(1) "Why Would You Bring Me Here?" Eddie Asks, Shifting Nervously. He Still Lets Richie Walk Him Over

(1) "Why would you bring me here?" Eddie asks, shifting nervously. He still lets Richie walk him over to the bridge, leaning on him a little, shaky on his feet after how much time he'd spent bedridden during his recovery. The kissing bridge isn't exactly home to a lot of warm, fuzzy memories. Unless... No. No, he's sure that's not possible. But Richie has an arm around him, and seems nervous himself-- nervous, but certain-- and so what can Eddie do but follow?

(2) “When we were kids, I… Okay, feel free to tell me this is stupid, but– You know that summer? Well… I just want you to know I was thinking about you, I guess.” Richie glances down at the carved initials as they reach the spot, his fingertips brushing over the E. “There’s a lot I might not remember still, maybe there are still things I never will, but… I remember that, and I remember you. How it felt not to see you, when I thought I’d never go more than a day without you…”

(3) “Rich…” Eddie winds his arms around Richie’s neck, leaning into him. He breathes him in a long moment before he moves in for a kiss. There’s more, he thinks– more old pain from that summer that Richie remembers, that they might talk about in time, when it doesn’t feel so fresh again. Now that they remember the bad times, they can actually process it all and move on, at least. But this is what he’d deemed important, this testament to young love, then unspoken.

(4) “And… shit, and I know everyone knew about me, and I was so afraid of what would happen to me if I couldn’t convince them they were wrong… I was afraid the whole time I was writing it, but I didn’t care. If that makes sense. I just wanted to pretend that it was all right, just for a minute, because I was sick of being scared and I was sick of pretending you weren’t it for me. You always have been.” He strokes Eddie’s cheek tenderly, thumb tracing his scar. “You still are.”

(5) The memory hits him then, the more Richie talks about how he’d felt and why he’d overcome his fear just enough, just in secret, to leave their initials on the bridge. Kneeling in the dirt, his heart pounding in his throat, his arm still in a cast. Knowing his mother would be upset at how long he took to come home, knowing she would be upset with the dirt, and being so angry with her because he hadn’t seen any of his friends in days, and he missed all of them, but Richie was different…

(6) “Richie, look down.” Eddie kisses his jaw, soft, then points out the R, encircled by a slightly wonky heart. “I knew I’d… I knew I must have done something here, and I didn’t remember, until– It was that same summer. And don’t be an asshole, it looks like that because I was in a cast, I–” And Richie cuts him off with a kiss before he can defend his own carving ability, one arm firm around his waist, one hand in his hair, and maybe with a kiss like that, he wouldn’t mind a little tease…

(7/7) “It’s perfect.” Richie says, and kisses him again, and then a third time. “Really. It’s the most perfect. It’s… You’re perfect. You, too? All this time, and– Yeah, yeah. Okay. Perfect.” He kisses him one last time, before offering his arm, and pulling out his phone. He gets a picture of the two engravings on the bridge, grinning, and then he leads Eddie back to the car. They’ve got a future together now, far away from Derry… but after twenty-seven years, it’s nice to know.

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ANON THIS IS SO SWEET. I’ll come fix the cut when I’m not on my phone ;;