Eddie didn't look convinced. "Fuck, it's late. I have to be up early to get back tomorrow."
Richie followed Eddie's gaze to the bedside alarm clock. It was after 3am. "How early is early exactly?"
"In four hours," Eddie groaned.
"Do you want me to sleep here?" Richie asked, not forgetting that the room only had one bed. Once again, Eddie made the same expression he had made after Richie had kissed him. It was similar to a puppy, longing for attention. It was irresistible. Richie figured he wouldn't ever be able to say no to Eddie while he was making that face. He also noticed how soft his voice became when he talked to Eddie. "Let's get to bed, then."
Richie had opted for sleeping in just his shirt and his boxers, but he had to stop himself from laughing at Eddie. Of course, Eddie actually owned and brought a set of pajamas with him – it was a matching navy blue set. When he came out of the bathroom wearing them Richie didn't even bother to cover his mouth as he laughed. He felt himself fall even more deeply in love with him.
"Shut up." Eddie rolled his eyes and climbed into the bed, leaving room next to him. "At least I don't sleep in my fucking underwear. That's gross."
Richie continued to smirk as he joined Eddie in the bed and pulled the covers up over him. He placed his glasses on the end table next to the alarm clock. "I think I just remembered something," he said as he laid on his side to face Eddie.
"What?" Eddie turned toward him. He felt his heart flutter as he looked at Richie's face with no glasses on. Had his eyes always been so kind?
"The hammock."
"Oh shit." Eddie's eyes widened. "We used to share that hammock all the time as kids."
"You just wanted to be close to me, didn't you?" Richie raised an eyebrow.
"Fuck off!" Eddie rolled over to face the wall. He felt Richie's arm move over his torso, and then came the warmth of his whole body against his back. Eddie stiffened and his breath quickened. He expected to hear some sort of comment come from Richie, but he heard nothing. "Richie?"
"Hm?" came the reply. Sleep was slowly taking hold.
Eddie paused for a moment before continuing. "Even if we do forget again… even if we don't know why… I'm glad I saw you tonight."
It was Richie's turn to blush, and he was thankful Eddie couldn't see him. "How embarrassing."
They slept like that, with Eddie curled up in Richie's arms. Richie's breaths were deep and Eddie snored lightly. Eddie's alarm was obnoxiously loud in the morning, causing both of them to grumble unhappily. Four hours of sleep had felt like twenty minutes. "Fuck," Richie grumbled, his voice scratchy from sleep. "Why do you even have to be awake right now?"
Eddie yawned loudly. "I have somewhere to be and have to account for time it takes to drive back." He felt incredibly warm and remembered that Richie was pressed against his back which made him even more reluctant to get out of the bed. Richie held him tighter.
"Just a few more minutes," he said, shoving his face into the crook of Eddie's neck.
"I can't." But holy fuck did he want to. Richie groaned loudly as Eddie pulled himself away. "I really do have to get going."
Richie flopped on his back and rubbed his eyes. "I guess I should call a cab soon."
"No, no, I'll drive you." Eddie picked out some clothes from his neatly folded pile in the suitcase and headed for the bathroom. Richie watched him curiously.
Holy fuck, he thought to himself as he slowly woke up. I fucking kissed him. We fucking cuddled. He rubbed his eyes harder in disbelief. I kissed Edward Kaspbrak. And he fucking let me. Richie sat up and grabbed his glasses. The sun was coming through the window, making it still too bright for him to open his eyes all the way. He looked down at the spot next to him where Eddie had just been a moment before – it was still warm. Richie brought his hand up to his lips and he touched them gently, trying to remember how it felt to have Eddie's lips pressed up against his. Although he had kissed him twice, they had been brief. He was surprised he had even managed that. He even wondered if Eddie had really allowed it to happen at all, or if he had just been too embarrassed for him to turn him down.
"Are you going to get dressed or what?"
Richie was shaken out of thought by Eddie's voice. Eddie had chosen another polo to wear and matched it with dark jeans. It was dorky and absolutely adorable. "Yeah," Richie managed to say. He shook his head and pulled himself out of the bed.
"That's some bed head you have going on there."
Richie felt the top of his head, but he knew what his bed head looked like. He didn't really mind it either way. "Hm."
"What's the matter with you?" Eddie sat down at the edge of the bed as he put his shoes on.
"I'm fine." Richie stood up and shook his head again. He found his pants on the floor and pulled them on, not looking at Eddie.
"I'm pretty sure that I know when you're fine and when you're not." Eddie slid his shoes over to him.
Richie sighed and sat down next to Eddie to put his shoes on. "I'm really not a morning person and you're ridiculous for making us stay up so late."
"That was hardly my fault, dick head." He watched as Richie tied his laces and then grabbed his jacket up off the floor as well. "Hey."
"What? I'm ready to go now." Richie was standing near the door, his hair sticking out at the sides.
Eddie nervously wiped his hands on his jeans. "I guess I wanted to say thank you."
"For what?" Richie shifted his weight from foot to foot. He noticed that the bulging suitcase was next to him, as well as the other suitcase containing Eddie's neatly folded stacks of polo shirts.
"Everything?" He continued to wipe his hands on his jeans.
"Well fuck, Eds, that's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"
"Richie, why did you kiss me?"
Here it came. Richie felt like he was going to vomit and he nearly stumbled back into the door. He hadn't expected Eddie to bring it up, especially so directly. Eddie thought about a lot of things, but confrontation wasn't something he specialized in. "I just wanted to." What the fuck, that's all you can come up with? Richie internally cursed at himself.
"I'm glad you did." Eddie looked down at his lap. He had wanted to tell Richie more, like how he had dreamed of Derry. He dreamed of the clubhouse, and in the clubhouse he had seen the faces of the other Losers they couldn't remember the names of. He dreamed of seeing a bridge and wondered if the E carved on it had anything to do with him. But it was all just a dream, not something he felt was truly worth mentioning. He was going to return to his normal life in a few hours – a life where Richie Tozier didn't exist, although his dreams begged for him to remember otherwise. He glanced at the clock next to the bed. "We should really go."
Richie offered to help him carry one of his suitcases but he adamantly refused. They walked in silence to the car, and Richie sat in the passenger seat as Eddie checked himself out at the front desk. The car could have been new – Richie figured Eddie's tidiness had something to do with that. It even retained the new car smell. Richie didn't know how many more times he would fall deeper in love.
Eddie returned to the car with two coffees. "They're serving breakfast so I figured I'd get something while it's still free before heading out."
"Thanks." Richie took one from him and took a sip – it was black. "What, no sugar?"
"It's better for you this way." Eddie took a sip of his own before placing it in the cup holder between them.
"Do you really think you need more caffeine to aid with those jitters?"
"Shut the fuck up and give me the directions." Eddie rolled his eyes and started the car.
"If I shut up then I can't tell you where to go, smart ass." Richie smirked and took another sip of his coffee.
"Whatever. Now tell me where to turn."
Behind their light bickering and smiles lurked a sadness that neither of them were ready to acknowledge. Every turn they took toward Richie's place was another step toward the distance they would face which would inevitably cause them to once again forget each other. Richie allowed himself to laugh and to continuously poke fun at Eddie's expense, and Eddie never felt the blush leave his face.
"This is it," Richie said as they approached a drab looking building. "Castle Tozier. For the next couple days, at least."
"Good riddance." Eddie pulled up the curb and put the car in park. They sat in awkward silence. The radio played quietly – Eddie had turned the volume down in order to properly hear directions, but he refused to turn the music off entirely. Both of them inhaled and exhaled deeply, and it was almost comical with how synchronized it was. "Um, Richie – " Eddie had begun to speak, but was silenced when Richie turned and planted a kiss on him. It was longer than the two from the night before and held significantly more passion. Eddie returned the kiss, breathing hard through his nose. When Richie pulled away their lips made an audible sound.
"Thanks for the ride," said Richie.
"Yeah." Eddie nodded. "Any time."
"Call me when you get to New York."
"Yeah. Sure."
Richie opened the door and stepped out of the car. He looked back and gave Eddie the biggest smile he could manage. "Later, Eds." Eddie watched as he shut the door and walked toward his apartment, hands in his jacket pockets.
Of course he was late. Had he really expected anything else from himself? Richie Tozier clutched his duffle bag and jogged through the airport. I cannot be fucking miss this flight! He hadn't planned on taking much with him to California. Literally everything he owned was in his duffle bag, but for some reason the trip to the airport had taken up so much time. He had paced around the empty apartment feeling like he was forgetting something. He checked every outlet for a possible charger and every shelf in the closet for anything he might have left behind, but the place was completely empty. The carpets were even cleaned.
What the fuck am I missing? He nearly screamed at himself. Being late for his flight was not something he wanted to do. In fact, it would have pushed him back another day, at least, from his big move. In the end he figured whatever it was that he had left behind would be easily replaced once he got settled in at his new apartment. It was probably one of those minor things you don't even think about until you suddenly need it – like a toothbrush, or headphones. He had already checked for both of those things, though, and they were tucked away inside his duffle bag.
He made it through security quick enough, allowing him just enough time to stop by one of those overpriced news stands for an energy drink. It was going to be a long flight and he didn't plan on falling asleep next to a bunch of strangers within close proximity. He audibly sighed as he approached the gate. I can't believe I made it. They had just begun boarding. The next step of his life was waiting for him down that ramp. Once he was on the plane he would finally be able to say "Fuck you!" to everything New England and "Hello, bitches!" to all of the possibilities waiting for him in California. He imagined this being a more exciting moment for him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that whatever it was he had left behind wasn't something he could just replace at a gas station.
When he took his seat he opened up his duffle bag before stowing it away. He sifted through his few articles of clothing – those that were worthy enough to come with him instead of being dropped off at the local thrift shop. He found his toothbrush, his charger, head phones, another pair of shoes, and even a book he had considered useful. Everything was where it should have been. He shrugged and shoved he bag under the seat in front of him, deciding that the feeling he was getting was simply coming from leaving the state behind. He relaxed in his seat and looked out the window, watching as other planes took off into the skies around him. The excitement finally took hold of him and he imagined he was already looking at California. He wondered idly if the friends he had made in college would ever bother to think of him. He couldn't even remember the last time he had seen them.
His attention was grabbed again when the flight attendant took her place in the front of the plane to go over safety procedures. "All mobile devices must either be turned off or put into airplane mode," she reminded everyone.
Ah, shit, Richie thought, and he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He turned on the screen and froze. There he was staring back at himself, standing next to another man whom he couldn't name. It was such a bad picture that perhaps he couldn't recognize the man due to the quality, but that answer didn't sit right with him. Surely he knew the man, and of course he had looked at his phone before boarding the plane – he was the type to use his cell phone as his alarm. It didn't make any sense for him to not even remember setting the image as his background, yet there he was, utterly confused. He brought up his other hand and set his fingers over the face of the man, begging himself to recall at least a name. Nothing came to mind.
"Sir? We're about to take off. I'm going to have to ask you to put your phone away."
Richie blinked a few times at the picture before looking over at her. "Right," he said, nodding. He simply turned the phone off completely and shoved it back into his pocket. He stared out the window and pictured the man's face in his mind until he could no longer remember what he looked like. His eyes shut, and he felt a single warm tear run down the side of his face.