Show Some Support

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Chapter 5: part 1

"What. The. Fuck." Richie clenched at the laminated magazine papers, feeling a intense flush of red crawling over his face, demanding its rightful place on his pale skin.

"No seriously. What the fuckle dude. Like holy fucking shit, wowza. This is just. Fucking—" he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "wow."

Mike sat across from Richie, a doppey grin splaying over his lips, with faux innocence.

Bill watched the scene play out from his doorframe, leaning against it and trying desperately, and failing, to not snicker at it.

Mike and Richie sat at two opposite ends of Bill's bed.

In Richie's lap, was a Play Girl magazine. Correction, 4 Play Girl magazines, all of which Mike somehow got a hold of. That for some reason Mike decided to get. And even more bazaarly, thought to bring them to Richie of all people.

It reminded Richie very fondly of when he would bring very similarly, the Play Boy counterpart of these magazines too his friends house's. He had always enjoyed flipping through them, but never on his own time, only when he was in the company of the other Lozers. He just liked watching the reactions of his friends as they looked at the many different imagines of scantily clad or basically naked women in the pages. How they would start stuttering, or blush in embarrassment. Or just stare like idiots.

Richie quickly realized, finally it was his turn to look like the idiot, blushing the same way his friends always would.

"Why—How did you get these??"

"I have my ways. Don't worry" Mike said, nonchalantly.

Unfortunately, Richie was worried.

"I—" Richie tried to begin but felt panic rise up in his throat when he slowly lifted the cover, looking curiously at the first page. He was greeted by a large, muscular man, hair on his chest, glistening with oil. He was unnaturally tan, and laying on some type of fur blanket, a smirk on his face, glass of wine in his hand, wearing nothing but a tight speedo. He slapped the magazine close, and put them away under a few of his things.

He had to compose himself. This was his friend trying to be supportive.

"Thanks I guess?" Richie was able to muster up after a moment. Mike just smiled in response, bright white perfect teeth dazzling between his lips.

Richie had stayed the night at Bill's house as planned. Telling, but not in full detail, the basics of what happened that night he got home. Bill's mother urged him to stay with them for a while, but Richie knew he would have to get back to his parent's house by the end of next week or they would just get angrier.

It was morning, and Mike came to pick Bill up to go to the arcade. But first he wanted to quickly say hello, gifting Richie something before they had to leave.

Well that was definitely something.

Richie had explained to Bill that night that he didn't want to go, and despite his fears, he seemed to understand, and promised he'd explain it to everyone else for him.

That seems the be the running theme for all of Richie's fears, his friends were too filled with love and understanding for anything truly wrong to happen.

As he watched the two of them shuffle around the room, counting the money they collected, Richie sunk back into Bill's mattress. He was covered in blankets, and his glasses were most likely somewhere on the floor, but he didn't care to look right that moment.

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