Credit: billdenbroughing
Trigger Warnings: Unknown
It's not like it was Richie's fault that 'Fuck you, I'm saving it for your sister. And don't call me that!' was tattooed on his arm. It really wasn't. But he just needed to know; why in the fresh fuck was his soulmate going to say that to him?
Bill forced Richie to go to a kid's house on the November afternoon. Richie, like any other socially awkward seventh grader, refused to go. At least introduce me to him at school, he had said, what if he turns out to be a mass serial killer? And I die? I'm too pretty to die so soon!
Bill made him go anyways.
Richie was still skeptical about the whole ordeal.
The ride over there was stressful. Richie almost fell off his bike a handful of times, Ben telling him to "S-Shut the f-f-fuck up, he w-won't kill you," and worst of all, they had to go past the Neibolt house. The Neibolt house, for Christ's sake! The kid's house is probably haunted!
"Bill, he lives near the fucking Neibolt house. Do you really think I wanna die before I meet my soulmate?" Bill of course didn't understand, since he already found his in another one of the duo's best friends, Stan. Richie deemed it bullshit. The moment Stan told Bill "It's a kippah, I'm Jewish," Richie was a third wheeler on every hang out.
Arriving at the kid's house, Bill knocked while Richie contemplated how he wanted to go out by this serial killer. His heart was set on it.
"Hey, Bill," Richie heard a small but firm voice announce, "who's your friend?"
"T-Th-This is Rich-ich-Richie. Say hi, Richie."
Richie hesitantly looked over. The boy was cute, he guesses. He could hear Bill's voice already ringing in his head, telling Richie h-he's not as cute as S-Stan-anley.
So, Richie settled for an awkward wave. The kid waved back. They didn't speak a word.
"F-Fucking weirdos. Richie, t-that's Eddie." Eddie. Had a nice ring to it, he supposes.
"Eddie?" Richie says to Bill, and he nods. "Hi Eddie, I'm gonna call you Eds, what the fuck are those pills for in your hand? Birth control?"
Eddie scoffed. "Fuck you, I'm saving it for your sister. And don't call me that!"
Eddie dropped his bottle of pills.
Richie stared dumbfoundedly at the boy.
"Bill what the fuck? First you take me to Neibolt street, now you're telling me the person who I thought was gonna murder me is my soulmate? Oh fucking hell,"
"Don't fucking hell me! I had to live thirteen years with birth control on my arm, y'know others get a really sweet conversation, and I get someone asking me about birth control! You're lucky you're a cute one, or else I would've beaten your ass, I've seen some kids get ugly soulmates, guess I lucked out," Eddie ranted, pacing back and forth. Richie blushed, but hid it in his hands.
"Oh, you guys a-a-a-are l-like,"
"Yeah, B-B-Bill, and I've had 'your sister' tattooed on me for this fuckin' dweeb,"
"I'm not a dweeb!"
"Y-You're kind of a d-dwe-eeb."
"Shut up Bill!" The pair squealed in unison.
"Listen Eddie, you're kinda a dweeb. Accept it, because this fuckin' arm tattoo says we gotta be together forever. Sadl-"
"Don't finish that sentence! Why couldn't I get a partner with a good personality?"
"I do have a good personality, dick. You could've ended up with like, Stan Uris or some shit!"
"S-Shut the fuck u-u-up Richie," Bill snarled, trying to seem intimidating.
"Sh, Bill. Let's just go inside so I can ignore the idiot I have to spend forever with," Eddie let them in, rubbing at his temples and picking up the orange bottle.
"That was rude, I'm a good person!" Richie adjusted his glasses and put on a, inaccurate, British accent. "I do believe, my good sir, you are not supposed to insult the ones you're supposed to be inlove with,"
"Shut up, dude! For the love of god, say it, don't spray it, you know how many bacteria are in someone's mouth-"
