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Richie Trashmouth Tozier (trashmouthloser) wrote in snapthread,

lemme try that again
Bill had always had a lot of patience, that was true. It was probably easier to be kinder, to wait for others to gather their words and their wits when he'd had to do the same for himself so often, lest he stutter more than he already did. In comparison, Eddie had always been a little bit of a hothead when it came to waiting -- or tolerating things that were obnoxious.

Richie'd always pushed the limits of what he was allowed, had always taken hours and miles when he'd been given minutes and inches. He'd always been a little bit secretly concerned that one day they just wouldn't put up with him anymore, which kind of just made him push harder. He'd been pretty dumb. Still was, apparently.

He crossed one arm over his chest, scratched at his neck awkwardly with his free hand once he was done rubbing at his face and his too-tight glasses were back on his face properly. There'd be no blurring or tuning this out. Rich needed the clarity of it. He smiled faintly over the question, because fair was fair and he had declared his intention of living in the hammock, okay?

"Yikes," he murmured. "Just getting to the hard questions right away, huh?" It was true, Rich -- even as a kid, had never quite said what he meant. He'd just done an awful lot of implying, had tried to make his actions mean more than the words he didn't say. It was hard to break out of the walls he'd built for himself his entire life, to just go out there and say something he'd barely let himself think about for so long. But Eddie'd done it. Several times now.

"Before that summer, even," He admitted, and if he stretched his leg just enough to press against Eddie's thigh. Well. It was a thing he did. "During that summer. Every fucking day until we both moved away and --" Forgot. They'd forgotten each other. But there'd always been something missing, hadn't there? "And then again when we all met up again in Derry and --" He had to look away, because fuck if talking about this didn't make him a little nauseous. "After." After Eddie'd died, and Rich had had to be dragged the entire way out of Neibolt -- not one single fucking step he'd taken had been his own. Because he fucking loved Eddie and he hadn't seen the point in it, in not just being buried there with him. And Eddie deserved to know that.

"I've always loved you, okay?" Saying it out loud was somehow simultaneously the most relieving thing he'd ever done and the most stressful, like maybe two parts of his brain were just warring over the concept.