deercountry inbox.

[measuringdicks]

welcome to the trench chapter of interdimensional hostage bullshit anonymous! unfortunately no one can come to the phone right now because we’re being fucked over by the multiverse again, so leave a message after the beep. we’ll get back to you if we’re still here.

video | voice | text | action

gif from stanleybarbur.

Comments

tw internalized homophobia, mention of homophobic violence & aids

[measuringdicks]

[He's not wrong. Sometimes dead is better, although that exact phrase runs a small shiver down Richie's spine. Has he heard something like that before? Eh, probably in a movie somewhere.]

Well. [A tired sigh. He doesn't want Eddie to see it, it's gruesome and awful.] Okay. But I have to warn you, it's pretty fucked up. [It is, after all, a dinosaur essentially chomping down on him. He pauses.] What'm I saying, you've probably seen a hell of a lot worse than a T-Rex eating somebody, you've been through a lot of Octobers.

[It's honestly unfair that a thunderclap doesn't occur when the word October is said, considering the sinister reputation the month's acquired in town. But hey. Maybe they won't have to go through another one, if this shit keeps going. God, please, he doesn't want to go through another month of sleepless nights and blood coming from the walls while the town is falling apart on them.]

Yeah, well, we're not in Derry anymore, maybe doing nothing's just going to result in like—us ending up somewhere else again. And as long as I'm with you, I don't care where we end up. [If it means going to whatever hell there is for people who don't do anything when they have a chance to save the world, then Richie will take it. It's selfish, he knows, but right at this moment he honestly doesn't care.] Anyway, like you said, we have time. I'll keep an eye on the network, see the arguments.

[There's a silence, as Richie hunches in on himself a little.]

Eddie. [He sounds so heartbroken and sad, that it's his stupid fear that got Eddie thinking like that. He shakes his head.] You're not, okay? You're not a—a dirty little secret, not to me. [The clown's taunting cadence comes back to Richie then, and he shivers.] I love you. I'm not ashamed of you. I'm just scared the wrong person'll find out and—

[He stops. Huffs out a breath.]

It's fucking stupid to be scared, I know, when it feels like half the town is queer. But Derry wasn't. Or if it was, and anyone knew, then...

[He trails off again, chewing on his lower lip. The 1950s were no picnic, certainly, but neither were the 1980s, with stories of people catching AIDS rolling through Derry. How many times has Richie overheard someone in church, tutting disapprovingly about how it was a matter of time before someone else they knew caught it? And then there's people like Bowers, and people worse than Bowers too.]

You're not—wrong, that I'm not ready to tell more people about it. I mean, Jesus, I was fucking terrified telling you, and the first time I did come out at all, it was 'cause Caleb just saw a fucking memory about it. O didn't really have a choice in the matter then. [He pauses.] But I love you. And I'm working on it, I promise. There's a few people who know that I told without having to be forced into it.

[Not a lot, because it's the kind of thing Richie keeps under wraps until he knows for certain it's safe. But enough. He squeezes Eddie's hand, gently.]

Just...please don't think I'm ashamed of you, Eds. You're the best guy I know. I'm always proud of you. [And here, a gentle press to the corner of Eddie's mouth.]

Wow, now I wish I'd taken that kitschy tourist attraction asshole up when I asked for date ideas on the network. If I'd known all I had to do to be called dreamy was to save your ass from terrifying shit I woulda taken you to his fuckin' creepy Murder Hut just to save you in case he did try to kill us.

tw internalized homophobia, mention of homophobic violence & aids + slur + self-esteem

[clussy]

I won't look at it too closely.

(He really wouldn't either. He didn't want to see Richie dying anytime soon, but he didn't want that ghost lingering around either way more. Richie shouldn't have to see it.)

Maybe. But I haven't seen you getting killed like that which is a worse thought than every October combined.

(Because it was Richie. Even if it had been a gentler death, it would be worse.)

Okay. You tell me when you decide. We'll keep 'em all safe for now.

(Eddie already knew resolutely what he wanted to do, but Richie was the only person alive that could convince him to do anything else. God knows that one pro-lifer chick had only cemented some of his decisions. There were too many people here who hadn't been here nearly long enough to know what the fuck they were talking about and Eddie felt icy and didn't want to hear about their stupid half-baked theories. Then again, he was just in a prickly mood lately. Too much to lose, too much to set him on edge. The only people he was soft around anymore were Richie, Shiro, Varian, and Will. And hell, even then, it was mostly just Richie.

Eddie almost feels guilty for even admitting to why he had been upset. A quick apology bubbles up in his throat and it reminds him vaguely of how he used to beg for forgiveness to his mother. Richie wasn't his mom - he was a far cry from Sonia Kaspbrak, and Richie would let him be upset if he needed to be upset. So he chokes that apology down with a deep swallow and watches Richie with wide, caged eyes.

The reassurance felt good to hear, even if there was still some uncomfortable quivering just beneath the skin. He looks away from Richie when he admits he's scared and he feels a hot, intense combination of shame, guilt, and anger. Derry was always going to haunt them no matter how far away they ran from it.)

I'm scared too, you know. I don't think you think I am. I've only really told a few people but most other people here found out because of circumstances. Or because I'm flamboyant and they put it together.

(Because, let's be real, living with Chloe had given him a lot more confidence than he used to have in dressing how he wanted and he sure as hell didn't tend to dress like a conventionally heterosexual, heternormative young boy. Kid wasn't in skirts, but man-.)

But I still am scared. I guess what helps is knowing I'm also dangerous now. I have things around me that are dangerous. People here can still be fucked up - or the townsfolk were anyway, but it's a lot less appealing to terrorize the faggot with a possessed car or a giant fucking wolf hanging around.

(Confidence, again, or assurance anyway. No, the 80s definitely wasn't a picnic. His textbooks told him as much and that was about the only education he bothered with anymore besides medical.)

I'm sorry. I think I just got caught up in the fantasy of finally being with you that I forgot about the reality of being with you. (Any guy, really, but Richie especially. He had thought it would be easy to stay closeted with Richie, but turns out he was sick of the whole closet and he just wanted to be with Richie. He gives Richie a tight, uncomfortable smile, because he believed Richie with a lot of things, but he wasn't so sure why anyone would be proud of Eddie. Especially not in this way. He can't even be bothered to say anything at all, his throat feeling too tight, letting the kiss happen, hoping the anxiety would unwind itself.

It wasn't - It wasn't great. Some part of him still wondered if shame had anything to do with it. And mostly because he used to feel so ashamed and he knew that had guided him more than he liked to admit.)

Well. Okay. I'll be around, obviously. Take your time, man. I'll try to- (He searches for a fair word, a fair term.)

I'll always be here for you, okay? No pressure. We can take a few steps back. (Which kind of sucked to say, but he really didn't want to guilt Richie out of the closet or rush. He felt a wobbling disappointment that he didn't know what to do with because it half made him want to cry. But he also thought he was also emotionally worn down to nothing given everything going on. He huddles in close against Richie and presses his face against his neck for the sheer relief of not having to fake any expressions. He gives a small nod.)

I've probably got a complex with you or something. I don't think there's much you do that I don't swoon over in some way. It's stupid.