Seven hours and forty-seven minutes later -- Eddie had timed it -- he was there. Flying hadn't been as bad as he expected, save for the impatience that left him jittery and unfocused, and for the ache in his chest that had started growing with every sweet thing Bill said to him. He was desperate to be there, to be together, and once that plane finally landed, Eddie didn't waste a second. He packed too much (he always did, but in this case, Eddie packed like he was packing forever), and found himself stalled by the baggage claim, breathing too fast and too shallow to really satiate his lungs. He missed his case the first time around, but the second -- the second time, Eddie was ready to snatch it as soon as it was close enough, lugging his bag through masses of people towards the airport's exit. Eddie went through one set of doors, then another, his heart beating faster and faster until it seemed to give out altogether. Because Bill was there. Eddie spotted him weaving through the crowd and he suddenly felt like he was ten years old again, filled with a newfound sense of energy. Bill was right there, waiting for him.
After all that time -- all those lonely, boring years -- Eddie couldn't wait any longer. He loosened his grip on his suitcase and he bolted, leaving his luggage behind so he could hoist himself over a dividing bar and get to Bill that much faster.
He was grinning like a fool, so big it dug his dimple deep in. Eddie didn't stumble or falter or hesitate, grabbing on to Bill as soon as he saw him. There was so much he wanted to say and do and ask, but in that moment, nothing felt more important than just having Bill tight in his arms, and keeping him there for as long as he possibly could. "Hi," he breathed, so instantly comforted by the other's presence.
@scribedhorror