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There were too many people in the library today, Richie thought to himself. He’d been hiding in there most of the day. He had straight A’s, what did going to class matter? Richie bounced between the library and the music room on days like this. He preferred to spend his free time playing guitar, reading, or teasing his friends. (For “teasing” read harassing, and for “friends” read Eddie.) The choir was in the music room today so he’d had no choice but to come to the library. Unless he wanted to be begged to join the choir by the choir director. So he dragged his tired body to the library and planted himself in one of the too-small chairs. Richie couldn’t complain too much about the size of the chairs, it wasn’t the school's fault he was weird and long. (Plus they were the only chairs in his favorite corner.)
Anyone who passed Richie would assume he was extremely invested in taking notes. In reality, he was fully immersed in the music coming from his iPod, making a list as he listened. The school was hosting a fundraiser for the local animal shelter. (Richie had a soft spot for animals, so what?) The choir director had a few people sign up, but she had been trying to get Richie to audition for weeks.
He figured they were desperate.
They had even asked Bill, and he sounded like a cat being tossed in a wood chipper when he sang. Desperate or not the old hag had worn him down. Richie said yes, and now he was struggling to find the perfect song. There were so many songs he could think of that were well within his wheelhouse. None of them meant what Richie wanted them too, it made him frustrated. On the other hand, did he really want to get too personal? Richie thought about it for a moment and decided that, yes he did want to get personal. He specifically wanted to get personal with his best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak.
Eds put up with all of Richie’s shit, he meant a lot to him. Stan put up with his problematic ass too, but Richie hadn’t fallen ass over fucking tea kettle for him.
There was just something about Eddie’s snippy comebacks that felt more like a verbal spar than the tongue lashings he frequently got from Stan. Putting up with Richie’s shit was a goddamn sport, and Eddie excelled at sports. Speaking of Eddie and sports, Richie could see him from the window perfectly placed in his corner. Eddie was on the field doing warm-up laps with the rest of the soccer team. He was in his element. Eddie Kaspbrak in his element was a sight to behold, his face lit up whenever he was on the field.
-
It was Mike who convinced them to try out for a few of the school's sports teams. Eddie wouldn’t go unless Richie did, who could say no to that face? None of the other fuckers mattered, except Eddie. Eddie made it through tryouts with ease, in the end, he had his pick of sports teams. (His mother was none too pleased, and would spend the next few years trying to make him quit.) Richie was a complete disaster. Who knew tripping and dumping the water cooler on the coach would get him banned from high school sports teams? In his defense, Eddie had been walking beside him, eyes wide with excitement. Happy Eddie always made him extra jittery.
Sometimes Richie wished he could just suck it up and tell Eddie how he felt. Bev would just tell him to put on his fucking big girl pants and stop being a little bitch. He tried a few times before, then Eddie would smile at him and Richie would be a goner. Everything Eddie did made him flustered. He could be screaming at Richie for making another joke about his crazy mom, and Richie would shut down. It would be fine if a Richie Tozier shut down was the same as a normal person. However, much to the dismay of his friends, he just became even more of a trash mouth (if that was even possible). Richie couldn’t help it, Eddie made him nervous in ways he hadn’t been prepared for.
Music was really the only thing that calmed his nerves. Unfortunately for the losers, this meant Richie often screeched along to whatever they were playing at the time. It eased the tension and made Eddie laugh. Richie making Eddie genuinely laugh seemed like a phenomenon that happened few and far between - at least to the other losers.
Eddie cringed whenever Richie screamed, rather than sang. He and Stan had been to every one of Richie’s recitals since sixth grade. They knew Richie could sing. It was more for fun than anything, singing properly never seemed to make his friends laugh nearly as much. Richie played guitar for the losers sometimes. They would make him play any song that they could think of. (It usually turned into a song comprised of jokes about Eddie’s mom.) He also played piano, he kept to himself. Richie never told Eddie or Stan about his piano recitals.
Richie saved piano for songs that really meant something. He played when his anxiety got bad when he felt the loneliness creep in. Richie played when his love for Eddie became too much to handle. The sweetest music came when he played from the heart. After all, Richie had been expressing himself through music longer than he’d been fucking Eddie’s mom.
Richie had taken to tapping his fingers to the beat of whatever song was playing. He was, almost, half done his quest to find the perfect song. So far he had chosen his audition song, Not What I Meant by Dodie (a guilty pleasure of his. Ben introduced him to her music and Richie fell in love). Now all he had to do was somehow convince Bev to audition with him. It would be hard to sell Bev on the audition. If Richie played his cards right, maybe brought up the animals? He would be fucking golden. The next best option would be to talk to Ben if anyone could convince Bev it would be him. Richie thought about asking the whole group if they’d join. Then, he remembered most of them were musically challenged. Bev and Mike were hands down, the most musical of the rest of the losers. Stan could play a couple of instruments, and Ben’s enthusiasm almost made up for the fact that he was comically tone-deaf.
All in all, the losers were kinda fifty-fifty when it came to this shit.
Ben had talked to Bev almost as soon as Richie asked. She reluctantly agreed. Bev was much more comfortable with it once Richie said they’d be auditioning together. Richie had attempted to convince the choir director to leave him and Bev as a partner act. Of course, she had not relented. She instead insisted that they prepare solos and come back the following week. The only thing that mattered now was finding his second song.
So, here Richie was, painstakingly searching. (Still.)
He had since migrated to a different spot in the library. By the time Eddie and Stan came to collect him for their walk home, he had it narrowed down to two songs. The first of which he and Bev had come across during one of their frequent sleepovers (it was before Bev and Ben got together; both she and Richie had been pining hard). The song was called feelings are fatal, by mxmtoon - they were being overly dramatic, as usual.
The other was Best Friend by Rex Orange County. Richie found himself hesitant to sing it. It was one of his favorite songs, the lyrics meant almost too much to Richie. They made him think of Eddie. There was no way Eddie wouldn’t know Richie was singing about him.
Richie made up his mind. If he was going to ruin the friendship he would do it with pride. Richie would absolutely kill the song. (If the nerves didn’t kill him first.)
-
Richie fully expected to pass the fuck out before he even got to the stage. He still had a few moments left to panic until it was his turn. Bev had been the second person up, she had flawlessly performed idontwannabeyouanymore by Billie Eilish. (Well, what of it he’d actually heard sounded flawless.) Richie tried to listen to all of it but was distracted by trying to remember his lyrics. Would he play the wrong chords or maybe drop his guitar all together? If that was the case, it was going to be an absolute shit show. It was Richie, chances were, it would be a shit show no matter what. As of now the only loser that knew he had signed up for this shit was Bev. In the moments that lead up to Richie getting on stage, he suddenly felt as though he couldn’t breathe. Eddie would know, everyone would know how completely, uselessly in fucking love with him Richie was.
For whatever godforsaken reason the teacher running this disaster had decided he, Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier, should close the show. It wasn’t like his song was going to make more of an impact than the others. Richie was only going to be confessing his long-standing crush on his best friend. No big deal. The more time Richie had to think about it the more he felt his heart pounding in his chest. All he could do was wheeze a little and pretend that he was ready. Bev was lurking behind him and it looked like she was getting ready to give him a pep talk. Son of a bitch, Richie thought to himself, did he really look that nervous? Something told him that, yes, he did look that nervous.
"-final act of the night. Please welcome, Richie Tozier!"
Shit, it was time. Richie was jerked out of his stupor by Bev, who shoved him towards the stage. He just managed to get a grasp on his guitar that was being thrust into his shaky hands, when he stumbled on stage.
"Hey! Um, I'm R-Richie, my friends call me Trashmouth. I got roped into this shi-" the choir director pointedly cleared her throat. "-stuff. Anyways, it's a good opportunity to show up these other losers, so here we go! This is um, Best Friend by Rex Orange County."
I should've stayed at home
'Cause right now I see all these people that love me
But I still feel alone
Can't help but check my phone
Bev, who had made her way into the audience, perked up in recognition. She of all people knew what this song meant. Richie hadn't told her what song he chose, just that he had chosen a song. She practically beamed up at him, shooting him a cheesy thumbs-up. Richie settled into the music and finally made eye contact with the audience.
I could've made you mine
But no, it wasn't meant to be and see, I wasn't made for you
And you weren't made for me
Though it seemed so easy
Richie swayed and expertly plucked the strings of his well-loved guitar. He sent a cocky smile to his friends. Stan rolled his eyes but had his soft, proud dad smile. Mike was bobbing to the music and waved at Richie. Bill, Bev, and Ben were screaming along and "dancing". (If flailing violently could be considered dancing, Bill wasn't the most coordinated.) Richie's eyes found Eddie just in time to see the reality of the situation hit him. His eyes got impossibly wide, it looked like he was frozen.
And that's because I wanna be your favorite boy
I wanna be the one that makes your day
The one you think about as you lie awake
I can't wait to be your number one
I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine
Richie almost wanted to cry when he saw the look on Eddie's face. Sure, he knew it was possible that Eddie didn't like him back, but he had hoped he wouldn't have to entertain that idea. Richie's eyes made their way back to the other losers, Bev in particular who was inching her way towards Eddie. He looked like he'd calmed down a little bit at least.
But I still wanna break your heart and make you cry
But won't you wait
You know it's too late
I'm on my own shit now
Bev was whispering something in Eddie's ear and he nodded in response. Richie couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away just yet.
Let me tell you how it feels to be fucking great
I feel great
Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah
Eddie seemed to be pointedly avoiding looking at the stage, at Richie. Richie decided he couldn't take it and turned his attention back to his guitar. Throwing himself into music was something Richie excelled at. Especially when it came to his feelings for one Eddie Kaspbrak.
You need to be yourself
Love someone for loving you instead of someone really cool
That makes your heart melt
Who knows what you truly felt?
He watched his fingers for a few moments, saw how effortlessly they played the right chords. Richie wished everything he did could be this effortless. Making his way to the front of the stage he reached out to his friends who had moved closer at some point. Ben grinned and gripped his fingers for a few seconds. Mike fist-bumped him awkwardly and nudged Stan, who reluctantly high fived Richie's outstretched hand.
You're still my favorite boy
You better trust me when I tell you
There ain't no one else more beautiful in this damn world
In this damn world
Richie didn’t dare look over at Eddie for fear of seeing that look on his face. He wasn’t sure he could handle it if his feelings made Eddie panic like that.
You're gonna wanna be my best friend, baby
You're gonna wanna be my best friend
I said that
He watched Ben wander over to Bev, who was still whispering to Eddie. Eddie was shaking his head almost violently. Whatever Bev was saying to him, he didn't want to hear it.
You're gonna wanna be my best friend, baby
You're gonna wanna be my best friend (best friend)
Richie saw Eddie inching toward the doors and felt his chest constrict painfully. This was not how he wanted this to go.
You're gonna wanna be my best friend, baby
You're gonna wanna be my best friend
Best friend
God he wished he could turn back time and change his mind about doing this stupid fundraiser. Richie thought he could handle it if Eddie didn't return his feelings. Turns out Richie is every bit the little bitch Bev would call him out for being.
You're gonna wanna be my best friend, baby
You're gonna wanna be my best friend
Eddie would avoid him forever. Was it worth ruining their friendship over Richie's fucking crush?
I say that I'm happy
I say that I'm happy
But no, no, no, no
No, no, no, oh
The closer Eddie got to the door the more Richie’s heart hurt. He had done that, it was his fault that Eddie didn’t feel safe in the room.
I still wanna be your favorite boy
I wanna be the one that makes your day
The one you think about as you lie awake
And I can't wait to be your number, your number one
Richie had closed his eyes at some point, fingers instinctually plucking out the correct chords and notes. His voice was strong, full of almost too much emotion. The audience could feel his anxiety in the air. Electric and contagious.
I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine
But I still wanna break your heart and make you cry
I love you, Richie thought, and I’m so sorry. He never thought it would be this bad, but that was his problem, wasn’t it? He never thought.
I still wanna be your favorite boy
I wanna be the one
The door opened and slammed shut in one anxious breath.
I might just be the one
Eddie was gone, and Richie’s heart couldn’t take anymore.
-
If anyone had told Eddie Kaspbrak this was how today was going to go, he would have laughed. Not once did he think his day would include Trashmouth™ confessing his "love" through song. Richie once told him and Stan that when he played anything properly, he chose music that meant something to him. So when Eddie heard the opening notes to their song, well, he fucking panicked. He'd been so in love with Richie for so long that he didn't want to get his hopes up. Bev had tried telling him to stay, to really listen to what Richie was saying. But, in the end, Eddie just couldn't do it. He just wanted to get away before his heart got broken by a boy who probably didn't even know what love was. No, that wasn't fair. Richie knew how to love and he loved fiercely. All of the losers had been on the receiving end of his love, in one way or another.
Eddie supposed he was afraid to be loved that unabashedly by someone. What if he didn't or couldn't, love Richie as much as Richie loved him? Or what if Richie didn't or couldn't love him that much? What if they tried, it all fell apart and they ruined their friendship for nothing? Richie didn't date as far as Eddie has seen. Eddie dated a boy their first-year-old high school but that was the extent of his experience. Sure they had kissed but they hadn't lasted long enough for him to really understand dating. Richie made it seem like he had all this sexual experience under his belt, which made Eddie uneasy. He wasn't disgusted by it, but it made him feel as though he wouldn't be enough for Richie. He knew it was stupid but he couldn't help it. Richie made him weak in ways he didn't think were possible. Sometimes when Richie looked at him it felt like he was having an asthma attack. If their hands brushed against one an others it felt like he was being pleasantly electrocuted. Despite being tall and bony, Richie's hugs were warm and felt like home.
Eddie really wasn't prepared to lose that connection he had with Richie. How sad was it that his sense of home came from his too tall, loudmouth of a best friend? Richie just brightened everything and Eddie looked forward to it. (So did Stan, even though he would never in a million years admit it.) There was just something about Richie that made him hard to ignore. Yes, he was loud and brash, but that wasn’t all there was to it. Richie was an enigma if Eddie had ever seen one. He was crude and annoying, he made the worst jokes, usually about Eddie’s mom. If it wasn’t for the fact that they were jokes about fucking her, Eddie would almost find them funny. The truth was, Richie was funny. It just sometimes felt like telling him that would make his ego even bigger. Maybe that wasn’t the truth either, based on today Eddie wasn’t sure if he really knew his best friend at all.
Eddie hadn't realized how far he'd really gone. He remembered slamming the gymnasium doors shut, but not much else. Now he was standing less than a block away from his house. Hopefully, his mom would leave him alone for once. Richie wasn't exactly wrong when he called her crazy. After everything, he didn't think he could handle her brand of "love". It felt like she was trying to suffocate him. When Eddie reached his driveway he was lucky enough for his mother's car to be gone. He unlocked the door as quickly as possible and practically ran inside. The kitchen was his first stop, mostly for a snack, but also to see if the sea witch had left a note. She had. It was the typical "Take your meds, Eddie bear, I love you. Call me seventeen times a day." note. The only difference was the time she was going to be away. (The longest she'd ever been away from this far was two days, but the note said she would be gone a whole week. That meant a week of freedom, well as much freedom as calling your mother every twenty-thirty minutes could give you.) Eddie was looking forward to it, the freedom, not the damn phone calls.
-
Eddie puttered around the house for a few hours, pacing, trying to study. Anything to get his mind off what happened that afternoon. Hadn't he thought about it enough? Richie didn't mean it the way Eddie wanted him to, knowing him he probably didn't even know what he was confessing when he sang their song. It was fine that Trashmouth Tozier didn't love him back. It really was, or at least that's what Eddie tried to convince himself when he climbed into bed later that night and let the tears come. He sobbed so loudly he almost missed the sound of pebbles hitting his window. Who the fuck was throwing things at his window at ass o'clock? If it was Bowers he would be surprised because Eddie didn't think Bowers would go to that much effort. By the time the tenth rock pinged off his window Eddie angrily crawled out of bed and wrenched open his window. He inhaled, ready to unleash his wrath on an unsuspecting moron, and wheezed pathetically instead. There, underneath his window, like some shitty teen romcom was Richie. He had his guitar with him.
"Richie! What the fuck are you doing? Do you even know what time it is you fucking soggy walnut?" Eddie growled leaning partially put the window. He saw Richie's eyes widen dramatically.
"Whoa, Eds-Eddie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or whatever it is that I did. Look, it's fucking cold out here, my wang is gonna off. Can I come in? Your mom's car isn't here." Richie sighed. He looked defeated, which was something you didn't see from him often. Eddie bit his lip, weighed the pros and cons, (Pro: He and Richie could be alone in his bedroom. Con: He and Richie would be alone in his bedroom ) and nodded to himself.
"Come to the front door, dipshit, I'll let you in." Eddie sighed. He tried to seem unphased but he was shaking like a chihuahua. Eddie looked through the peephole and saw Richie's long body and stupidly uncoordinated clothes. He took deep breaths, flailed for a moment and then composed himself. Once composed he put on a blank face and opened the door.
"Get the fuck in here before I change my mind. Not because I care about your dick, but because I don't want to listen to you whine." Eddie huffed. Richie scrambled to get inside, nearly knocking Eddie over with his guitar.
"Thank you, I know it's late and that you probably have better things to do but I saw you leave and I-" Richie inhaled sharply. "I wanted to know why you left, I guess? I didn't think I sounded that bad." He laughed but it wasn't a real laugh.
"Why that song? Why now? Do you even-Do you know what that song means for us? What it means for me?" Eddie whispered, words catching in his throat. He wrapped his arms around himself, backing away a little bit. Eddie wasn't scared of Richie, but he was scared of the outcome of this situation.
"I know exactly what that song means to and for us. I chose it for that reason. I know you guys think I'm fucking dumb because I'm loud, but I'm not. I've been in love with you since we were ten years old. Those six years have felt like for-fucking-ever." Richie was pacing and violently running his hands through his hair. "I guess, I just thought you loved me too. That maybe you felt the same way as I do. It feels like hell when we aren't together, but it feels like I can't breathe right when we are." He chuckled wetly. Richie sniffled, feeling the tears make their way down his face. Richie sighed, giving up and flopping on the couch. He patted the spot beside him in hopes that Eddie would take the hint. Eddie slowly inched forward, finally sitting in the offered spot gingerly.
“What.” Eddie croaked, overcome by emotions. What the fuck did Richie want?
“I don’t think what I sang got through to you the way I was hoping. If you’ll let me, I’d like to play you something else. If you don’t want to listen to that’s fine, but I’m asking that you hear me out.” Richie pleaded. Eddie was fully prepared to send Richie away and spend the rest of the night crying himself to sleep. Until he really looked at Richie’s face, he looked so earnest, so completely unlike himself. At that moment, Eddie decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He nodded at Richie, settling his body further into the couch.
Once Richie realized Eddie had actually agreed he scrambled for his guitar. There was a chance that he would change his mind. Richie took a deep breath, positioned his fingers on the fretboard and started to strum. He played through the short intro, locked eyes with Eddie and sang.
It's not that easy with you here
But I know I want you to stay
See this could be us in a few years
But just admit you like to play
There was nothing to distract him from giving all his attention to Richie. Which was both a blessing and a curse.
It's like every day
I'm kicking rocks.
I could fly away
but you got me at a complete stop
How do you
manage to keep me going
but somehow you keep me from going
This performance was just as precise and breathtaking as everything else Richie did. There was more depth to it though, almost like he- oh.
See you distract me, but I'm distracted without you
I don't know how to focus baby teach me how to
Cause I'm standing still again
But if you love me, just like the way that I love you
I wouldn't mind a little comforting from you
Why do I let you in my head?
Eddie prided himself on his observational skills, but apparently they were way off the mark today. Was this what he meant to say earlier? Because if it was, holy fuck , was he dumb. Eddie almost groaned in frustration.
And I gotta go sometimes, but you're always on my mind
You're not helping me
You're not helping me
You're not helping me
You're not helping me
You're not helping me
But I helplessly fall, for you
Fuck , he was so in love with this poorly dressed Trashmouth. Could he even call Richie that right now, when he was being so sincere? Eddie wanted to kiss him so badly, he always did, but there was something about Richie sitting on his couch with a guitar. This time Eddie did groan.
Now I'm running late
And I'm not a coffee drinker
But I lost sleep just thinking of you
So pour me a cup
I need to wake up
I need me some love
Now give it to-
Eddie pounced, attaching his lips to Richie's and knocking the guitar to the floor. There they were, laying on the couch in a heap and having the time of their lives. Just as Richie went to readjust Eddie pulled away. He frowned until Eddie pressed his forehead to Richie's.
"I love you. I'm sorry I was a little slow." Eddie whispered sheepishly. His face crimson and Richie could feel the heat radiating from his face. It was cute, Eddie was cute. But most importantly.
"I love you too," Richie replied, pulling Eddie back on top of him. Eddie let out a small squeak but let himself be manhandled. Eddie settled, placing his head in the crook of Richie's neck. A perfect fit.
-
It was graduation day, the most stressful time, aside from exams and college applications of course. Richie had managed to lose Eddie in the sea of seniors. He wouldn't be surprised if Eddie's mom had kidnapped him so that he wouldn't be able to leave her. Richie found that wasn't the case when he came across him sitting in the choir room alone.
"You look like you're struggling mentally there Eds, you good?" Richie joked dragging a plastic chair over to Eddie.
"Beep Beep Richie," Eddie grumbled, curling in on himself. Wow, it had been a long time since anyone had said those words. Not because he got better about keeping his mouth shut, but because they'd graduated to "Shut the fuck up Richie." instead.
"C'mon Eddie, tell me what's wrong." Richie sighed. He had gotten better at being serious when he needed to be, and right now Eddie needed serious. Richie saw Eddie's nose scrunch up adorably, the way it often did when anyone asked what was wrong.
Eddie mumbled to himself to a brief moment before unfolding himself and scooting closer to Richie. He held out his arms expectantly. Richie leaned over to give him the best hug possible while sitting down.
"This is our last day here, at the school, I mean. We have so many memories, some are bad, of course. But so many of them I want to carry with me, I guess I'm worried about what the future holds?" Eddie admitted, biting his lip. "This room alone holds so many memories, for you, and for me. I just want to hold onto everything and moving forward means leaving things behind, I don't know if I'm ready for that."
Richie smiled the soft smile he reserved for Eddie. He wished he could hold on too. Letting go of all of this felt like leaving behind his childhood. Did Richie even know how to be an adult? He locked eyes with Eddie, the same way he did on that night two years ago. The same intensity, the same love, but somehow stronger.
Eddie stood, grabbing Richie's hand and dragging him along. They stopped in front of the grand piano, the choir director had kept it in pristine condition. He sat, pulling Richie down with him. Richie was confused for a moment, had Eddie learned how to play? (He'd begged Richie to reach him but they'd soon found that Eddie didn't have the patience for piano.)
"Will you play for me?" Eddie asked, gazing at him imploringly. Richie had never been able to deny Eddie anything. So, naturally, he shifted into the proper position and placed his fingers on the keys.
"Any requests, my good sir?" Richie questioned in his very poor British guy accent. Eddie rolled his eyes but leaned into Richie's side nonetheless.
"You know which song, Richie." He mumbled, closing his eyes in anticipation. Richie laughed softly.
"Anything for you, my love," Richie whispered.
I met you in the dark, you lit me up