Chapter 1: Sloppy kisses and ackward conversations
Notes:
“What if a girl kisses us and we don’t know what to do?” There was a hint of worry in his voice. Richie looked genuinely startled; he had no idea where this was coming from.
“I don’t know, Eds. What do you wanna do, practice?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, but could feel a drop of sweat running down his forehead. His heart seemed about to fail him any second now.
“Maybe”
“Excuse me now?”Disclamer: i've just finished reading 'Crossed eyed and painless' by bellbawttoms and i geniunley now consider Margaret and Jude canon, so they'll be featuring in this story too. Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
I picked you up from the corner store
Your eyes were red and your lips were torn
So much to say that's subject-sore
So much you'd change since you were born
You wrapped your fingers around my neck
And pulled me into your desperate breath
The way you kissed me hot and fast
I knew it'd be the last
Don't leave me hangin' alone again
Don't leave me hangin' alone again
Oh, where'd you go, go, Alley Rose?
Oh, where'd you go, go, go?
You told me, "I'm just so nervous, dear"
Well, how the hell do you think I feel?
I waited all year at your feet
Like maybe you'd love me
So
Don't leave me hangin' alone again
Don't leave me hangin' alone again
Oh, where'd you go, go, Alley Rose?
Oh, where'd you go, go, go?
And I don't even care
If it makes me sound insane
I ran my fingers through your hair
And I thanked God to touch the flame
'Cause I swore necks were made for bruisin'
I swore lips were made for lies
And I thought if you'd ever leave me
That I'd be the reason why
And I don't even care
If it's just a summer fling
If it's all experimental
And you go back to safer things
But I swore hands were made for fighting
I swore eyes were made to cry
But you're the first person that I've seen
Who's proven that might be a lie
So
Don't leave me hangin' alone again
Don't leave me hangin'
Oh, where'd you go, go, Alley Rose?
Oh, where'd you go, go, go?
Oh
Don't leave me hangin' alone again
Don't leave me hangin' alone again
Oh, where'd you go, go, Alley Rose?
Oh, where'd you go, go, go?
Don't leave me hangin' alone again
I thought that I was your only friend
Oh, where'd you go, go, Alley Rose?
Oh, where'd you go, go, go?
It had finally happened. Years of pinning, of stolen glances, of lazy fights just as an excuse to touch each other, flushed cheeks at the quarry and silent desire had finally come to- well, whatever this was.
It was a July night, a humid one that made both boy’s bodies feel sticky and hot. The hooting of a distant owl could be heard from the outside of Eddie’s window, and the soft song of the crickets accompanied them in the background.
Richie was on top of Eddie, elbows propped against the soft mattress of his bed. Eddie’s hands had somehow managed to find Richie’s hair and rested there, fingers sunken in the other boy’s dark curls. They would talk in whispers, afraid Sonia would hear Richie and storm into the room like a maniac, though that hadn’t happened. Yet.
See, this wasn’t the first time Richie had thrown pebbles at Eddie’s window as if he were some love interest in a coming of age movie. Wasn’t the first time his steady gaze had startled Eddie when he had looked out the window just to find him there, perched on the tree that stood under Eddie’s window (which Sonia happily watered every day, not knowing she was helping grow the ladder that horrible Tozier boy would use to sneak into her precious son’s bedroom while she loudly slept in front of the TV). Wasn’t the first time he had climbed inside Eddie’s room, lips would find lips and hands would find their way up a shirt or into a messy mop of hair.
No, it wasn’t the first time. The first time had been about a month ago, an afternoon they had been at the secret hideout. All the losers were there; it was, after all, the first day of summer vacation. They all animatedly planned the summer up ahead: movie nights at Bill’s house, swims at the quarry, visiting the new mall that had just opened at the outskirts of Derry. Richie languidly laid in the hammock someone had put up long ago; probably Ben, he thought, distractedly. He was reading a comic book Stan had let him borrow, carefully passing each thin newsprint page, while tuning out the conversation happening in front of him. His parents didn’t really care what he did during summer vacation, so long as he didn’t bother any family members, especially his older sister, and didn’t really have a curfew either. Richie’s parents were cool like that: they granted their only son a type of freedom the rest of the losers could only dream about. Therefore, he didn’t really mind whatever they were planning to do. Richie would go along with any plan as long as he wasn't left home alone (which he hated with burning passion. Loneliness and Richie Tozier did not get along.)
Eddie, on the other hand, kept rambling about what his mum would and would not let him do. He had more or less mastered the art of lying to her face (and would definitely improve it in the following month), so he didn’t really have to tell her exactly where they were or were not going, but there were some things like curfew hours and lunch time he couldn’t simply ignore.
“I mean, you could always just lie and say you’re staying at Richie’s for lunch” Beverly Marsh was saying, her fiery curls looking dull under the poor lightning of the hideout.
“Yeah right. Sonia Kasbrak letting her precious Eddie bear eat at the disgusting Tozier boy’s house?” exclaimed Richie, barely looking up from the comic book. “Shiver me timbers, what if I poison him by feeding him some crab? Or worse, what if our filthy health habits make him-”
“Shut up Richie” jumped Eddie, turning around and throwing him an angry look. “He’s right though.” He added, looking at Beverly “My mum would never let me go to Richie’s house for lunch. She hates the whole bunch of them.”
“You could always say you’re at mine” spoke Stan. He was wearing a shower cap, all strands of his hair neatly covered. Richie had laughed like a maniac when Stan had showed up wearing it, but he had been undaunted. “Your mum likes me well enough, I think.”
Eddie nodded “yeah, yeah, that could work. But what if she phone’s your parents?”
Stan pulled a sour expression. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“What a-a-about mine?” Chimed Bill. “I’ll j-just t-t-tell my parents to lie. Th-they don’t c-c-care.”
Anyone who didn’t know stuttering Bill would have easily missed the sad and hurt look in his eyes when he had added that last bit. Bev, who happened to be sitting beside him,perched on top of a wooden box that worked as a chair, squeezed his arm lightly in a gesture of comfort.
Eddie smiled slightly. “Thanks, Big Bill.”
At some point in the afternoon, Bev had left the hideout to have a smoke, and Ben had purposefully followed her outside. Bill, Stan and Mike had started an agitated discussion about what superpower would be more useful in the real world, to which Richie interrupted from time to time with superfluous comments.
“Move, Rich,” Eddie demanded. Richie looked up to find the smaller boy standing over him, arms crossed and eyes fiery with annoyance. Some people would say Eddie and Richie didn’t get along. In fact, some might have even said that Eddie hated Richie, just by analyzing the way he spoke to him or how he reacted to the moronic bullshit Richie spat out 24/7. These people would be, however, incredibly wrong, and would have missed the entire Richie-Eddie dynamic they had going on since, well, forever. Richie would tease Eddie, who honestly just had a very short fume, and he would answer back in an explosive demeanor. Their back and forth bickering could go on forever if any of the other losers didn’t make it come to an end.
“You’re hogging the hammock, dude. It 's my turn.”
Richie grinned, still looking up. “My dear Eds, I'm far too comfortable to move just because your precious ass wants to test the comfort of the hammock too.”
“My precious what now?” sputtered Eddie. “No, no! We talked about this before, Trashmouth. Ten minutes each. Your ten minutes are up.”
Richie glanced around, a fake look of curiosity on his face. “I don’t see any sign.”
“Are we really doing this again? No. No way. Out.”
Richie innocently stared up at him, a grin still pulling at the ends of his mouth. “Out? Oh that reminds me what your mother wanted me to pull out of my pants last night. She was all ‘ pull it out Richie! Ohh pull it out! I wanna see your massive dick!’”
Eddie’s face contorted into a disgust look. “That 's it. Fucking move it, trashmouth” and with that said, he climbed into the hammock were Richie was still sprawled in, propping his feet the opposit direction of Richie's. He covered his head with the comic book for protection while Eddie’s legs scrambled to get inside. Stan yelped something about the comic, probably in the lines of Richie be careful for fucks sake or i’ll fucking murder you if you rip it . He hold it up, away from Eddie's kicks and swats.
Once Eddie managed to get inside the hammock, he pulled the comic book out of Richie’s hands and smacked him lightly in the face with his socked foot. He smirked at the other boy while he opened the magazine and started reading it, leaving Richie empty handed and astonished.
He swept another one from the pile that laid beside the hammock, probably Bill’s. When Ben had first taken them to the clubhouse, they had all agreed to bring games, comic books and a radio to spend the time down there. The pile of magazines were a mix of Bill’s, Eddie’s, Richie’s, Stan’s and Mike’s old comic strips. Bev’s parents wouldn’t let her buy any, so she only read the year old comic books that laid on the dusty floor of the hideout or the newer ones if any of the losers were to lend them to her. The radio was on at the moment, some rock song playing in the background.
Richie tried concentrating on the adventures of Captain America that laid open on his hands, but he had read the same speech bubble of Cap yelling Avengers, assemble!! at least 12 times by now. His mind kept drifting to the boy beside him, the way their bare skin touched, the jolts of electricity that went through his body each time Eddie shifted slightly. He swallowed thickly, begging to God that Eddie couldn’t hear his heart thundering loudly in his chest. The hammock was so small both bodies were practically squashed against each other. Eddie didn’t seem to mind though; peacefully, he read Stan's comic, flipping the pages as carefully as Richie had been doing a quarter of an hour before. Stan’s newer comic books were sacred; he only lent them if they made sure to take extra care of them.
The minutes passed slowly. Bev’s face poked through the hideout’s trap door at some point.
“Ben and I are leaving, it’s getting kind of late.” She said with a smile that never seemed to leave her lips. “You guys coming?”
“I think I'll stay a bit longer.” Answered Eddie, looking up from the magazine.
Mike stoop up, and after helping Bill and Stan up, he asked “You sure, Eddie? It is late. Isn’t your mum gonna- ”
“Go ballistic?” Beverly chirped, her head still poking through the clubhouse’s door-ish entrance.
“I was going to say ‘worry’, but yeah.”
“It's okay guys. I kinda had a fight with my mum so…” his voice trailed off. “Don’t really feel like going home. Yet.”
Richie sat up, worried. “You okay, Eds?”
“Oh, yeah yeah it’s fine. Just not in the mood.”
“S-suit yourself. You know w-w-where m-my house is if y-you n-eed anything.” Bill smiled, and climbed up the ladder, followed by Stan and Mike.
“I’ll stay too.” Added Richie, noticing Stan’s expecting gaze. “Can’t leave Eddie alone. What if a spider drops from the ceiling and attacks him?”
“Beep beep Rich” Bev’s muffled voice came from somewhere outside, and Richie smiled.
“See you tomorrow, guys” said Mike at last, and disappeared, closing the trap door behind him as he left.
Richie and Eddie were left alone. They continued reading in silence, and at some point Richie began to randomly turn the pages, trying to not make it too obvious he was just blankly staring at the comic, his mind suddenly unable to create coherent thoughts, let alone read.
The radio’s static melody was still playing in the background.
Every breath you take
And every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take
I'll be watching you
Eddie huffed. He left Stan’s comic on the floor and stared at Richie, who was still distractedly looking at the thin pages. Noticing Eddie’s gaze he glanced up, their eyes meeting immediately.
“How’s the comic book?” he questioned, lazily pointing at it with a flick of his wrist.
“Bullshit. Almost fell asleep. Who even likes Captain america? He’s so proper and boring.” Richie rolled his eyes, letting it drop on top of the pile.
“That’s one of mine, asshole.”
“Well fuck Eds, you have horrible taste.”
Eddie snickered and wacked him in the face, pushing Richie’s thick glasses off and making them fall somewhere. A laugh escaped Richie’s lips as he lunged forward, grabbing Eddie’s leg and pulling hard, making him sink in the hammock.
“That’s so not fair, Eds. I can’t see!” he exclaimed, a little breathless, as Eddie wrestled him to the hammock, his laugh filling Richie’s ears. They continued this back and forth banter for a while more, jostling against each other and pretending to fight. At last they stopped, panting and with their cheeks flushed from the effort. Eddie laid back down, stretching his legs and holding his arms behind his back. Richie fumbled for his glasses and finally stuck them to his face, relieved. He didn’t like the feeling of not seeing around him.
Silence fell between the two boys, though it wasn’t an awkward one. Eddie closed his eyes, humming the song from the radio, and Richie took the opportunity to gaze at his friend. Stare at his normally neatly combed, now ruffled mess of brown hair; at the hundreds of freckles splattered against his face; at his closed eyes Richie knew would be a shade of brown that reminded him of soft caramel sweets, always with a hint of annoyance but also kindness if he were to open them; stare at his lips. How many times had Richie guiltily daydreamed about kissing him? Since how long had he been waking up still feeling Eddie’s hands on his face, his lips on his lips?
Oh, can't you see
You belong to me?
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take?
“Have you ever kissed anyone, Richie?”
Richie practically choked on his own spit. He made a strangled sound and, feeling Eddie curiously staring at such an un-Richie reaction, he shakily tried to fix it. “Of course I have. Does your mum ring any bells?”
Eddie whacked him again with his socked foot, irritated. “I’m being serious, Richie!”
The other boy pulled an amused look, and finally confessed. “Nah, you know I haven't.”
“Me neither.” He dropped back into the hammock and stood still for a couple seconds before adding “what do you think it feels like?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged. Eddie seemed lost in thought, his eyes looked glassy. Richie would have killed to know what was going on in that brain of his.
“What if a girl kisses us and we don’t know what to do?” There was a hint of worry in his voice. Richie looked genuinely startled; he had no idea where this was coming from.
“I don’t know, Eds. What do you wanna do, practice?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, but could feel a drop of sweat running down his forehead. His heart seemed about to fail him any second now.
“Maybe”
“Excuse me now?”
“I mean, think about it.” He replied, slowly. “We don’t have anything to prove to each other , do we? We could learn how to- uh- do it. That way we know how it goes when we get the real deal, you know.”
Richie felt his throat run dry, but nevertheless exclaimed. “Eddie, are you blushing ?”
“What? No i’m not!” he spluttered, the flush in his cheeks growing redder by the second. Richie couldn’t help but grin.
“Well I'm sorry Eddie Spaghetti. If you wanted to make out with me that badly you should’ve just asked!” The look of utter offence Eddie had drawn on his face made a chuckle rise from his chest, which he tried to hide with an awkward cough. “I mean, why are you even thinking about all this now, Eds? Do you like a girl or what? Scared she’s gonna want to kiss you and you’re gonna chicken out?”
“Don’t call me Eds- and- you know what, this was stupid. Forget about it. Forget I even said anything.” His expression suddenly became guarded, closed. “This was so stupid. ” He mumbled, hiding his face in his hands.
“I’m kidding Eds” assured Richie, quickly. Almost too quickly. “I’m just messing with you. It’s smart, really.” He grabbed Eddie’s arm, making him look up. His cheeks were still hot, and he looked so fucking adorable Richie would have done anything for him at that moment. Well, he would have done anything for Eddie at any given moment, so that wasn’t saying much.
“Really?”
“Yeah, absolutely. It’s gonna be kind of weird though, i literally just kissed your mum with this mouth, and now i’m gonna be kissing her son, like sweet home alabama-”
“Beep beep Rich.”
Eddie wobbly sat up, and Richie did the same, momentarily confused. He was sure at any moment Eddie was gonna call him out and tell him it was all a joke ( why did you seem so eager, Richie? He would say. Is there something you're not telling me? ) or he was gonna wake up just to find himself in bed, glasses on his nightstand, sweat sparkling on his forehead and the world blurry around him.
“Okay, I think you’re supposed to grab my shoulder. Maybe.” He said, cautiously.
“Wait, you wanna make out now ?”
Eddie shrugged. “Why not?”
“Yeah, okay. That 's fine. That's peachy”
Richie scooted closer, but the hammock made it difficult to move without rocking the whole thing. Eddie burst into giggles when Richie ended falling face first to his lap. And oh my god he could hear Eddie giggle forever .
He placed his hands on top of Eddie’s shoulders.
“Close your eyes”
Richie did as he was told, and felt Eddie’s hands on his cheeks. His heart hammered in his chest. He felt himself holding his breath.
“I’m kind of nervous.” He said, shyly. Richie could practically hear the small smile on his voice.
How the hell do you think I feel? He thought, shakily. I’ve been dreaming about this since forever.
And suddenly it happened. Eddie’s lips brushed his own, and the world literally exploded. He could smell Eddie’s shampoo, a soft clean smell, that made Richie feel dizzy. Butterflies threaten to burst out his stomach, and he felt his mind go blank. He didn’t know what to do with his hands so he just left them there, on top of the other boy’s shoulders, the fabric of the T-shirt soft under his grasp. It was just a peck, but for Richie it was everything. It was fireworks. It was intoxicating.
“Was that… nice?”
Richie nodded, dumbstruck. His face felt hot, his lips prickled where Eddie had laid his moments before.
“Try again.” He croaked, his voice faltering. He didn’t even have time to curse himself for being so fucking obvious , because Eddie’s lips had already found his own again. He didn’t close his eyes this time, staring at Eddie’s furious blush, his eyes squeezed shut. Richie slipped his tongue through the other boys’ parted lips, and Eddie instantly reacted by pulling back.
“What the fuck, Rich?”
“Eds, giving a peck is easy” he said, quickly regaining his composure. “The hard thing is slipping the tongue in.” He stuck his own tongue out and pointed at it, and Eddie huffed in response. “ That’s the part where you can fuck up.”
“How do you know?”
“Heard Greta talking about it in class the other day” he clarified. Eddie looked skeptical.
“Well, if you say so…”
Their first tongue-induced kiss was sloppy and had way too much saliva exchange, which made Eddie gag. On the second one, Richie was the one who pulled away, amazingly.
“Okay Eddie what the fuck is that supposed to be? You kind of feel like a dead fish, you know.”
“Excuse me, what did you just call me?”
“Dead fish?” Answered Richie, smiling. “You gotta respond somehow, dude. Honestly, your mum is a much better kisser. The way she moves her tongue just, whoa. I bet she could do a knot if she put a string in her mouth- have you seen the lady that does that on TV? Exactly like your mum. She’s thinner, ofcourse, but i think that’s just part of the Sonia Kasbrack charm-”
Eddie shut him up with another kiss.
By the time the sun had practically fallen and Eddie decided it was time to head back home, both boys' lips were red and swollen. They definitely hadn’t mastered it; their teeth had clashed together in several occasions (which had been fucking horrible , specially with Richie’s braces), and the whole tongue thing still had a long way to go, but they felt somewhat content.
Content was an understatement. Richie was thrilled . Ecstatic. He felt like he could vomit sunshine and rainbows and all those corny things they said in Ben’s gushy romance films. The warmth in his chest had yet to leave him, and he didn’t even have the strength inside of him to care about the fact this was just practice . Practice for whenever they get to kiss a real life girl.
As Richie closed the trapdoor behind him, Eddie looked for their forgotten bikes with a flashlight he produced out his fanny pack.
“Goodness Eds, is there something you don’t carry in there?” asked Richie, grabbing his bike and pushing it up the small trail that led to the main road. Grass as high as Eddie surrounded them. “Ooh, let me guess. Do you have condoms?”
Eddie followed him, sounding mildly annoyed. “I don’t carry around condoms . Which is probably what happened to your parents the night you were conceived, jackass.”
Richie snickered, reaching the poorly illuminated road. He could hear Eddie breathing unevenly, and turned around, looking concerned.
“You okay there, Eds? Want me to grab your inhaler?”
“I’m fine.” He wheezed. He looked at the floor while he held a hand out, gesturing to Richie to wait, while he got hold of his breath. “Good as new.” He finally added, glancing up and giving Richie a half smile.
Eddie barely used his inhaler now, ever since he found out it was a placebo. ‘ It’s just a fucking gazeboo’ he had angrily told his friends once, after figuring out the truth. None of them had had the strength to correct him. He only used it when he got really bad and started making those weird wheezing sounds that made him sound like a train.
They walked down the road, both boys besides each other holding their bikes at their sides. It was peaceful outside, one of the first warm nights of the year. There was still some pail light, and the sky rose above them, painted with red and pink brushstrokes, the moon barely visible in between the light pink clouds.
“My mum’s gonna fucking kill me” groaned Eddie, looking at the sky as the last inch of the dark orange sun disappeared behind the mountains. He was supposed to be back home about two hours ago.
“What even happened today?” Richie spoke cautiously, peeking at Eddie.
“Oh, nothing. You know, the typical.” He answered. Richie didn’t enquire any further, feeling that any further questioning wouldn’t be well welcomed.
They parted their different ways, Richie turning left and Eddie making a right, and both pedaled away, each heading to their own house. They had agreed to continue their practice session another day, and Richie got home with a goofy grin still plastered on his face.
He unceremoniously dropped his bicycle inside the garage and came into the house through the back door. He grabbed the bottle of milk from the fridge and after giving it two big swigs and leaving it back in the refrigerator door, he dragged himself to the living room.
“Where's Juddy?” He asked, dropping himself besides his older sister, Margaret. She was painting her nails an ugly shade of dusty pink while trying to keep up with the show playing on TV at the same time.
“Upstairs sleeping” answered his mum sweetly, glancing at her son’s direction. She was also sitting on the sofa, legs crossed and holding his father’s hand.
“Huh? Already?”
“It is kind of late, Rich. Where have you even been, if one might ask?”
Richie hummed in response. “Oh. who knows, who knows. Just out with the losers.”
“Isn’t it kind of sad you call each other losers?” Chimed Margaret, looking up from her neatly painted nails.
“Well, definitely not sadder than that nail polish color, my dear sister,” he noted. “It is not doing any wonders to your yellowish complexion.”
“Ugh, fuck off Richie”
“Language” Wentworth Tozier glanced at his kids from the other side of the sofa.
“Sorry Dad” yelped Margaret.
Richie stayed with his family watching TV for about three more minutes. He grabbed the food his mum had left him inside the refrigerator and took it up to his room, where he nibbled on it, perched on the ledge of his window, legs dangerously dangling outside. He replayed the events of the afternoon in his mind and wondered for the hundredth time how the fuck had that even happen. He touched his face where Eddie had been holding it an hour ago, still feeling high and drunk from the kisses. And they hadn’t even been good kisses. They had been awkward and sloppy and icky. Nevertheless, Richie’s mind went over them again and again and again. He wondered if Eddie might be doing the same thing back at his house. Probably not. He thought. He’s not a pathetic loser like you. He doesn’t have feelings for you, does he now?
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by his sister, who noisily banged his door open.
“What the fuck, Margo?”
“Do not call me Margo you little shit” she answered, not really sounding annoyed. She closed the door behind her and sat on Richie’s unmade bed. The covers were dark blue and had drawings of planets all over them. His mum had offered to buy new ones some time ago, less childish , she had said, but for some reason Richie had grown strangely attached to the colorful bed covers and had turned down the offer.
“So” Margaret was saying now, smoothing down Saturn with a pink-nailed hand. She was three years older than Richie and had just finished her last year at Derry’s highschool. She had spent the entire school term applying for colleges and sending out reviews and had finally gotten into one at New Hampshire. It was a four hour car trip away, meaning she was moving out at the end of August. Richie would never admit it out loud to anyone (well, maybe Eddie) but he was gonna miss stupid Margaret with her annoying big sister attitude a lot.
“Who’d you make out with”
“What now?”
“Oh do not play dumb with me. I can see it. Ruffled hair, blushed cheeks, that stupid grin- also it looks like you stuck your lips up the aspirator tube. So tell me, who was it?”
Richie stared at her, baffled.
“It was Angelina, if you have to know” Drawled Richie. Angelina was Margaret's best friend, a red headed, freckled girl with beautiful green eyes, and subject of the majority of his sexual jokes when talking to his sister. Basically, because it got under her goddamned skin.
“Oh my god shut up about Angelina.”
“It was her, I swear to the holy lord! Call her!” he added dramatically, hiding his face in one hand, as if he couldn’t stand the doubt in his sister’s tone.
“You’re impossible, Richie. Who is she?”
“I will not give any names.” he declared, crossing his arms and closing his eyes, a sarcastic look of solemnity on his face.
“Well, tell me something about her, at least.”
Richie opened his eyes, and concentrated for a moment. “She’s got beautiful brown eyes” he described after a full ten seconds of silence. “And freckles. So many freckles. And she always looks annoyed, and like- not only at me .”
Margaret smiled.
“Are you in love with her?”
Richie’s breathing faltered. Was he in love with him? With Eddie? He had long ago accepted he had a mild crush on him, that had later developed into a huge crush on him, but in love ? Could he say he was in love with his best friend?
And if he was, what would that even mean?
Margaret took his silence as an answer and got up the bed. “I know it’s tricky,” she finally said. “You don’t have to know right away.” She was about to leave the room, hand already on the door handle, when she added:
“You know where to find me if you need any advice. And Richie?”
Richie looked up from the crumbles he had left on his plate. He could feel his cheeks blazing. “Hm?”
“If you really like her, don’t fuck it up.” And she closed the door behind her, leaving Richie alone with the silent question on his lips.
And how the fuck was he supposed to do that?.
Notes:
“Have you ever kissed anyone, Richie?”
I hope this sentence sounds familiar ;)Anyways i'm so excited to write this fic! Like i'm literally bursting to write it. My fingers can't keep up with my brain ughhh. I'll probably update it real soon :))
Chapter 2: Ink stains and flesh eating zombies
Summary:
He was right in the middle of the kissing bridge, the carved initials, love promises and hearts glaring at him, daring him.
‘Who’s gonna carve your initials, Eddie Kaspbrack?’ they seemed to say. ‘Who’s gonna love you enough to scratch their name next to yours in the splintering wood for eternity?’
A name flashed through his mind, and Eddie’s heart skipped a beat. Alarmed, he quickly buried it between his thoughts, pushing it away.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The second time they kissed had been about a week later. Eddie had stormed out of his house, throwing the door closed with a loud bang and had raced down his street, tears threatening to leave his eyes.
Sonia Kasbrak, sitting on the breakfast table while spreading sugar free jam on a hot piece of toast ( ‘ never let your bread burn, Eddie bear’ she would say ‘burnt food can give you cancer’) had decided to resume the fight that had taken place about a week before.
Eddie was tired of his mother, of the way she treated him, the way she spoke to him, her gushing and worrying, like he was a fragile piece of glass and literally not a 16 year old boy who defeated a fucking killer clown two summers ago.
He understood what his mother had been yelling about. And deep down, he even knew she had a point. But he didn't want to hear it. Therefore, the angrily running out of the house.
He stopped running when he reached the kissing bridge, his heart hammering and his lungs begging for air. His fingers itched to grab his inhaler, to notice the fresh minty sent on the back of his throat and feel his lungs opening for fresh air. He didn’t, though. The inhaler was just another one of Sonia’s lies. Another filthy way to manipulate him, to have him under her grasp.
Eddie took deep breaths, mentally counting to ten, each breath soothing his thundering heart, until he started breathing like normal again. Once he had calmed down, he looked around him. He was right in the middle of the bridge, the carved initials, love promises and hearts glaring at him, daring him.
‘Who’s gonna carve your initials, Eddie Kaspbrack?’ they seemed to say. ‘Who’s gonna love you enough to scratch their name next to yours in the splintering wood for eternity?’
A name flashed through his mind, and Eddie’s heart skipped a beat. Alarmed, he quickly buried it between his thoughts, pushing it away.
He wandered off, letting the bridge behind him, until he found the half hidden path that led to the clubhouse. He remembered fondly the first time the seven of them had walked down that very same trail, two long summers ago. Ben had been a nervous wreck, and Eddie had been astonished when he had finally shown them the hiding spot he had been building for months. The whole covered in dirt and spiders falling from the ceiling hadn’t really pleased him as much , but still, it had been fucking impressive. When Stan had pulled out the shower caps, Eddie had been relieved. As a matter of fact, he had thought it was an excellent idea until he heard Richie wheezing at Stan, and had proceeded to quickly pull it off his head. That was the thing with Richie; Eddie had always cared so much about what he had to say, or what he thought. And that was saying much, because 90% of the things Richie blabbered about were complete bullshit. Richie might’ve been the complete opposite of cool , but Eddie still looked up to him a little. He was so fucking brave, stupidly brave (sometimes just plain stupid) and the majority of times that just got him into so many problems, but Eddie admired him nevertheless. Richie always stuck up to Bowers and his gang, telling them to eat shit, or to fuck off, and he even got as far as trying to punch Bowers once, which had (obviously) ended up with Richie on the floor, broken glasses and a bruised eye. But the fact that he had dared to answer back, dared punch back because they had been insulting his friends, was enough for Eddie.
He let himself in through the trap door, and after climbing down the ladder, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a black mess of hair pointing out of the hammock. Richie held a small notebook in one hand and a pen in the other, which he was thoughtfully biting. He seemed so concentrated he didn’t even hear Eddie enter the hideout.
Suddenly, the pen made a loud crack and exploded, staining Richie’s mouth blue. He stuck his tongue out and made a gagging noise, and Eddie tried to hold back a giggle, unsuccessfully. Richie turned in his direction, startled.
“Oh, hiya Eds. Didn’t hear you come in”
“I can see. You look like a smurf.”
“A sexy one, i bet” he cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing it with blue too. “Fuck. That was my only pen” he pretend-whimpered.
Eddie didn’t even bother telling him to move. Instead, he climbed into the hammock across from Richie, their knees bumping against each other. Richie was wearing a crumpled Hawaiian shirt and some brown shorts with big pockets.
“The fuck happened to you?” he asked, pointing at Richie’s bruised knees.
“Fell off the bike yesterday. Jude insisted on playing doctors with me.” he added, lazily gesturing at the colorful plasters that covered his knees, decorated with animals and cartons. “Can’t really say no to her. And, it makes me look super cool.”
“It does not.”
“Does too.”
“No. What are you even doing down here? I thought you all had plans today.”
“Got kicked out of the house after trying to get Margaret to put up a comedic number with me.” Richie shrugged. “No one in my family gets my precious humor. They’ll regret it one day, once I'm old and famous." His tone was light. Eddie knew he didn’t really mean it. Richie loved his family in a way Eddie could never picture himself loving his own mother.
“Such a misunderstood child”
“Precisely.”
Eddie fell silent. He couldn’t help but go back to the last time they had both been in this very same hammock, alone. Eddie had gathered all his courage to ask that question, and Richie had seemed so breezy about it. As if best friends making out was the most normal thing in the fucking world. Practice making out, he reminded himself.
Eddie had no idea where he had expected that conversation to end, but definitely not in making out with Richie. Richie, of all people. ‘ What do you wanna do, practice? ’ he had said, and Eddie had found himself agreeing before he had even processed what he was agreeing to. Stupid body, answering for him before his brain actually gave out a reasonable, coherent order. And once the harm was already done, he had found himself argumenting why it would be a good idea. He actually had no clue about what he had said, the words blurting out his mouth, but the more he talked the more reasonable it sounded. ‘ Yeah, that’s it’ he had thought. ‘ It’s not like I want to kiss Richie. I just wanna kiss someone. And do it right. We can help each other out. That’s normal, right?”
He had concluded, that very same night, that kissing Richie had meant nothing, really. It had just happened to be Richie, the same way it could’ve been Bill or Stan. There was nothing else to it. He didn’t dwell on why kissing Richie felt much more likable and comfortable than kissing any of the other losers. The same way he was now desperately trying not to dwell on why he had the urge to kiss him right now . Or dwell on why his body reacted the way it did when Richie was around.
“So. Wanna practice making out?”
Definitely not dwell on why his whole body felt like he was letting go of a gasp of air he hadn’t even realized he had been holding when he heard Richie saying those words. ‘Thought you’d never fucking ask.’
“Sure”
“Okay, stop, stop” Eddie yelped. “What even is that?”
Richie grinned. They were sitting in front of each other, the hammock wobbling each time they moved slightly.
“I’m trying something different.”
“The fuck no. Keep doing what you were doing before.”
Kissing Richie was a whole experience on its own. He could do something so extremely good it made Eddie practically come in his fucking pants and other shit so repulsive he even considered calling the whole thing of.
Oh, but when he did something good, it was fireworks. It was explosive. It made Eddie realize where all the hype in kissing was, the way his nerves felt on fire everywhere Richie would brush his bare skin. His hands laid still on top of Richie’s thighs, still not knowing what to really do with them. Richie was grabbing him by the waist, and each time he shifted his whole body felt like it was being licked in flames.
He sucked at Eddie’s bottom lip and he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his body from shivering. And suddenly- there it was. Richie shoved his tongue downwards with no warning whatsoever, and Eddie broke the kiss, disgusted.
“Ugh, Rich! Ever heard of ‘ gag reflex ’?”
Richie scooted closer. From this distance, Eddie could see each individual lashes in Richie’s eyes, each one as perfect as the last. He had taken Richie’s glasses off after the first kiss, after they had been painfully squashed to his face, and now lay on top of the pile of forgotten comic strips.
“Uh, duh. Your mum had one of those sucking my massive dick last night.”
“Honestly Richie, just shut up about my mum while we’re making out!”
“No can do, honey-boo.” Eddie’s legs were starting to prickle, and he tried to shift his position, only managing to move his legs a bit before the hammock started moving unsteadily like crazy.
“I’m so fucking sick of this hammock.” he muttered, holding Richie’s shoulders for balance.
“Mm. Maybe we should tell the others to bring in a sofa or something. Making out on the chairs seems uncomfortable too.”
“Oh yeah, let's tell them that.” Eddie answered sarcastically. “Hey, Ben, you think you could bring a sofa in here? We kind of need it to make out, you know. Extra comfort.”
Richie snickered, his whole body vibrating. “Imagine the look on his face.”
Eddie couldn’t help but smile. Richie’s laugh had always been contagious, ever since they were small. “Oh god no. Poor Ben. He’d be traumatized.”
It was moments like this where Eddie realised how beautiful Richie really was. It wasn’t something he thought about normally; the words ‘Richie’ and ‘beautiful’ didn’t really belong together in the same sentence. Richie was lanky, his glasses were too big for his face and his hygiene habits were absolutely repulsive, yet there was something in the way his eyes twinkled when he said a joke, something on the way he caressed Eddie’s cheek before leaning in for a kiss, such a soft and intimate gesture; something in the way he looked so vulnerable without his glasses, that made the word beautiful blink in Eddie’s mind.
Abruptly, Richie held Eddie’s face and touched his lip with his thumb, his face contorting in a gesture of concentration. He leaned in, and Eddie swallowed hard, startled.
“Holly fuck Eds” he giggled. “Your mouth is blue.”
“what”
Richie stuck his own tongue out, still blue from the ink of the pen he had accidentally bit into some time before. Eddie suddenly placed the weird metallic tang he had been tasting for a while now ever since they had started making out. It was fucking ink .
“You’re joking.”
“Pretty sure that’s what your mum said when she hold you for the very first time”
“Can’t imagine what your mum said. Probably what the fuck”
“Ah yes, I like to think I caused sensation ever since I entered this wonderful world.”
“You’re a riot, trashmouth”
Richie pecked his lips and paused. Eddie could feel him laughing, could feel him smiling against his own lips. A rush of affection jolted through him as he interlinked his fingers behind Richie’s neck, pulling him closer, lips colliding. It felt like bliss, the faint taste of cigarettes and ink and something else, something sweet, made him almost addicting. Eddie had always thought he wouldn’t be willing to kiss anyone who smoked. The smell and taste disgusted him, and yet here he was. Sharing breaths with Richie Tozier, known smoker since the tender age of eleven, and god knows he’d do it a million times more.
Richie had woken up somewhere around 11 o’clock, and had entered the kitchen looking for a nice and calm breakfast (consisting of plain milk with rainbow colored cereal his mother bought for Jude) but had instead found a full on Tozier reunion in there. Maggie seemed to be cooking food on several pots at the same time, all steaming and smelling delicious, while Margaret decorated some cookies with some chocolate frosting she had already mixed in a bowl beside her. On the kitchen counter, someone had sat his baby sister Jude, who had her hair up in two ponytails, her face covered with the sugary icing. Wenworth paced up and down the kitchen, his face looking stern while he talked to somebody else on the phone.
“Whaaat is going over here, people” questioned Richie, climbing on the kitchen stool and sitting across from Jude. He stuck a finger in the sugary icing, earning a hard smack from Margaret.
“Oh, right in time, sweety” Maggie ruffled his son’s hair and Richie moved out of her grasp, hissing like an angry cat.
“Mister Donovan’s wife just died,” said Margaret in a bored tone. “Mum, dad and I are gonna go down there with some food to help out.”
“Wasn’t mister Donovan's wife, like, 100 years old?”
“She was a nice lady.” intervened Jude, pouting. “She gave me sweets.”
“She was horrible! Remember that time she screamed her head off ‘cause she thought we were the ones letting her dead birds on her front door? It was her cat. ”
Margaret snickered at the memory. “Oh my god, and when she was convinced we were stealing her clean towels and she barged into the house to prove our towels were actually hers? ”
Richie started giggling, but fell silent when he caught his mum frowning at them.
“Don’t talk ill of the dead, kids. Honestly.” she huffed, turning off the oven and pulling a steaming chicken from inside. Richie stared as she served it on a big white plate and emptied the contents of the pots beside the chicken. Roasted potatoes, carrots, peas and other vegetables were dropped in the fountain. Maggie grabbed some gravy and poured all over the food, and after seeming satisfied with her work, she started covering it up with aluminium paper.
“Richie, I'm gonna need you to do us a favor and take care of Jude today” said his father, hanging up the phone with a soft click .
“ What? We were gonna go down to the quarry today, dad! Bill literally called me yesterday. He wants to st-st-start r-r-recording his f-film t-t-today.” He whined, pretending to stutter in a lame imitation of Bill.
“So? Take your sister with you.”
“But she’s eight! What am I supposed to do with her?”
“I’m nine”
“She’s nine” corroborated his mother “meaning she’s not old enough to attend the funeral. Meaning she’s gotta stay with you.”
Richie glared at his mother, annoyed.
“Aye aye, captain” he finally answered, sarcastically.
Thirty minutes later, he arrived at the Barrens holding Jude by the hand. Everyone was already there when they got there, and he saw Bill raise his eyebrows in a silent question when he saw the eight apparently-nine year old girl appear besides Richie.
“The fuck, dude?” said Stan, who had been holding a camera at eye level trying to get the lens to focus.
“Some old lady got herself killed, so I'm stuck with her for the rest of the day” he clarified, glancing at Jude, who kept looking around, her eyes widening with curiosity.
“Y-you do k-know we’re f-f-filming a horror m-movie, Rich” spoke Bill.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” debatated Eddie. “She lives with Richie. She’s probably used to his bullshit and R rated language.”
“That” he pointed at Eddie “is completely true. She can even feature as an extra, Bill. Kill her off in the very first scene.”
Bill sucked on his pencil, thoughtfully, and finally shrugged. “N-not a b-b-bad idea, T-Tozier. Common, I'll t-tell you each your r-roles.”
It was gonna be a flesh-eating zombie film. Eddie had made a disgusting sound (he hated zombies. People carrying diseases and running around while literally rotting away was a big no-no for him) which everyone had promptly ignored, and Bill had proceeded to explain the plot and several characters. A group of friends survived a zombie apocalypse in the city of Derry, Maine. One by one, they each get bitten until only one of the remains. After some intense debating, they all agreed Ben should be the last survivor, and Richie called dibs on being the one to kill him. Stan said he would be incharge of the camera, after strictly refusing to act.
“W-w-we want t-the p-p-public to be sc-scared.” Bill was saying. “B-build up the tension. M-make them jump i-in their seats.”
The first couple of scenes went fairly alright. Bev had brought a bunch of her cosmetics and with the help of Bill, carefully did their zombie makeup. Richie and Mike’s faces were covered in grey powder, giving them a deadish look, and Bev made their skin look black and bruised with fake teeth marks where they had both been apparently bitten. Bev, Eddie and Ben would be the friend group surviving the apocalypse. Mike and Richie would be the zombies. They also covered Jude in fake blood for the first scene, featuring a bloodied corpse being devoured by both boys, and she looked absolutely thrilled to be playing zombies between her older brother’s friends.
“Eddie, y-you’re dying n-n-next” stated Bill, holding the script he had been making changes to all morning. After so much trial and error, they had managed to film a take of them running through the barrens, being chased by the zombies. Bev had kept bursting into laughter, and Richie couldn’t help himself from making cheeky comments, so getting a decent shot had taken much more time than it should’ve.
“You’re s-s-supposed to t-trip with th-th-that l-lodge” he pointed at the rotting piece of wood laying on the floor “R-R-Richie c-catches up w-with you, and bites your n-neck. And t-t-then we have a ffffull scene of you rising from th-the dead, too.”
Eddie’s mouth formed a line. “Just great. Only doing this for you, Big Bill. I expect recompensation.”
“Th-thanks, Eddie,” he smiled warmly. “I’ll buy you some sh-shake a-and f-f-fries after this.”
He raised his hands in surrender, a grin spreading on his lips. “I’m bought.”
Bill placed everyone in position, told Stan the exact angle to record in, and yelled. “Three, t-two, one- action!!” The clapperboard he had brought with him made a loud snap! .
Eddie started running across the trees, Stan following him, holding the camera tightly in both hands. He pretended to trip and whimpered as he hit the ground, desperately scattering the earth with his hands as he tried to get up. Richie dropped to the ground besides him, knees hitting hard against the soft soil, and grabbed Eddie by both his arms. He pulled him closer, the soft scent of clean clothes and shampoo tickling his nose. He could hear Eddie’s heart beating like crazy, and made the mistake of glancing at his face. He was blushing furiously, staring right at him, pupils dilated from the sudden closeness with the other boy. Richie swallowed as he bent down over him, his lips pressing against his neck, Eddie’s hot skin against his mouth. He breathed against it, and felt the smaller boy shiver ever so lightly, but just enough to send a jolt all over his body. Eddie suddenly remembered to play his bit and started screaming and thrashing.
“ Cut!! T-that was great guys” Bill beamed, and they both sprang apart. Richie prayed his face wasn’t betraying every single thought scrambling through his brain at that moment.
They decided to call it off after three hours of film-making, and while Bill worked with Bev on new script changes and ideas (apparently, she had become the co-director at some point throughout that morning) Eddie helped Richie get all the makeup off his face. He had his eyes closed, his hands fidgeting with his glasses while Eddie wiped his face with a wet cloth.
“That scene at the beginning, with Jude- that was so fucking dope. All bloody and gorey- what do you think, Eds?” He opened his eyes and looked up at Eddie, who concentratedly scrubbed his face, trying to get his skin to turn back to its natural color.
“Shut your eyes, idiot. And way too much blood.”
“You’re a prissy, Eds.”
Eddie tutted, ignoring him completely. “I don’t know what to do, Rich. You’re gray now. I give up”
Richie stuck his glasses back upon his face, and stared at Eddie, his face coming back to focus. His eyes glimmered, and Richie found himself yet again practically swooning over him like a lovesick girl. He looked annoyed, as always, but after throwing a few furtive looks around to make sure no one was spying on them, his gaze visibly softened, a small smile creeping up on his face.
“We’re doing that later” he whispered, low enough so only the other boy could hear it.
The butterflies in his stomach erupted. His lips twitched into a grin.
“You guys coming?” said Ben from afar, waving his hand. Both boys stood up.
“Comming!”
“That’s what she said” snickered Richie. Eddie painfully dug his elbow on his ribs.
Notes:
This was so fun to write!! Happy 2025 guys <3 I've planned this story to have two more chapters (maybe?) that i'll probably post before the end of xmas break here in Spain (so like, before the six of januray). UGHGHG i'm SO EXCITED
Chapter 3: Midnight expeditions and purplish love bites
Summary:
Richie stood under his room, looking up, holding a bunch of pebbles in his hand. Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise, and found his heart beating faster at the sight of Richie, wearing a loose set of PJ’s and some sandals, bike scattered beside him, smiling up at the other boy.
“Richie” he hissed “what are you doing here.”
Notes:
Writting a full on make up sesh on this one. Bcs why not. Hardcore feelings stuff ahead (i'm so sappy ik). ALSO i've decided it's gonna have 5 chapters instead of four. Muahahahh.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Eddie found himself that very same afternoon bent over one of the books in his summer reading list for school, the small lamp perched on his desk bathing the table with a soft yellow light. Night had come about half an hour before, and he had been just about to drop the tedious reading for the day when he heard the barely audible taps on his window.
Startled, he got up and fully opened it. It hadn’t been completely closed, just a crack left to let some air get into the hot room.
Richie stood under his bedroom, looking up, holding a bunch of pebbles in his hand. Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise, and found his heart beating faster at the sight of Richie, loose set of PJ’s and some sandals, bike scattered beside him, smiling up at the other boy.
“Richie” he hissed “ what are you doing here.”
“Though you said you wanted to do that later. Remember?”
Eddie blinked twice. Richie looked up at him, the faint shine of the moon lighting up his face. His glasses glinted under it.
Eddie huffed. “Well? Are you coming up or do you just plan to stay there the entire night?”
Richie grinned like the Cheshire cat and started climbing up the tree right under Eddie’s bedroom. It had numerous knots and many protruding branches, making it fairly easy to climb, and Richie had no problem mounting it and making his way through the window sill. Eddie pulled at his arm, helping him in, and the taller boy dropped unceremoniously into the bedroom.
“Hiya Eds” he breathed.
“You’re insane. What about your parents?”
He shrugged. “Probably sleeping. They sleep through anything. Didn’t even sneak out, just left through the main door.”
“And your sister?”
“She literally couldn’t care less.” He threw his ever so long body on Eddie’s bed, making himself comfortable as if it was his own room. It had always been like that between the both of them. Eddie was always welcomed as another member of the Tozier family, and Richie came and went to Eddie’s as he pleased. When they had been smaller, half of the toys and games at Richie’s room were Eddie’s; and half of the magazines and cassettes in Eddie’s bedroom were actually Richie’s.
“What were you doing? Is that- Eddie, is that homework? ” he sputtered, sounding outrageous.
Eddie sat on the chair in front of his desk, one of those that had little wheels and could rotate on itself. He turned in it, facing Richie.
“Lower your voice” he hushed. “If my mum hears you I'm dead meat.” he pondered for a second. “Well, not literally, but I'd be grounded until college if she finds out I have Richie Tozier of all people in my room.”
“What would she say if she found out you were, gee i don’t know, kissing Richie Tozier. Of all people. In your room.” He added the last bit with a slight grin.
“Richard Tozier, you did not just sneak out of your house in the middle of the night to make out with me.”
“Technically, it’s like nine thirty-ish.” he glanced at his digital watch, the screen lighting up with a bright green light. “I mean, you said the hammock was suuuper uncomfortable… what better than a nice, comfy bed.” He patted Eddie’s white, blue and red striped covers.
Eddie just stared, heat rising up his cheeks. The only light in the room was the yellow one from the lamp on his desk, and he prayed Richie couldn’t tell that he was blushing.
“I can leave if you want…” Started Richie, suddenly sounding a bit awkward. Eddie shook his head violently.
“No! No.” he cleared his throat. He climbed on the bed, sitting in front of Richie as they had done on the other two occasions. This time, no uncomfortable wobbles followed his movements.
“I’ve been watching movie scenes-” he said, his voice kind of shy. After he had gotten home, he had plucked in his mum’s old romance films while she was out shopping, and they had all had two or three R- rated scenes he had curiously examined “they do stuff with their hands, and like, kiss, on um, other parts.”
“You wanna suck my wang or what dude?” replied Richie, smirking.
“No, ew- gross! I ment the neck and stuff.”
“Like today?”
“Hm” he hummed in response. “That felt good.”
“Eddie’s been doing his homework. Who would’ve guessed! Such ah responsahble young boy, ayuh” he remarked.
Eddie looked at him. “Is that a new Voice?”
“Well, it sure is my dear Eds!” Richie fully beamed at him, pleased. “I knew you could tell them apart. That means I'm definitely getting better.”
“No, not really, no,” he answered. “If you do any of your voices while we’re at it i’ll kick you out of my room. I’m not even joking.”
“What?” he pretended to look startled. “You don’t wanna make out with yours trulay, the irish cop? Always in dutay.”
He giggled as Eddie hit him in the face with his pillow. “Stop it Richie! I swear to God you are leaving this room.”
“Okay! Okay, I'm done.” he raised his hands in surrender. “Had to get it out of my system.”
“Ugh, I hate you so much .”
“That’s actually a huge turn on, not gonna lie.”
“What?”
Richie collided his lips with Eddie, making him shut up immediately. He promptly started to kiss back, his whole body trembling in pure bliss. Richie’s hands found their way up Eddie’s pajama shirt, and started running them up and down his back. Each touch made him feel dizzy, fervent, his soft lips urgent against Richie’s chipped ones. This wasn’t as any of the other kisses they had shared before; it was desperate, almost longing. Their foreheads bumped into each other, sending each of them a jolt of pain.
“Sorry” Richie breathed against his mouth. The soft air tickled his face, the warmth in his chest erupting.
“It’s okay” Eddie felt his voice hoarse, and Richie crackled a laugh.
“Too much for you, Eds?” he asked teasingly. “We can stop-”
Before Richie could finish the sentence, Eddie crashed his own mouth against his, pulling his hands into Richie’s soft curls. Because fuck, how could he feel this good? How could his hair feel like silk on his fingers, his mouth sweet like sugar over his own? He tasted like tobacco, and he could only guess he had smoked one before turning up at Eddie’s.
Richie was actually getting insanely good at this. The first two times had been painful and awkward for the most part. Save some exceptions. Richie’s use of tongue had been overwhelming, and he had kept jerkingly changing the rhythm of the kiss. But now…
Richie’s mouth left his own and made its way to his neck, his hot lips pressing against Eddie’s clavicle where he had pretended to bite him a few hours ago. He sucked ever so slightly, and after Eddie’s positive reaction (his whole body had quivered as a helpless whimper escaped his lips) he sucked a bit harder, licking him, his teeth biting down lightly on Eddie’s soft skin.
‘That’s gonna leave a mark that’s gonna leave a mark that’s gonna leave a mark-’ Eddie’s brain rambled over and over, but he pushed the thought away. He realised he couldn’t care less; it just felt so right .
Eddie had mastered the art of not thinking. On not dwelling on anything. Not dwelling on why he had a fucking list of all the things he had ever wanted to do to Richie, like running his hands up and down his arms or liking the base of his throat. Or since when had that list existed, hidden between the folds of his mind. Not ponder on that, think about anything except the way they felt so perfect together, the manner in which he made Eddie feel drunk with the taste of him, how absolutely ecstatic he made him feel.
They stopped some time afterwards, but Richie showed up the next night. And the next, and the one after that, and the one after that. It became some sort of ritual; right after the sun’s last rays hid behind the tall mountains that surrounded Derry, Eddie was sure to hear the light sound of pebbles hitting his bedroom window. Richie would climb the tree, and their lips would crash together, drinking each other, sharing the same breath. They both knew whatever this was had changed after that night. Eddie longed to feel Richie against him, had to keep himself from putting him against the wall and kissing him senseless while hanging out with the rest of the losers during the day. And he knew this wasn’t normal. You weren’t supposed to feel that way for someone you were just practicing how to kiss with.
Because Eddie had stopped practicing long ago. He kissed him because he wanted to, because he needed to. Because he had always believed lips were only made for lies, filthy lies, lies his mother had whispered to him ever since he had been a small boy, barely even two. ‘You’re so fragile, Eddiebear’ she had told him, her voice soothing. ‘ You’re lungs aren’t alright. Your health is very weak. Take these pills, be careful, don’t run, don’t jump, don’t play on the mud. Use your inhaler, Eddiebear. Or you’ll choke. Or you’ll die .’ But Richie’s lips… they had made him feel alive . He hadn’t kissed him as if he were fragile, or delicate. They had made him whimper, kissing his bare shoulders, his nose, his eyes, his mouth. They had made his brain short circuit, had had him gasping for air, had made his skin prickle and his knees buckle as he drew out shuddering breaths.
He didn’t like to think about what this meant. He didn’t like the way he found Richie so fucking hot when he cautiously watched him at the quarry, the water splashing against his pale skin, glistening with the sun’s blathing light. Richie, all long limbs and sharp angles, thin arms and messy hair. Hot. So hot, infact, he could have stared at him for hours. And he did, at times, stare directly at him; Richie’s eyes would always meet his at the end.
For Richie, it had never been practice. Those nightly visits had become so necessary to him as breathing was to the human being. He could’ve only guessed before what kissing his best friend (his best fucking friend. Oh my God what was he doing) would be like. But he could’ve never guessed it would feel so amazing, so perfect. Richie could’ve sworn hands were only made for fighting, for throwing punches in the school yard, knuckles bruising and lips bloody; and yet instead they roamed Eddie’s body, caressing his cheek, brushing his freckled shoulders, lightly touching the inside of his arms, his collarbone, his back.
He could’ve sworn eyes were made for crying, crying in front of the mirror, crying behind his glasses as he realised he was gay , that he liked boys, that he was unnatural, rotten, disgusting. And yet through his eyes he could stare at Eddie, at the bright freckles against his cheeks, at the way his hair would curl lightly in the nape of his neck when the air was humid, the way his soft brown eyes crinkled when he laughed. Through his eyes he got to see the way his hands sometimes fidgeted when he was nervous, or the way he bit his lip when he concentrated on something. Through his eyes he had gotten to watch Eddie fumble, blush at Richie’s sexual jokes, get nervous because of the distance between them, because of the way Eddie felt Richie’s gaze on him.
He knew it was just experimental, a stupid summer fling, and that once September got hold of them it would be over. Eddie would go back to something safer, a long haired girl from his science class or his history period, one that braided her hair and dressed in nice skirts and dressing shoes. But until then, this would be as close as he would get to calling Eddie his.
Neither boy knew what they were doing. What they were getting into. Eddie sometimes laid awake at night thinking how the fuck was this supposed to end. Where was it even going. Richie would lay awake thinking how long he would be able to keep it up. How long until these precious moments with Eddie that he had fantasized about for so long were over.
But until then, they had time. A whole summer ahead of them, long hot nights with only each other as company, their breathing synchronized, their voices a whisper in the silent residence of the Kaspbracks, the TV as the only other sound in the background.
And all this leads us back to that humid July night, Richie on top of Eddie, elbows propped against the soft mattress of his bed. Eddie’s hands had somehow managed to find Richie’s hair and rested there, fingers sunken in the other boy’s dark curls. After countless nights they had discovered what made each of them shiver, what made them dizzy and drawed strangled noises from the back of their throats. For Eddie it was neck kisses, Richie’s lips sucking lightly on the lower part of his neck, on his adam apple. For Richie, it was hair strokes, Eddie’s hands soothingly rubbing his scalp, his soft curls tangling under his fingers.
Eddie’s neck had been covered in purplish bruises after a week. Richie, at first, had been worried about leaving a mark, but Eddie had been persistent. He would sometimes stare at himself in the mirror, lightly tugging with his fingers at the collar of his shirt, showing the bruised skin right beneath his neck. The view of these purplish hickies thrilled Eddie, the butterflies in his stomach going off like crazy each time he got a glimpse of them on his reflection.
Of course, it had become a problem when they had gone swimming with the rest of the losers to the quarry. Richie (thankfully) hadn’t left any teeth marks that would undoubtedly confirm everyone’s presumptions, but still, the dark marks raised some questions.
It had been one day after they had finished a filming session down there, a scene in which the survivors were supposed to grab water and resources at the lake. Zombie-Eddie had appeared at some point; Bev had cried the death of his friend and then Ben and her had run away. Bill seemed proud of their work, a shiny smile on his face while he sat at the lake shore, the sun tanning his shoulders.
Richie was in the water, trying to get a very annoyed Stan to drown, and Eddie stood beside where Bill was sitting, his shirt still on and with his hands on his hips, staring at the boys in the water with squinting eyes.
“Is Richie wearing his glasses in the water?” he said to no one in particular.
Bill cracked a laugh. “Makes s-sense, I guess. R-R-Richie is as b-blind as a b-bat. He can’t sssee shit without th-them.”
“Guess so”
“You guys going in?” asked Bev from behind them. Eddie turned to look at her. He noticed Bill furtively staring, her fiery hair contrasting with her pail skin, wearing her cotton underpants and bra. The key she always wore at her neck glistened under the sun. He remembered the first time she had gone swimming with them, how they all had looked dumbstruck at her, at a real life girl , laying under the sun, sunglasses lopsided on her face. Now the novelty had worn off, and Eddie looked at her the same way he looked at any of his other friends. 'Except Richie,' whispered his mind. Bill and Ben were the only ones that still seemed somewhat dazzled by her.
Eddie pulled his shirt over his head, and neatly folded it and placed it over a nearsighted rock that looked somewhat clean.
He heard a strangled breath beside him, and, confused, turned to look at Bill, who was worryingly eyeing his friend's neck. Eddie’s hand flew up, covering the marks he knew were there, his mind suddenly blank. He had forgotten all about them, with all the film preparation and recording. Fuck.
“Eddie, what’s wrong with your neck?” Bev questioned, her tone also concerned. Eddie’s brain scattered for an excuse that left out the whole Richie and hard core making out.
“Allergic reaction.” he blurted out after some painful seconds of silence. “My mum bought this, uh, lotion.” He tried to grin, his heart thumping in his ears. “And it gave me a rash.” Good, Eddie, good, he thought. That sounded plausible enough . “Does it look that bad?”
“Oh, no, no!” answered Bev. “Caught us offhand, that’s all.”
Of course, Richie had been reduced to actual tears when he had told him later that night. He’d had to shut him up at the end, his mouth covering Richie’s, scared his mother might hear them and come up the stairs to check.
That might’ve been one of his favourite things of kissing Richie. Just getting him to shut the fuck up. Of course he could always tell him to shut up, but it wasn’t as effective as this .
Coming back to that hot July night. They hadn’t been especially noisy. Richie hadn’t yelled YOWZA!!, not even once (which had happened before, for Eddie’s complete horror), nor had they raised their voices or laugh too hard, and yet Sonia Kaspbrak, the dragon in the dragons dean, as Richie called her, who spent every night slumped infront of the TV and didn't even bother to go upstairs to her own bed, had decided to go up her son’s room that very same day.
Richie’s head sprung up when he heard the heavy steps coming up the stairs, Eddie’s eyes widening under him.
“ Eddiebear !” Sonia’s screeching voice called from outside the room. Richie jumped out of bed, panicking, as Eddie’s gaze joltingly looked at every bit of the room looking for an escape route. The window was out of question: pushing Richie out there in a rush seemed dangerous, and might end with Richie’s arm bent weirdly or his legs snapped in half. Eddie would much rather deal with his mother’s wrath than have Richie in pain and hospitalized. His eyes stumbled upon the half closed door of his wardrobe, and ushered Richie in there, while he himself jumped back to the bed, grabbing the discarded magazine he had been flipping through right before Richie had made his grand appearance. And right in time, too; Sonia Kapsbrack erupted into the room, her face red with effort, just as Richie closed the wardrobe door.
“Mom what are you doing here?” asked Eddie, his voice sweet. Richie had seen how Eddie acted around his mother numerous of times, and yet he was still amazed with how well he could change his personality, how quickly did he asume the part of a loving, goody two shoes son who definitely wasn’t making out with some rotten boy on his bed barely a few seconds ago.
“Why, can’t a mother come and visit her son’s bedroom from time to time?” she said, glancing around the room. Richie could see her standing there like some obese hippopotamus through a small crack left from inside the wardrobe.
“I ment to ask,” Eddie’s voice corrected “mommy, do you need me to do anything?” Richie couldn’t see him from his awkward hiding position, but staring at Eddie enough times had made Richie know exactly what he would look like right now, his eyes betraying nothing, lazily laying back on his bed, the magazine loosely held between his hands.
“Infact, why don’t you help me move the sofa downstairs? The tv remote fell behind it and i can’t shift it all by myself.”
“Oh. Sure” Richie heard him get up from the bed and enter his field of vision. Eddie's hair was a mess, and he still looked somewhat flushed; nothing an inexpert eye like Sonia's wouldn't mistake for a light summer sun burn. He left the room, not before throwing a nervous look to the almost-close wardrobe door.
Now Richie was left alone, between Eddie’s neatly folded shirts and vests. The cramped space overwhelmingly smelled like him, and he bitterly thought how ironic it was that he was hiding in a closet, as if that wasn’t what he had been doing ever since he had found that magazine with the sticky pages at the park, those incredibly hot shirtless men staring up at him from the printed paper. He had kept it, guilty, and hid it under his mattress, next to the numerous playboys he had nicked from his father. He had only jerked off to that magazine after that, the naked women forgotten between his old toys and dusty boxes.
He had to wait a while until Eddie came back, ushering a quick goodnight to his mum before rushing up the stairs.
“Oh my fucking god, Richie.” he whispered after closing the bedroom door behind him. Richie cracked open the wardrobe.
“Can I come out?”
“Shh, yeah.”
Eddie’s wild eyes met his when he climbed out, and immediately was attacked by a hit of silent, hysterical laughter.
“Richie! Shut it!” but he also cracked at the end, joining Richie’s fit of giggles “that was fucking close, holy shit.”
“I should leave, Eds” he said after they had calmed down, both their hearts still beating furiously from the nerves of being almost-caught.
“What? Already?” Eddie muttered, his eyes flashing a hurt look. “It’s still early”
“Your eagerness to be with me is truly flattering, my love. And yet if you get into trouble because of me, I'd never forgive myself.” He did a ridiculous bow, and after a moment of hesitation, gently pecked Eddie on the lips, such an affectionate gesture that made Eddie’s breath hitched.
Oh but I'm in so much trouble already, he thought. Richie Tozier, you are trouble.
He saluted Eddie as if he were in the army, and disappeared through the window, his dark messy curls just out of view as he climbed down the tree, being engulfed by the dark night all around them.
And the moment he left, Eddie noticed his absence like a thorn in his heart. His fingers itched to grab the phone and call his house, just to hear his warm voice again.
God, he was completely, absolutely fucked.
Notes:
How i'd be writting gay boys making out and jerking off to magazines while sitting on the couch with my entire family:
ANYWHO.We'll get a little bit more Loosers dynamic and Richie's family in the next chapter :)
Chapter 4: Movie making and alcohol-induced confessions
Summary:
“So you’re like, fuck buddies.” Richie glared at her. “And you have feelings for her and she’s got nada for you?”
He buried his head in his hands in response. Silence followed while Margaret searched for something to say that might help her brother.
“That sounds kinda wrong.”
“I know I know- I should've told her. Like she has no idea and i’m-”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Wrong from her. You’re gonna hurt yourself like that, Richie.”
“And what do I do? Talk to her? Tell her we have to stop?”
“Maybe.”
Richie stubbed out the cigarette on the window ledge. The sun shone bright in the sky over Derry, painting the houses yellow. From his sister's window he could see Eddie’s house, a couple blocks away. His bike was laying on his front lawn, just a dot on the grass from where Richie and Margaret stood. “I'd just rather have this with her than have nothing at all.”
Notes:
Long(er) chapter up ahead :) Im so so so sorry for the wait!!😭
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Richie turned the front door knob of his house after leaving the master key hidden beneath the pot beside the door where it usually laid, and quietly entered the house. He followed the same routine he did everyday; he carefully closed the door behind him and tiptoed towards the stairs, from where he’d normally reach his room and get in bed. Tonight, however, the small lamp that stood besides an old armchair in the stairwell blinked on. Richie stopped dead on his tracks and stared at his father, legs crossed and face stern.
“Fuck”
“Richie, what the hell?” He inquired, his voice rough from sleep. He must’ve woken up when he heard the door. Richie mentally cursed himself from being so careless- he knew he should’ve been using the window. “Where have you been?”
Richie could lie. He could- and say what? That he was having a midnight walk? Their parents liked Eddie well enough, and understood his situation back home, and it wasn’t as if he had to specify exactly what he was doing with him, right? Any other fake excuse would probably get him into more trouble than just saying the truth. He made his decision after a split second.
“Eddie’s house.”
“Eddie’s house?”
Richie shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep, and I knew Eds would be awake. His mother doesn’t let him go out as much as we do, so he must be bored to death. Thought he could use the company.”
“At night?”
“You know what they say, the deeper the night the deeper the conversations.”
“No one sais that, Rich.”
“They should.”
Wentworth Tozier got up from the armchair and pulled his son into a sort-of-hug to smell his clothes. “Have you been smoking weed or something?”
“What? No!” Richie said, flabbergasted, as if he hadn’t done that numerous times before with Bev while skipping P.E. But with Eddie? “Went, you know Eddie. How the fuck am i supposed to smoke weed with him? He’d have a seizure just seeing the stuff. And i’d never smoke it, anyway.” He added, unconvincingly.
“Drinking then.”
“Dad, we were just talking. Scout 's honor.”
“You’ve never gone to scouts, Rich.”
“And aren’t I glad about that. They’d give me a badge in knot making for the knot on the rope i’d use to hang myself.”
Wentworth just looked at his son and sighed.
“Go to bed, Richie. Your mum and I will talk tomorrow with you. If I ever catch you again you’re in big trouble, buddy.”
“Okey-dokey.”
He wasn’t worried. Wentworth and Maggie Tozier weren’t really much for discipline. Richie got into trouble all the time, and yet he had been grounded only twice in his life. Went looked relieved enough that he hadn’t been doing drugs, and let him go up to his room without any further comments. As he climbed up the stairs, he thought the universe had put himself against Eddie and him that night. Sonia and Wentworth on the very same night? Talk about bad luck.
He did have to face his parent’s the next morning, but, as suspected, they didn’t really scold him that much. Don’t do that again, just tell us if you want to stay later we don’t mind, all that sort of stuff. Richie was, of course, a little bitch, and would do it again without telling no one- he’d just use the window next time, extra precaution.
He practically flew out of the living room, his parents still looking concerned sitting on the yellowish couch, when Margaret appeared in the middle of the hall, holding something that suspiciously looked like a cigarette between her fingers.
“Margo! Are you smoking?”
Margaret sighed. “Obviously not. I was planning on smoking it in my room with the window open. Are you an idiot? This shit smells.”
She looked at her younger brother, his lopsided glasses and the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt he had thrown over a white T-shirt. Richie’s fashion sense was horrendous, but he never wanted to hear any of her advice. The fluorescent orange socks were the cherry on top of the cake.
She had been eavesdropping on the conversation a couple minutes ago and knew Richie had left the house at some point in the night. As it happens, she had known he had been doing this for at least a month now, but she saw no benefits in snitching, so she didn’t. She had supposed he was out with this mystery lover who had her baby brother completely smitten. Margaret had noticed the change: Richie spent the majority of his time practically bouncing of walls, hands always busy and mouth never fucking closing. He always found something to talk about, never mind how stupid or incoherent it was.
Lately, however, she sometimes found him smiling at himself, a shy, small smile she had never seen before, and his cheeks flushing ever so lightly. Or he would drop silent in the middle of dinner, a never occurring event, while he just stared at his food, hands fidgeting, as if lost in thought. Her brain itched for her to ask the question, to find the culprit of her brother’s unnatural behaviour lately.
“Wanna smoke one in my bedroom?”
Richie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”
She shrugged. “Common”
“Are you ill? You want me to fetch doctor Went Tozier and see if there’s something wrong in your teeth that might be causing brain damage?”
Margaret ignored him as they climbed up the stairs. Richie closed the door of the purple wall bedroom while his sister threw the window wide open. She flicked the lighter on and lit the cig, passing it to Richie once she had exhaled the smoke out the window. Richie copied her.
“Where were you last night?”
He groaned. “At Eddie 's! I already told mum and dad!”
“Common Richie. I know you’ve been escaping all these nights to go and meet her.”
He flushed a deep shade of crimson, and Margaret made a triumphant noise. “Aha! Fucking knew it.”
Richie grabbed the cig from his sister's hand and gave it a puff, his cheeks still hot.
“How’s it going?”
“How’s what going.”
“Her. You. Escaping every night to go sing ballades under her window. Oh my god is that what you’re doing?”
“You know I only do that to Angelina. Please.” Margaret punched his arm. “Ow!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t say that sort of stuff now that you have a girlfriend, Rich.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Oh?” Margaret turned to look at him, trying to read his expression, but it was a closed one, guarded.
“It’s complicated. I guess. I don’t know.”
“Try me.”
“She doesn’t like me. Like, at all. We just hang out and, you know. Stuff.”
“Richie, please tell me you’re being safe.”
“What? No!” He glared at her, blushing even deeper. “Not that!”
“Just saying…”
“Well say less.”
“But you like her, right?”
Richie dropped his head, staring at the cigarette that burned between his fingers. The smell of tobacco surrounded them, the light summer breeze that came in through the window making nothing to subdue the smell.
“Yeah.” he muttered at last. Margaret hummed.
“So you’re like, fuck buddies.” Richie glared at her. “And you have feelings for her and she’s got nada for you?”
He buried his head in his hands in response. Silence followed while Margaret searched for something to say that might help her brother.
“That sounds kinda wrong.”
“I know I know- I should've told her. Like she has no idea and i’m-”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Wrong from her . You’re gonna hurt yourself like that, Richie.”
“And what do I do? Talk to her? Tell her we have to stop?”
“Maybe.”
Richie stubbed out the cigarette on the window ledge. The sun shone bright in the sky over Derry, painting the houses yellow. From his sister's window he could see Eddie’s house, a couple blocks away. His bike was laying on his front lawn, just a dot on the grass from where Richie and Margaret stood. “I'd just rather have this with her than have nothing at all.”
Mike had both hands in his pockets, patiently waiting for the losers to stop bickering about the recording of the last scenes of the movie and video edits.
They had finished recording about an hour ago, in an abandoned house Bill had discovered a couple weeks ago while taking silver out for a ride. The house was slowly rotting and covered in dust, plants growing out of the cracked floorboards, and Bill had been ecstatic when they had broken into it for some site examination.
“Th-thats decided then. We have to shoot th-the f-final shot here.”
And so everyone had immediately gotten to work. The air felt excited with the thrill of finishing the movie, their very first movie, and Bill hadn’t stopped smiling the whole afternoon. Richie was glad to see him like this: Bill didn’t smile much, ever since that horrible summer with Georgie and It. It had been hard for everyone, but especially for him.
They all stood in the mouldy living room now, except Richie, Bev and Ben, who had gone exploring the alleged “haunted house” some minutes ago, as Richie had called it when they got there a couple hours ago.
“I bet there’s ghosts and shit in here” he had told the group while they crept inside, the flashlight on Bill's hand blinking on and off from time to time. Eddie shivered beside him.
“Shut up Rich!” he had half-wined, his eyes wide and darting from side to side.
“Kinda looks like the house of Neilbolt” , whispered Stan. Bev had loudly opened a door a few feets ahead of them, making the sunlight pierce through the darkness of the unlit corridor where the rest of the boys still wandered. She grinned, and Richie was only just reminded of the cheshire cat perched up on a tree in the movie he had watched with his younger sister a few nights ago. Jude loved disney movies and would always make Richie watch them with her, much to his very obvious and loud discomfort. Maggie Tozier would sweep in, tooting Richie about bonding sibling time or some other psychology shit she had picked up from a pediatric magazine in his dad’s clinic, and Richie would find himself trapped in the sofa watching yet another colorful movie filled with pretty dresses and long lost fairy tale castles. He actually really liked them, deep down, but that was something not even Eddie would be able to pull out his mouth.
“Chillax guys” Bev chirped, putting both her arms around Stan and Eddie. “We killed that sucker ages ago. Exploring abandoned stuff is suuuper dope.”
Eddie had looked unconvinced, and still looked unconvinced as he awkwardly stood in the dirty living room, warily eyeing a piece of mold growing on one of the couches cushions.
“We should get going, it’s gonna get dark soon and the last thing I want right now is my mum breathing down my neck” Eddie was saying when Bev’s red hair popped into the living room, followed by Richie and Ben, grins plastered on their faces. Ben was carrying a small notebook in his hands where he had been writing stuff about the old architecture of the decaying house or god knows what. His clothes were still covered in fake blood, and the teeth mark Bev had carefully drawn standed out on his neck, the skin surrounding it black and bruised.
“We found a dead body!” Announced Richie as he dropped on the rotting sofa, making a puff of dust rise from it. Eddie shrieked as he got away, evading the dust particles that danced under the sunlight that made its way through the cracks of the open blinds. Stan looked up, a glint of panic flashing in his eyes. Bev smiled not unkindly at him.
“He’s joking, Stan. We didn’t find anything.”
“Fuck off Richie! Not fucking funny.”
“Hey Mike” chipped Ben in, swiftly changing the subject “isn’t it your birthday soon?”
“Oh yeah! Whatcha gonna do?” asked Richie, still sprawled on the sofa.
“Oh, well I was actually gonna tell you guys now. You read my mind, Ben.”
“Ben’s g-g-got creepy te-telekinesis abilities” added Bill. It was true; Ben had a way of knowing what was going through everybody’s mind, and he was always so right it scared the shit out of Richie to come talk to him about his problems. Ben was the resourceful guy everyone went to when they had something bothering them in the back of their mind. He was kind, and a really good listener who didn’t judge. Richie had thought of discreetly talking to him about… that, try to explain it with half trues and white lies , but he was sure Ben would be able to read through him like an open book. So, he had decided not to.
“I was thinking of doing a slumber party at the farm in a couple nights. Mum and Dad are out for the night, so…”
“House to ourselves?” Richie sat up, a grin splitting his face in half.
Mike smiled back. “House to ourselves. Free will.”
“Fuck yeah!!” chanted Bev, punching the air.
“Oh oh oh! W-we should rent one of th-those r-rated g-g-gory films” said Bill. “I th-think i can make it to the v-video store t-t-today and grab one.”
“I'll go with you” , intervened Stan “i’ll make sure he gets a good one.”
“You g-guys have to let th-that go. It w-w-was one time.”
“Two hours of my life i’ll never recover and that emotionally scarred me for life”
“You’re such a pussy, Urine.” sighed Richie. “He’s right though. The movie you picked last time was over the top Eddie’s mum type trash. You’re banned from movie picking on movie nights, remember?”
“My mum what now?”
Bill ignored both of them with a wave of his hand. “Fine, fine, S-s-stan’ll join me.”
“Rich and I can go buy alcohol” smiled Bev, a mischievous grin brightening up her face.
“Your femme fatale distractions, my quick stealing fingers- we make a good team, girlfriend.” Richie wiggled his fingers and Bev scoffed, holding back a giggle.
“I’ll be early to help you plan, Mike,” Ben told the brown-skinned boy, who smiled gratefully at him.
Eddie looked at the floor, hot shame rising up his cheeks. He wished he could do something to help his friends, contribute in some way, but-
Richie dropped a hand on his shoulder. “It 's okay, Eds. Don’t sweat it.” He told him, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. He was amazed, as always, on the way Richie just always knew exactly what he was thinking or feeling. Eddie and Richie just had that connection- they could read each other like an open book. Eddie’s heart felt like it was being strangled under the warm gaze of his blue eyes, his insides melting from that half smile that felt like it was only for him, intimate.
“Try to convince her, and if not, i’ll sneak you out” He heard him say. Eddie urged himself to pull himself together, and ushered a quick “thanks”.
There were so many problems with sleepovers. Sonia Kasbrak hated to have her son a whole night away from her, and getting her to allow him to stay the night was an excruciating job that always sucked his energy like if it were a dementor sucking out his happiness. However, tonight, she was convinced fairly easily.
“Be back at nine am, Eddie bear.”
“Nine? Mommy but-”
“No buts, Eddie.” she smiled sweetly, though there was something too sweet about the smile, almost cloying. Eddie suddenly understood why she had agreed so easily. She felt bad, guilty even. It was the same discussion as always, the same thing they had fought about that night he had found Richie in the secret hideout, the night they had kissed for a second time.
“It’s not gonna work, mom.” he said so softly it sounded almost like a whisper. “I'm not gonna accept it any better just cause you let me stay the night at Mike’s. I’m not gonna be less mad at you just because you let me hang out with my friends, which, by the way, every normal parent lets their kids do without any meaning between the lines.”
“This is for the best, Eddie bear!” she pleaded. He had heard those same words a thousand times by now, and each time they came out of her mouth he believed them a little bit more. Still, it didn’t stop the hot tears from coming to his eyes. God, how could she be so selfish!!
“Maybe you’re the selfish one” whispered the voice in his brain which had strangely started sounding a lot like Richie’s.
“Whatever mom” he grumbled, and left before the tears started rolling down his cheeks, his chest filling with the feeling of impotence and sorrow. He hiccuped as he made his way to the corner store where he had promised to meet Richie five minutes from now.
Eddie had counted on those five minutes to recompose himself and soothe his heavy breathing, relying on Richie’s incorrigible tardiness, but he had been surprised to find him already standing in front of the bright neon 24-hours sign, wearing a plain white shirt he was sure he had raided his wardrobe to find and some beaten up converse. Eddie quickly tried to dry his eyes with a swift movement of his wrist, but too late: Richie had already spotted him, and his usual mischievous smile contorted into a worried grimace.
“Eds- Eddie are you okay?” he blurted, his eyes wide behind his large glasses. They made them look so big and goofy it almost made Eddie crack a smile.
“Yeah, yeah. Sonia Kaspbrak stuff. The typical.” he sniffed. He knew how he must look: eyes red, lips sore from chewing on them out of worry.
“You sure?” Richie put both hands on his shoulders and stared right at him, his worried gaze making Eddie’s stomach make a summersault. Maybe I should tell him, he thought, but there was so much to say that was subject sore he wouldn’t even know where to start. Richie would have to know eventually, but maybe not just now. “I'm fine,” he answered with a tight smile. Richie looked unconvinced, but didn’t insist any further.
They walked side by side, Richie trailing his bike beside them, Eddie’s hands slumped in his pockets. Richie filled the silence between them with insignificant rambling, which Eddie was extremely grateful for since he didn’t feel like talking. By the time they reached Mike’s farm, the tight knot in his chest had disappeared entirely, and he felt like he could breathe freely again.
Mike and Ben had decorated the living room with colorful balloons and banners. Low music played in the background, and the table had been filled with delicious goods and a cake with chocolate frosting. All of the losers were already there: Bill on his knees in front of the tv, trying to get the old CD-player to work; Stan and Mike lousily sitting on the sofa, and Bev and Ben whispering between them, heads close together.
They first watched the movie, filled with violence and blood as Bill had promised, which wasn’t as bad as Eddie had originally expected, but still pretty bad. They stuffed their faces with the sandwiches Miss Hanlon had left them, sang Happy birthday and gave Mike their shared present (a walkman with a pair of mix tapes they had all contributed songs to).
After night had fallen all around them, and the crickets had started their song outside the Hanlon farm, the losers decided to bring out the alcohol and “get the party started”, as Richie had whooped when he had seen Bev pull out the bottles of vodka and soda.
“We should play never have i ever” spoke Stan as they all sat in a circle in the middle of the living room. The open windows caused a small breeze, softly rufflying Eddie’s hair. He had ended up sitting beside Richie, unsurprisingly, and could feel his body warmth surpassing both of their shirts. Bev passed around small glasses filled up the brim with a liquid that looked much like water, and put the vodka bottle in the center.
“Be honest, the rest aren’t gonna judge” said Bev as she sat down besides Bill and Ben. “It’s not fun if yall just lie”
“Okay i’ll start.” Mike pondered for a bit “never have i ever… gotten a crush.”
“Pfffff laaame” said Richie as he took his drink in one gulp. Eddie followed, remembering the dumb innocent obsession he had developed on Greta Bowie when he was eleven years old. Everyone else also swallowed their drink, and the bottle was passed around to refill the gasses.
Stan raised his “Never have I ever had a sex dream about someone in this room.”
“Vile” giggled Bev as she drank hers, earning a curious glance from Ben. Almost all of them drank, except for Eddie and Mike. The whole “sex” thing made Eddie fairly uncomfortable, the thought of all the germs and body-fluids making his stomach sick. But then again, he had also thought that about kissing, and here he was, one month and half into this weird “friends with benefits” type of situation with Richie.
“ If you were so repulsed about kissing, why did you ask him to kiss the first time?” said the voice in his head. Eddie pushed it away, the second time this night.
The game continued on, with Eddie and the rest of the losers feeling lighter and lighter with each shot. He had to make an effort to keep his mouth shut each time questions like “never have i ever gotten a hickey” or “never have i ever been told i was a good kisser” came up.
“How are you so good at this?” Richie had whispered one night, maybe a couple weeks ago, as they sat on Eddie’s bed, lips close and hearts racing.
“Good at what- kissing?” he had giggled in return.
“Oh my god yes. The girl that dates you is gonna be so lucky”
Eddie couldn’t have explained it then, nor could now, where the icy cold feeling that had settled in his chest when Richie had said those words had come from. Richie hadn’t seem to notice, his teeth softly biting down on Eddie’s lower lip, making his whole body tremble.
“You’re not that bad yourself”
“You’re mum literally told me that same thing yesterday, what are the odds-”
“ Richie”.
Richie considered he had a pretty high alcohol tolerance, but every single one of the phrases had seemed to be aimed at him (specially the ones Eddie had come up with: “never have i ever made out with someone while having my mouth filled with ink” what the fuck was that) and so felt completely out of control. His mouth seemed to have a life of his own, and as if he were very far away, he could feel himself worrying about accidentally letting slip anything about him and Eddie. He thought he had been doing a pretty good job until Bev had said to play spin the bottle and the bottle had ended up choosing Eddie and him.
“Your turn Richie” Bev chirps, her words slightly slurred. She hands Richie the empty bottle, and he sets it down on the centre of the circle, giving it a small spin. He feels his stomach drop a little bit when it slowly comes to a halt in front of Eddie. He doesn’t trust himself to maintain control while kissing the other boy- he’s barely able to control himself when they kiss completely sober. However, not kissing was completely out of the question. Everyone had done it before them- Stan and Bill, Bev and Mike.
“Sorry Eddie my love, it seems you’ll have to violently make out with me now” he feels his cheeks becoming hot and prays all the other losers are too drunk to notice. “Try to not enjoy it too much, it's just a game Eds”
Eddie sighs beside him. “ Let's just get this over with. And don’t call me Eds.”
“Whatever you say Eds”
All the other losers silently and expectantly wait as Richie places both hands on Eddie’s cheeks. It feels so natural, a gesture he might have done dozens of times before and yet his heart still rushes like crazy, Eddie’s soft brown eyes making him feel high and woozy.
He bents over him, their lips brushing against each other and- oh wasn’t that magic. He could blame the alcohol. He could blame the natural response his body had developed to Eddie’s kisses. Heck, he could even blame Eddie for being so unbelievably hot and kissable. Like if it were happening to someone else, he feels himself deepening the kiss, Eddie somewhat pressing his body against his, his hands flying to the nape of his neck. His mind goes blank, only filled with the feeling of Eddie, Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s breathing synchronized with his, the alcohol making him taste bitter and sweet at the same time.
“Uh, guys?” he hears someone say, and the spell instantly breaks. They both spring apart, hot shame rising up his cheeks. Eddie looks confused, his nose wrinkled and his cheeks flushed. “It was just a peck. You guys can stop”
Richie feels the panic closing his throat. He’s unable to look at Eddie, scared he’ll find anger and betrayal in his brown eyes that always look at him with fondness or, if anything, mild annoyance.
“Sorry” he hears himself say. He hopes his voice doesn’t betray how shaken he feels. “He kisses just like his mother, and I just got carried away. Natural reflex.”
“Ugh Richie you’re so gross!” Bev cries out.
“Who’s turn is it n-now?” Questions Bill as he grabs the bottle from the centre of the circle. His stutter always calms down when he’s drunk, the words leaving his mouth freely.
“I think it was Mike”
“Nuh-uh, I already had a go. It’s Ben’s”
“I think I'm gonna go out for a while and take some fresh air.” Richie suddenly stands up. He feels dizzy, barely able to take a breath. “I think the alcohol is acting up, i'll be right back” he lies, stumbling out of the Hanlon’s living room.
He finds the front door and lets himself out, sitting clumsily on the front porch. The fresh air soothes his agitated breathing, feeling nice against his burning skin. What if he's wrecked everything? What if Eddie wants nothing to do with him from now on? He doesn’t think he could bear it. Sure, he knows it will eventually come to an end, but he always thought he had more time, more summer left to get his body ready for the loss.
“I knew there was something going on between the two of you” Ben drops beside him, startling him. His thoughts are muddled, unable to form a single coherent one. Maybe that's why he didn’t try denying it, or asking Ben why he thought that. Or maybe it was because Richie knew it would make no difference. Stupid Ben and his amazing people reading abilities.
“Do you think the other losers noticed?”
“Nah. They’ll blame it on the alcohol. Eddie has drunk a lot, and you… well, you’re Richie Tozier. You kinda joke about making out with Eddie at least 12 times a day.”
Richie buried his face in his hands. He felt like he was going to be sick.
“They won’t mind, you know” he hears Ben murmur after a while. “We’ve been through so much together, do you really think they’d shunn you guys for being gay?”
“It’s not that” he feels the knot on his stomach tighten. “Hell, we aren't even dating or anything similar. It's not a relationship, it's not an affair, it has no feelings in between. I just go to his house, make out, leave. It’s nothing. It 's practice.”
“Practice?”
“Practice kissing. For when we get girlfriends.”
Ben said nothing, the silence lingering between them.
“Its not nothing for you though, is it?” he asks after a while. Richie takes his time to answer.
“I think i've been in love with him since we were ten” he manages to say, his voice coming out strained. “But I didn’t realize it until that summer. I was so fucking scared of loosing him back then- of loosing all of you, of course, but i just couldn’t imagine living in Derry without Eddie. It hurt more, it was just… unbearable. To have to continue living without his laugh filling my ears or without his health safety speech going on and on 24/7… You guys were so amazed with beverly when she arrived, but i just couldn’t help but think “sure she’s pretty, but it's nothing compared to Eddie, and i don’t see anyone going crazy when we go swimming to the quarry or making googly eyes at him when he talks””
“Guess you were the one making googly eyes at him”
Richie laughs, a hollow sound compared to his usual real laugh. “Guess so.”
They fall silent again, the Hanlon’s sheep bleating out from somewhere far away. After a while, he feels Ben put his arm around him and give him a squeeze.
“It’ll be alright. You know, people might surprise you.”
“I doubt it,” he answers, more bitterly than he intended. “But thanks Ben. I really appreciate it.”
“What are friends for Rich”
“Definitely not to practice making out with ” he thinks miserably as he lets Ben lead him back indoors.
Notes:
IM BACK RAGHHHHH. Finaly finished this school year (senior year) and it was a NIGHTMARE. I haven't had that little free time in my life. I'll be finishing this fanfic really soon and will be publishing more stories now that i have vacations;) Thank you all that have waited and continue reading this story even though it has been on hiatus for like six minths (yikes). Love u guys!!!
Also the verbes tenses might be a bit wonky on this, i tend to change them in the middle of a scene. I tried to change them all back but some might have slipped. 😔😔
Chapter 5: Last first kiss and a lot of complicated emotions
Summary:
He didn’t know what he was doing in Richie’s house. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He did know what he was doing. Because, however much it pained him to admit it (not so much because of the feeling itself, but because he had to give Richie the pleasure), the other boy was right. He did miss him, if the kiss from moments before was anything to go by. And well, because the time had come. He had to tell him. He had planned on telling him the moment they saw each other, but he had been in such a good mood, so excited to see him…
“That’s just an excuse and you know it” said the Richie-sounding voice of his conscience “Richie’s always in a good mood.”
He was going to tell him. He was. He was just looking for the right moment. Which, admittedly, didn’t seem to come.
Notes:
LAST CHAPTER!!!!! I hope u guys enjoy it as much as i did :) If u see any mistakes pls tell me 😔 im trying my best but many things still slip out.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Eddie never mentioned the incident at Mike’s house. Was it because he didn’t remember or because he didn't want to talk about it, Richie didn’t know. They continued like normal, sneaking out at night and staying up till late, their heartbeats and shaky breaths filling the silence in Eddie’s bedroom each night. With each passing day, the summer came closer and closer to an end. When he came back from Eddie’s and let himself in his room after a careful climb through the window, Richie would lay in bed, fantasizing about continuing their- whatever this was- during the school year, sneaking out on the weekends and looking for free periods in which to feel his lips against his skin. Eddie gave no sign of wanting to end it, and so a spark of hope had started to grow in Richie’s heart.
However, the dreaded moment came on a sticky august afternoon. Richie had refrained from going to Eddie’s house because he had asked him not too, something about his aunts coming for dinner and staying at his house for the night. Skipping past Sonia Kaspbrack might’ve been easy, but two other gargoyles patrolling around the house was a hard escape, even for Richie.
And so, he sat on a beaten up puff, the game console loosely in his hands as he distractedly played the videogame that blared zapping noises from the screen. He dully felt the ache of not seeing Eddie that night, his heart giving him a light squeeze, but nothing he couldn’t manage. He’d see him tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. And the day after that.
His line of thought was interrupted by the soft sound of something hitting his window. Confused, he got up and threw it open, just to see an Eddie Kaspbrak standing in his back yard, hand filled with small pebbles, wearing a white pacman t-shirt and a pair of shorts.
“Hi Richie” he said, his voice sounding small from a distance. “Can I come up?”
“Of course,” he answered quickly, swallowing the awful knot that had formed in the back of his throat. What was Eddie doing here in the dead of night? Had something happened? Oh god, what if he wanted to break up? Could you call ending whatever they had going on breaking up? He wasn’t ready, he had thought they had a little bit more time. His mind rushed with a million possibilities, each one worse than the last. Maybe he had realised Richie was in love with him, and wanted to end their friendship. That couldn’t be, could it?
“Can you climb the pipes?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll guide you. Put your feet on that brown pipe down there and…”
In what seemed like forever, Eddie managed to climb the Tozier’s wall, and stumbled into the bedroom. Almost instantly his lips found Richie’s, lacing his hands behind the nape of his head and kissing him hot and fast. He felt a wave of relief washing through him, because if he wanted to end things, he wouldn’t kiss him, surely? Something about the kiss though, about the desperation in it made Richie believe it might be their last.
“Eds? Eddie are you alright?” he asked when their lips parted, drawing a shaky breath. Richie had a nagging feeling at the back of his mind. Eddie felt off. The whole situation, if he was being honest, felt slightly off. Almost… conclusive.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he answered, his lips slightly swollen. The other boy studied the rest of his face, searching for a clue in those big brown eyes of his that, as always, made his lungs forget how to draw a breath. You’d think he’d get used to Eddie’s stare, but he still felt his heart in his throat each time their eyes met.
He must have read the silent question on Richie’s face. “I was bored. Auntie Jenna and Heather went to bed early, and I've kinda gotten used to staying up late at night” he shrugged, a small blush spreading against his cheeks.
“Just say that you missed me” Richie wiggled his eyebrows. “Me and my sweet sweet tongue” he poked said tongue out of his mouth, making a series of slurping sounds that made Eddie’s face contort into a scowl.
“You’re disgusting. I’ve changed my mind, I’m going home.”
“Eds! I'm joking, come back here” he pouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer just as Eddie had begun to turn around and walk towards the window. He was smiling, but something didn’t feel fully right. He seemed so keen on ignoring whatever was bothering though, so Richie decided to leave it be. He was sure he’d tell him whenever he felt ready. Richie suspected it had to do with something Sonia had let out her fat mouth, or maybe one of her snotty faced sisters. As much as he joked about having sex with Eddie’s mum, he really hated her.
“So, how was it with old bat number 1 and 2?” he asked, letting himself drop on his bed, his legs dangling on the side. Eddie climbed on it too, hugging his knees with one arm.
“Meh, could’ve been worse” he shrugged. “They only kissed me twice so i consider that a win”
“Oh what i’d give to be kissed by auntie Heather’s fat juicy lips” Richie closed his eyes dramatically, and didn’t see Eddie’s socked foot coming until it hit him softly on the face. “Ugh! Eds! Don’t hit me with your stinky feet!” he grinned, swatting it away from him.
“ Stinky? My feet don’t stink, dickface” he glared. Richie turned his head to look at him.
“Aw, you’re so cute when you get angry”
“And you’re so cute when you shut up ”
“You don’t mean that, I know you get a boner just thinking about my jokes.”
“Beep beep Richie”
He let Eddie tell him about his horrible day with his aunts, the slow rumble of his voice making him feel drowsy. At some point, Eddie’s hand had found Richie’s tangled curls, and he had kept it there, absent mindedly stroking his hair. This was the only thing he had asked of the universe. Not to be liked, or to be understood . Just this.
Eddie’s soft voice filled the room, so close he felt the warmth of his body. He opened his eyes, just to find that the other boy had already been staring.
None of them had mentioned the word ‘practice’ for a while now, and Richie was left to wonder if that’s what they were still doing, or if it had developed into something else.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he smiled softly. Something warm bloomed in his chest.
Hope.
He didn’t know what he was doing in Richie’s house. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He did know what he was doing. Because, however much it pained him to admit it (not so much because of the feeling itself, but because he had to give Richie the pleasure), the other boy was right. He did miss him, if the kiss from moments before was anything to go by. And well, because the time had come. He had to tell him. He had planned on telling him the moment they saw each other, but he had been in such a good mood, so excited to see him…
“That’s just an excuse and you know it” said the Richie-sounding voice of his conscience “Richie’s always in a good mood.”
He was going to tell him. He was. He was just looking for the right moment. Which, admittedly, didn’t seem to come.
“So, anyway. Mum then made me help them paint their toe nails. Their toe nails !” he was saying, running his fingers through Richie’s hair. There was something intimate about that, he was sure of it, but he didn’t feel like thinking about his complicated feelings for his best friend. One thing was sinking his fingers in his dark curls while they were, you know, actively making out, but this? Where was the logical non-homoerotic explanation for this?
“And then” he continued, pushing away that line of thought “he made me get in bed with her. As if i wasn’t 16 years old, for fucks sake! I don’t need my mum coddling me to sleep”
“Maybe you don’t, but I sure do,” replied Richie, his head close to where Eddie’s feet rested, legs still pressed against his chest “have your mum coddle me, I mean. Not my own”
“For fucks sake Richie, don’t you ever get tired?” he glared at the other boy, who glanced sideways at him with a mischievous grin on his face. It made his heart ache for him, and god, he wanted to kiss that smirk off his face so badly.
“You just can’t even begging to imagine” he was saying “her and me, all close up on her bed, and mind you her ass is enormous, so when i hug her from behind i can mostly just hug her ass, you know, and it’s the sexiest-”
Eddie had gotten on all fours on the bed while Richie continued to babble absolute nonsense, and he covered his mouth with his own, making him instantly shut up. Richie made a strangled noise from the back of his throat, but was quick to kiss him back, holding Eddie’s face delicately between his hands. The scent of Richie, of the detergent Maggie Tozier used to clean her son’s clothes and the burnt smell of tobacco filled his senses, making it impossible to think about anything that wasn’t Richie, Richie’s hands, Richie’s lips, Richie’s glasses pressing against his face-
“I hate your stupid glasses” he complained, taking them off with a swift movement and placing them on Richie’s bed side table. He had to weirdly balance it over a couple of magazines and a box of tissue papers because, unsurprisingly, Richie’s room was a fucking mess and his nightstand was no exception. “They’re gonna end up bruising my face”
Richie smiled under Eddie, his cheeks flushed. He always looked so vulnerable without his glasses, and he could feel his heart melting at the sight of the other boy. “Well, we can’t let that happen. Eddie’s beautiful face, all bruised up! Great heavens, what will the press say?” he said in a horrible British accent.
“That’s the best British Voice you got?” he scoffed, noticing his cheeks turn red. Eddie 's beautiful face. Did he really believe that or was it just another way to mess with him?
“Well, you know I'm more of a German guy. Let me kiss zat pretty face of yours, ja?” he tried and miserably failed to imitate the German accent.
Eddie was properly on him now, smiling down at him with broth legs cradling Richie’s hips. Against his will, he felt a short giggle escape from his chest, and Eddie saw in real time Richie’s full expression brighten up. It was always a show, watching Richie realize he could actually be funny. And he genuinely was, more often than Eddie would want to admit. Richie lightly pulled Eddie by the collar of his shirt towards him and the other boy followed, pressing their lips together, their breaths becoming one. Fire grew in the insides of Eddie’s lower stomach as he deepened the kiss, Richie’s hands flying towards his hips, his thumb softly pressing against his skin. He couldn’t get enough of him; even though they were as close as two people could possibly get he needed him closer, wanted their skin to fuse together, their bones to melt into one. Their teeth clashed together; Richie’s pulled at Eddie’s lower lip almost painfully, but he couldn’t have cared less. He craved for more. Richie broke the kiss to take a quivering breath after a few moments and Eddie felt a pang of longing the moment their mouths stopped pressing against each other.
Richie didn’t continue kissing him though, a strange look transforming his features. Eddie couldn’t quite put his finger over it, but he suddenly felt more worried about what had caused it than what it meant. It took him a couple moments to realize what it was, which should have been alarming by itself because if his train of thought was going that slow, all the blood from his brain must have gone somewhere else. And that somewhere else was down.
Well. Wasn’t this the worst case scenario.
He felt his cheeks burning. This wasn’t happening to him. The universe couldn’t hate him that much.
Except it could, and this was happening, and Eddie only wanted the ground to swallow him whole. Heck, he’d rather deal with the stupid clown again rather than with Richie’s startled expression.
He needed to get out of there. He scrambled off the other boy, his brain racing with different excuses to get out of that house and never have to deal with the consequences of whatever had happened ever again. “I can’t do this” he was muttering “That’s it. I’m done”. He was going frantic, he knew, but what other way was he supposed to act in this situation? ‘Oh, sorry for popping a boner Rich, see, I just think you’re extremely hot and the way you kiss me makes me practically come in my pants. But no biggie, we can just continue to make out and ignore it. Or, better yet, let me go to your bathroom really quick and jerk it off to the feeling of your body against mine as I've been doing practically every night ever since this happened.’ God, what the fuck was wrong with him. He had to go.
As if he had read his mind, Richie sprung into action, holding his wrist to keep him from climbing out of the bed.
“Wait, Eds” he called out, his voice strained. “I’m- i’m hard too, so- it’s okay, you know?”
That’s when he realized the rock solid hard-on in Richie’s PJs bottoms. He was still looking at Eddie with the same look on his face, yet this time, Eddie recognised it: it was lust. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks pink, his hair looked like a mess- and yet, holy fuck how could he look so beautiful?
He hadn’t had anyone look at him like that before- like they were ready to take a bite out of him- and it made him feel warm all over.
“Do you want me to…” he made a blowjob gesture with his mouth and hand. Eddie felt electricity pulsing through his veins, but in an attempt to maintain the last shreds of dignity he still owned, he made his face contort into a scowl.
“Richie that’s disgusting”
“Your dick says otherwise" he smirked, and Eddie cursed himself mentally. He felt it twitching, damping his underwear with precum.
“You’re an idiot”
“An idiot that will suck your dick, if you let him”
How could Richie be so casual about this?! He thought in disbelief. Here he was, freaking the fuck out, while Richie seemed so fine with the idea of blowing his best friend. Just the idea of it made him feel dizzy.
“Are you serious?”
“One hundred percent”
Richie wasn’t really looking at him now, and instead had focused his gaze on his boner. Eddie held his breath as the other boy got closer, hooking his fingers onto the waist band of Eddie’s pajama shorts and giving it a soft tug, not strong enough to actually move them from their original place. He thought he was going crazy, crazy with the touch of Richie; nothing he hadn’t felt before, just his hands on his thighs and yet it was exhilarating. His mind fogged with desire, only one thought remaining in it: Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie-
“Can I?” he whispered, his voice coming out slightly rough. It sent a jolt of fire directly to his dick. He made an affirmative sort of noise, and Richie pulled his shorts and boxers completely off. A hot wave of shame washed through Eddie, who closed his eyes tightly, suddenly regretting the whole thing. He opened his mouth to say he had changed his mind but the moment he cracked his eyes open and saw Richie’s face, the words died on his lips. He was staring at it so intensely, his eyes looking almost completely black, his cheeks an even darker shade than it was before.
“I’ve never actually done this,” said Richie with a strained voice. His calm demeanor had seemed to slip away. “but i think it’ll be better if you sit on the edge of the bed and i sit in front of you”
“Oh, okay” he mumbled awkwardly in response and did as Richie had told him. The other boy dropped on his knees right between Eddie’s legs, and looked up at the last moment, staring at him through his eyelashes.
“You sure?”
“Yeah” his voice came out breathy. He could feel Richie’s hot breath against his dick and it was making his brain go absolutely feral. The way he looked, kneeled in front of him with his sore lips slightly parted wasn’t doing anything to help the situation.
“You can grab my hair if you want.” He took hold of Eddie’s hand and placed it on his dark curls, and Eddie was thrown back to moments before, when he had been stroking Richie’s hair in an absent minded way while he talked about his day. It had felt tender then, affectionate- there was nothing tender and affectionate about this.
Richie licked him first before taking him in his mouth, and Eddie’s mind went completely static. His thoughts jittered out, lost in the heat of the moment. Richie kept going, bobbing his head faster each time, his tongue twisting and turning and ripping out of him raw sounds from the back of his throat that he tried to muffle by biting hard on the hand that wasn’t still on Richie’s head. When everything became too much, he grabbed hold of his hair, yanking it. White hot pleasure exploded behind his eyelids that felt like he was breaking apart.
“Richie- Rich stop i’m gonna-”
Richie slipped it out of his mouth right at the last moment, the waves of the orgasm washing through Eddie as he came, getting it all over Richie’s floor and part on the other boy’s pajama bottoms. He fell backwards to the bed with a shuddery breath, every muscle of his body absolutely exhausted.
“Was it good?” asked Richie, plopping himself on the soft mattress right beside Eddie.
“ Was it good? ” he repeated incredulously. Good wasn’t a big enough word to explain how it had felt. He felt like he was coming back to himself with every passing second, and propped himself up with his elbows so he could stare at the other boy. He was still hard, his erection notizable under his pajamas. Richie spotted him staring.
“I can jerk myself off, you don’t have to do it- you know, liquids and germs and stuff.”
Eddie felt touched. Leave it to Richie to genuinely care about his wellbeing at any given time. He was grateful, but at the same time he wanted to do it- or maybe even needed to, judging by the way his body was practically begging him to touch the other boy, to make him feel as good as he had made him feel. He wasn’t about to put it in his mouth, he wasn’t crazy, but-
“No- I’ll do it” he said, pulling down his pants and boxers all at once. It sprang out, smacking Richie on his lower abdomen, and Eddie had to take a double take.
“What the actual fuck.”
“What?”
“Richie, that thing is fucking massive.”
He grinned devilishly. “Well, i did warn you i gave a monster dick”
“And since when do I believe anything that comes out of your mouth?” he huffed, and after spitting on his own hand to create some sort of lube, he started stroking him, making whatever retort Richie had planned on saying die on his lips, replaced by a choked incoherent sound.
Richie dropped his head on Eddie's shoulder, his breath shaking as Eddie worked on moving his hand up and down. He felt powerful, knowing it was him who was making Richie feel like this, it was him who was wrenching those glorious whimpers out of his mouth, it was because of him he had been reduced to a shuddering mess. His head was still on his shoulder, the sweat of his forehead trespassing Eddie’s shirt, his black curly hair tickling his neck.
He came, his back arching, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His face shimmered with sweat, his hair had curled even more at the nape of his neck because of it. Cheeks flushed, eyes wide- he looked like an angel. Then he grinned that Richie Tozier grin, and the illusion crumbled away. His insides turned to jelly just at the sight of it and could feel himself almost getting hard again.
That was fucked up. Who the hell gets hard because of a smile?
In fact, everything was fucked up. He scrambled to get on his feet and looked around at the mess they had made, Richie’s sheets ruined, his floor sticky, his hands sticky, and Richie half naked on his bed, staring at him with a mixt of confusion and worriedness at his sudden rise from the bed. Or at least that’s what it looked like, but he might’ve just been squinting his eyes to try and figure out Eddie’s face, his glasses still standing on his nightstand.
The sudden crashing realization of what they just did hit him. Of what it meant. And of what the fact that he’d do it a hundred times more meant, the fact that his bones seemed to ache for the feeling against him. It was all too much. His breathing became shallowed, his lungs moving quickly as if longing for air. He felt like he was choking- he needed his inhaler.
“What 's wrong?” asked Richie. He was now sitting on the bed, after grabbing his glasses and placing them lopsided on his face. Eddie had the urge to reach out and straighten them. He didn’t.
“I don’t know”
There was something about the situation- maybe the stained sheets, maybe the ridiculous way Richie looked with his boxers down and his dick out, maybe the way his hiccups filled the room- that made him absurdly want to laugh. He started giggling, which turned into something of a hysterical laughter when Richie’s already concerned face contorted into genuine worry.
“Eds, you’re making no sense.”
“Don’t-” he cut himself short. “I know,” he said instead, half hiccuping half laughing "I'm sorry”
“Don’t be”
“I’m gonna take a shower” said Eddie after a beat of silence. “I feel sticky”
Richie cracked a half grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Grab whatever you need from my closet”
“Thanks”
He went to grab the door handle but at the last moment, he turned to stare at him, as if pondering something, and after a moment of stillness he reached out and straightened his glasses.
Richie felt terrible. He had let desire take over his rational side (not that there was much of a rational side to begging with) and now Eddie was crying in the bathroom. Fuck.
He was also extremely confused. He had been so sure Eddie had wanted this- had he read it wrong?
While he pondered about all this, he put on a clean set of PJs and changed his bedroom sheets, just to make time while Eddie finished in the shower. He then sat on the edge of his bed again, nervously pulling at the loose strings on his pajama top- a blue t-shirt with a drawing of goofy.
It had been… well. There were no words to explain it. Better than he had ever imagined. And he had imagined it, thousands of millions of times. Richie was, after all, just a horny teenager with a lifelong crush on his best friend. Not only that, but he had never seemed interested in anyone that wasn’t Eddie. Sure, there had been that one summer with Connor Bowers… but it had been so brief it wasn’t even worth mentioning it.
None of that was important if he didn’t find a way to fix all this with Eddie. He mentally planned out what he would say when he got out of the shower- first, he’d say sorry. He was very truly horrifically sorry and that he had never meant to get this far with him. Then say- say he hadn’t really been thinking. That was good. He had been lost in the moment and hadn’t really realised what was going on, just that he was hard. It was tough to think straight with a boner. It's more like your dick does your thinking for you. And then how to make it not gay… maybe he could say he had been picturing it was his mum the whole time? That wouldn’t make any sense though- why would he need to blow a woman? That's not how it worked, was it?
His line of thought was interrupted too soon by the door opening beside him. “ Wait, I haven't decided what to do yet!” his brain shrieked. Well. He’ll just have to wing it. Might’ve just been his middle name at this point. Richie lets wing it Tozier.
“Eds, I'm so sorry i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable i just-” he rushed out, but he never got to actually finish his overly thought apology because Eddie interrupted him with a soft kiss on the lips, shutting him up instantly. He smelled slightly like his own shampoo, and his skin was soft under his touch. His wet hair tickled the sides of his face.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I- well, didn’t mean to freak out” he replied sheepishly after breaking the kiss, a small blush growing across his cheeks. ‘ He’s adorable ,’ Richie couldn’t help but think. “It was great, actually. You’re actually as good as you claim you are” at that he offered a real smile, and Richie finally felt like he could breathe again. Maybe everything wasn’t all that fucked up.
“I told you your mum loved it when I blew her. Told me it was the best blow job she’d ever had.”
“You can’t blow a woman Rich!” he shot back, the smile not really leaving his face. He felt that faint warm feeling filling up in his chest again. “That’s not how it works.” Eddie had continued saying. He sighed. “I am sorry. You must have freaked out.”
“You reckon?”
“I just… don’t know what this is, or what we’re doing.”
“Yeah, me neither, but- we can figure it out.” he sounded so hopeful. It broke Eddie’s heart.
“We… we can’t. Richie, I-” he seemed lost at words. Richie gave him an encouraging nod. His heart felt like it was being squeezed. Like orange juice being squeezed out of an orange, but insteadnit was the life being squeezed out of his heart. “We’re moving” he managed to say at last.
“You’re changing houses?” he asked, confused.
Eddie smiled. It was a sad smile. “No, Richie; I’m moving away. To a different state.”
Oh.
Richie’s face must have betrayed all the questions he had at that moment because Eddie began to explain. “I’ve known since the beginning of summer. Mum- she sais Derry is a fucked up town, and she wants to get away. She’s right, of course. This town fucking sucks.” he sighed. “I fought with her many times because of this. That one time we made out at the club house,right at the beginning of summer. Do you remember?”
Of course he remembered. He remembered each and everyone of the small moments he passed with Eddie, each carefully classified inside his brain to relive each time he was alone and missed the other boy. Which was constantly.
“Anyways. She didn’t have a date planned out yet so i figured it wasn’t really worth it to rile you lot up yet. Remember with Bev, when she said she was leaving? You all turned into a bunch of hysterics. And she didn’t even leave at the end”
“That’s why she left you stay at Mikes,” he said softly. It wasn’t really a question but Eddie answered it anyway.
“Yeah. I guess she felt bad.”
Richie felt like his heart had been stripped out of his chest. This. This was his worst nightmare. Not the clown, not stupid Henry Bowers. This. Derry without Eddie. Life without Eddie.
"Don't leave me, don't leave me hanging alone." He thought miserably. Instead, he said, trying to keep his voice even: “When are you leaving?”
“Next week. She told me today.” he sniffed. “That’s why my aunts came by, to help her sort out all our stuff and shit.”
He put an arm around the smaller boy, his thumb drawing circles on his back in a soothing way.
“I'm sorry” he repeated, voice soft. “I should’ve told you sooner, i just-”
“It 's okay, Eds. It 's okay. We’ll make it work. We have to.” He kissed the top of his head. It was such a sweet gesture, so filled with love it made Eddie want to break down all over again.
At some point growing up, girls had become a big deal in the boys’ lives. They all wanted a girlfriend, and it wasn’t unusual to hear them discussing the girls in their class when Bev wasn’t around to tell them off and look sick. Whose boobs were bigger, whose panties they had gotten to glimpse at the cheerleading practice last week or which girl had the prettiest lips, or the best ass. Richie was the loudest of them, the most enthusiastic, and Eddie couldn’t help but think that no girl in her right mind would actually want to date Richie Trashmouth Tozier. Richie, with his abnormally long body, crooked teeth and colorful brackets, and a messy mop of black hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in years. Richie with his uncomfortable sense of humor, rude jokes and annoying personality. “ Who’d want to date him ?” he would ask himself, not with malicious intent but genuine curiosity. When Richie explained the utmost disgusting stuff he had read on the margins of his text book about kissing that some boy had written who knows how long ago, Eddie couldn’t help questioning how it would be like to kiss the other boy. “ not in a gay way!” He always told himself, and he really did believe it was a genuine statement. What would the girl Richie kissed think? What would it be like? Would it be awkward and messy? Would their teeth clash, their foreheads bump? How would his chapped lips feel against her plump ones? Would he taste like cherry chapstick after kissing her?
Maybe she’d leave right afterwards, disgusted and feeling bad about herself. Or maybe Richie would turn out to be a great kisser, with all his acquired knowledge from writings on bathroom stalls and overheard conversations from the boys beside them at the library (though he somewhat doubted that)
Eddie thought about all this as he watched from the backseat of his car, neck turned as he looked back the rearview window at his friends still standing on the old dirt road. They all miserably waved at him, and he waved back, the smile tight on his lips, forced, unnatural.
Richie seemed one step ahead from everyone, his eyes rimmed with red Eddie only guessed that matched his own. His hair was a mess of black curls, his glasses sat lopsided on the bridge of his nose, and Eddie had that sudden urge he had grown accustomed to to push them straight, to sink his fingers in his hair, to feel his lips against his own.
Maybe the question shouldn’t have been how Richie tasted afterwards, he realizes now, but how she’d taste. Every normal person would have thought that. All the signs had been there, Eddie just hadn’t wanted to see them. And he wouldn’t taste like cherry chapstick, no, he’d taste like cigarettes and gum and something sweet, something that made him so addictive.
“Who’d actually fall in love with Richie Tozier?” his 11 year old voice whispered into his brain. His mouth felt sour with dread as he realised, as the reality of all he hadn’t let himself ponder too hard about came rushing to him.
He would. He did. He fell in love with the boy behind the enormous glasses that would sometimes hit him in the face while they made out. With the boy with the wide grin and horrible Voices. With his best friend.
The car rode away as ugly tears dropped from Eddie’s eyes. He couldn’t see them anymore. They’d disappeared with the distance and the clouds of dirt the car was picking up. He turned away and, with glassy eyes, stared at the long road ahead of him. “I’ll call everyday” he promised himself. “I'll write to them. I won’t let them forget me.”
To his credit, Eddie had kept his promise for the first two months, but as time passed, his calls had drifted further and further apart, until he could only remember the feeling of Richie’s kisses, the soft smell of his cologne, but not the boy that came with it, not even a name or a glimpse of his eyes. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and grab the phone beside his bed ready to dial a number he had long forgotten, and the moment his fingers grazed the numbers he'd have already failed to remember who he wanted to call and why.
In 1992, the calls stopped and Richie knew.
“It’s just something about Derry” Bill had said when discussing Eddie’s mysterious lack of response “the longer you go away, the more you forget.”
“Do you think the city subconsciously messes with your head to protect the clown, to keep it away from the rest of the world?” Ben had asked, genuine fear behind his normally calmed eyes.
“I think so”
Richie hadn’t been paying attention. He just knew. Eddie had forgotten them. Edddie had forgotten him.
Notes:
I've been saying of writing and publicating fanfiction ever since i was 13 i think- AND THIS IS THE FIRST ONE I'VE ACTUALLY FINISHED AND POSTED!! Crazy stuff, ik.
This was also my first time writting smut so if it sucks im sorry 😔 but i did think it was important for the plot line and for everything to lowkey fall apart, thats why i put it in there. I'll get better i swear🙏🙏
Yall have been so supportive, i get so happy each time i get a comment in the inbox so TYSM TO ALL OF U ❤️❤️❤️ it genuinley makes my day better.