Trashmouth's Lover Boy | Richie Tozier x Male OC

2.17 - Derry's Gone.

After coming to this realization, we all agreed to head out and go to another state. Where? California.

We all agreed to move into a neighborhood and have it be our neighborhood. We could change the street name to Losers' Street. Or maybe Losers' Road.

I called my assistant, who runs my private jet, and asked him to pick us up from Derry, Maine. He agreed.

Now we're all headed to the airport to get into my private jet. It was a decently quiet ride. Calm music was playing. Two people were in a car, so we had four cars.

Bill and Stan in one car. Beverly and Ben in the second. Mike and Eddie in the third. And Richie and I in the fourth.

I'm just leaning against Richie with his arm around me, holding me closer to him.

We pull up to the airport, and we get out of the car. The others are right behind us as we walk into the main area.

I explained to the lady that I've got a private jet, and I pointed at it and pulled out my registration for it.

She let us go, so we climbed aboard my jet. I ended up falling asleep on the way to California.

When we got there, we called more taxi's and they took us to the street I purchased for us all. Bill wanted to pay me back , but I refused because this was my idea.

There were five houses, the couples living together. Stan and Bill in one. Beverly and Ben in the other. Eddie and Mike had their own houses. Finally, Richie and I had our own.

"Remember what you said before we went to kill the clown?" I ask Richie once we walk into our new house.

He thinks for a little while and says, "No? What'd I say?"

"You said, 'We stay, we die. We leave, we die. And if we stay, we have to deal with it and let it kill us. But if we leave, we have maybe a decade to live and thrive with each other. Yes, we may kill ourselves. But it's better than It killing us. Mike already stated that only one of us would make it if we tried killing it. So let's just leave. We can have sex as much as we'd like. We could adopt a child and live our lives.' "

Richie smirks and steps closer to me, "So you want to have as much sex as we'd like?"

I sigh and shake my head. "I want to adopt a child, or a cat, or something."

Richie pulls me in for a hug. "We could adopt and have sex." He continues to smirk.

"Let's just focus on the adopting part." I say, feeling me cheeks heat up tremendously.

"Fine..." Richie says, the smirk still on his face. "Starting tomorrow."

He drags me to the bedroom, and I think anyone would know what happened next. For short terms, we went past hickeys.

The next day

I woke up and rolled over to see a naked Richie. I grin and shuffle out of bed. We need to wash these sheets.

I put on a simple outfit of black jeans and a light grey tank-top. I slipped on some grey socks and went into the kitchen to make food.

I made pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, and toast. It's a big dinner because yesterday we all agreed to eat at my place today.

Richie came downstairs in actual clothes. He pressed a kiss to my cheek and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Richie. People are going to be here soon. Stop being horny." I scold.

He laughs and goes to the living room so he can watch T.V. while we wait for the losers to arrive.

I hear a knock, and Richie opens the door. They all shuffle to the kitchen right as I finish with most of the food. Toast just takes a minute in the toaster, so I pull out butter and a knife.

They all sit at the counter as I serve the food. I pop four pieces of toast in the toaster. Once those pop out, I put four more in the toaster for the last ones. If they want more toast, they can make it themselves.

We all ate and talked about our lives before Mike's call. We talked about the summer of '89. We talked about everything, just catching up with each other.

My abdomen started hurting, so I excused myself to the bathroom to check it out. I lift my shirt and see the bandages I always put on it for precautions.

I remove the bandages and see that it's bleeding again. It's almost like a period, but I bleed from my stomach.

I grab more bandage wrap and rewrap my stomach. The pain is shallow and barely noticeable, but still there.

I walk out of the bathroom and go back to the dining room. I finished eating my food before refocusing on the conversation.

They were talking about work. Stan's an accountant. Bill's an author. Beverly is a fashion designer. Ben's an architect. Eddie's a risk analyst. Mike is currently unemployed since he used to work as Derry's librarian. Richie is a comedian. And I'm an actor.

"Yeah, what about your movie, Bill. You can't just restart it with someone else." I say. Bill had said something about restarting it.

"Why no-ot?" He asked. He barely stutters anymore, so I'm proud.

"Because then your ex-wife will murder you and me. At this point, just hire a new actress for that role." I say. "She sucks at acting, if I'm being honest here."

"She does suck, but I only hired her because she was my wife at the time." Bill agrees.

"Okay, well, I do not want to kiss her, so please hire someone else." I practically beg.

"I was going to." Bill agrees.

"Fuck yeah!" I cheer. I don't want to kiss her.

1000 words (not including this)
Kiss counter - 9