Richie rolls over in the morning light, his hand reaching out to the other side of the bed just to find cold sheets.
He sits up, his heart rate accelerating as he looks around his room for signs of escape. However, he spots Eddie's jeans still on the floor, the shoes paired next to Richie's boots. Richie releases the tension in his muscles, sighing out in relief.
He fumbles around on the desk for his glasses, slipping them onto his nose as he gets out of bed. He doesn't want to walk around the house shirtless, so he picks up the first shirt that he finds on the floor and slips it over his head. A bit short, but that might be because it happens to be Eddie's shirt instead of anything that belongs in Richie's closet.
Richie stops by the bathroom, finding it empty but steam still trapped against the mirror, letting him know he's getting warmer to the location of his little fauna boy.
He descends the stairs, hearing sounds coming from the kitchen. Perhaps Eddie is cooking breakfast? God, they truly do feel like a married couple, like they're living out that life that Eddie wrote all about having in his leather bound journal.
When Richie rounds the corner, a smile on his face, he finds the company of two other people in the kitchen as well, which causes him to stop dead in his tracks.
Eddie looks up when Richie enters, a soft smile finding its way onto the boy's youthful features. Richie, however, seems to fixate on the fact that Beverly and Bill are sitting at the table sharing a pot of coffee together.
When Richie notices that he's wearing Eddie's shirt, he backs up and hides himself behind the doorframe. Eddie shakes his head, waving the boy in confidently. Eddie himself is still only in boxers and Richie's shirt, so it's not as if Richie is exposing something that the two haven't already seen on his counterpart's body.
"Oh, hey Rich!" Bill welcomes his brother in, watching the way that Richie slowly approaches the spot that Eddie's standing at.
"Hey..." Richie says quietly, leaning his back against the counter. He looks down, watching the way that Eddie spreads cream cheese on a bagel. When Eddie notices that Richie's staring, he smiles and puckers his lips out, lifting his head up for the tall one to get the hint. Richie leans down just far enough for Eddie to kiss his cheek, then the smaller one bounces back down on his feet and takes a bite of his breakfast.
"We're thinking about going down to the mall," Bill explains. He doesn't think anything of the kiss that he's just witnessed, and Beverly's far too focused on the newspaper to be paying attention in the first place. "What do you think? Sound fun?"
Richie looks over at Eddie, who turns around so he can lean against the counter as well. He waits for someone to reply, but Richie isn't sure what all has been said between the three while he was sleeping. Have they made amends? Is Eddie okay being in the same room as Beverly? How long was he even asleep for?
"I don't know," Richie says a bit quietly, "Seems like a lot of people."
"We could go to the Barrens," Eddie suggests.
"No way," Bev pipes in. She looks up for the first time all conversation, her eyes looking at Richie in particular. She raises her eyebrows, but makes no comments. "Too cold for that."
"Ben has an arcade game in his basement," Richie suggests.
Bev frowns, looking towards Bill incredulously. Richie instantly recoils, turning around to face the counter so he can busy himself with trying to wipe away the crumbs that Eddie left behind. He doesn't like seeing such blatant rejection.
"I think that's a good idea," Bill says in that voice he uses whenever he's convincing the rest of the group of something. "Ed?"
"Yeah," Eddie nods besides Richie, leaning over just the slightest so that their arms are touching. Comforting. "Stan and I are talking again, we've been talking about sort of getting the gang together again. Do you have Hanlon's phone number?"
Bill hesitates, but then says "Ah, no..."
"I do," Richie speaks up, turning around to face them again. "I know his number."
What Richie means is that he knows all of their numbers, but he won't admit that. There are some things he can't just delete from his memory, no matter how hard he tried to forget Derry.
"Then go get ready, weirdo!" Beverly exclaims, suddenly all on board with the idea. She was hesitant about seeing her ex, but the idea of seeing everyone else back together seems to outweigh that anxiety she has. "Dress warm, my car's broke down so we're walkin'."
"I could call-" Eddie starts out, but then shuts his mouth and forces a smile, excusing himself to go find his pants upstairs.
Richie watches him go, left with Beverly and Bill in the silence of the kitchen. Once they hear the stairs quit creaking and the sound of Richie's bedroom door shutting, Bill turns his attention towards Richie.
"You guys together?" Bill asks.
"Bill!" Beverly kicks his leg under the table, "You can't just ask-"
"Why not?"
"Because that's not our business!"
"It's fine," Richie speaks up, his voice wavering a bit. He shrugs uncertainly, not quite sure of how to phrase it. "We're not... dating... per se."
"Yet," Beverly points out, which earns a quick slap against the arm from Bill.
"And you call me rude?" Bill scoffs.
"I'm gonna go get dressed," Richie remarks, pushing himself away from the counter to start trekking towards the hall that Eddie disappeared through. He can hear the two squabbling like an old married couple behind him, which makes him wonder if this is how Stan sees him and Eddie.
Eddie's sitting on the bed when Richie enters, his knees tucked up to his chest and his chin resting on top of them. His legs are smooth and unblemished, nothing like Richie's at all.
"Hey," Richie says softly, shutting the door behind him. "Everything okay?"
Eddie shrugs, folding his arms over his legs as well to rest his cheek on his bicep.
Richie comes and sits next to him on the bed, unsure of how to push the attitude change without upsetting this peaceful energy they've been putting out. It's not that he's afraid of Eddie, he's just scared of fucking it up.
"We're fucking bad at communication," Richie says truthfully. He turns on the bed, his knee pressing into the side of Eddie's hip. "That's why things were fucked the first time. Let's do better. Talk to me."
Eddie glances at him in surprise, then shifts his body around until he's facing Richie. "I think I'm just a little confused about everything, like," he begins to play with the material of Richie's sweatpants to distract himself. "I guess I need clarification on where we're going. What was last night? I've never done that with anybody before... I don't think I want to, either."
"Well," Richie takes a breath in. "It can be whatever you want it to be. If it was just an accident, that's fine. I won't mind. We'll still be friends either way."
Eddie stops touching the sweatpants and instead starts prodding at Richie's thighs, gently running his hands along the legs that he knows are covered in bruises. "What do you want? It's not just up to me, this goes both ways. Are you ready for that type of relationship?"
"I don't think so," Richie shakes his head. "At least not openly, not like Bill and Bev. I don't know, Eds, it's so hard to explain everything that goes on in my brain."
Eddie nods, taking Richie's left hand in his own and tracing his thumbs along each crack and crevice in Richie's wide palms. He touches the "love" line that he's seen psychic readers on TV talk about, and he whispers "So, what, are we friends that kiss? Or what? I'm confused, I need... I need some sort of label to at least help me understand where I am in your life."
"I think you were my first love," Richie responds with ease. It's getting easier to talk these days, especially with Eddie. But that was to be expected, wasn't it? "If we do this right, you might be my only love."
Eddie smiles, "I like the sounds of that."
"Yeah?" Richie asks, letting his free hand cover Eddie's restless fingers. "So... until I get my shit together, we'll just be friends. I know it's going to be hard to go back from what happened last night, but I want to make sure all my screws in my head are tightened up so that I can be there for you, all in."
"That sounds fine," Eddie nods. "Have you considered therapy? I try to help as much as I can, but I'm just a boy. There's only so much I can do for you-"
"No, I know," Richie cuts him off, rubbing the boy's frail wrist, "I'm very grateful for what you do. I know I need other help. That's just scary."
"Well," Eddie says. "Look at us. You were scared of me for the first three weeks you were back, now we're sleeping together again. I think you're capable of more than you'd like to admit, Toz- Denbrough."
Richie smiles at the slipup, then shrugs. "Maybe. I can talk to Henry about it."
"Yeah," Eddie smiles, "He knows a lot about it, he could answer anything."
"But," Richie starts out, "That doesn't mean I'll be friends with him. None of the other losers, either. Just because he's a victim doesn't mean he's absolved of everything else he's every committed."
"Totally understandable," Eddie nods, "In fact, I think he'd kinda hate it if you gave him special treatment because of what happened."
Richie shrugs. "He's Bowers. He's always going to be an asshat. I don't have any problems with him, but I just... I want my family. That's all I want."
"We're getting there," Eddie promises him, brushing some hair behind Richie's ear. "Slowly. I'm trying really hard for you, you know."
"I know," Richie nods, "Thank you. I didn't know Bev would come over this morning."
He smiles slyly, "She'll always be like a sister to me. A fucked up, crazy, weird, murdering sister, but... we all have our flaws."
"I don't think that's how that works," Richie bursts into laughter, a sound that echoes through his chest and makes him feel so incredibly light. As if a flashlight is starting to flicker inside him, he's remembering how it feels to shine. "There's something in that list that isn't like the others, Eds."
From downstairs, as if on cue, Beverly's voice can be heard yelling throughout the house "Are you guys coming or what?!"
Richie stands, rushing to throw on clothes as quickly as possible. He notices that Eddie gets dressed as well, and doesn't hesitate to pick through Richie's closet at all. That's what friends do, though. Richie supposes that if they're getting stripped down to their underwear with one another, sharing closets isn't exactly that far out of the picture anyways.
"We'll continue this later, yeah?" Eddie promises, opening the bedroom door as Richie slips his arms through his coat sleeves.
The two stumble down the hallway to the staircase, where Richie pauses at the top and says "Okay. You're staying over again, right?"
Eddie looks up with a confident grin, one that makes Richie weak in the knees. He says, "If you're a good boy, we'll see."
Richie clambers down the stairs after him, so drunk with infatuation that he doesn't even process which stairs creak or which ones to avoid. He doesn't second guess how heavily he steps, or fear the consequences of walking too loud. He just runs down the steps because he knows he can be a good boy, he's practically already won.
Bill is standing by the door, to which Eddie rushes over to start putting on the coat he dropped by the front door yesterday night. Him and Bill talk easily, so Richie goes to join their conversation.
"Hold on there," Bev grabs him by the elbow, then quickly lets go when she remembers how skittish her former Trashmouth is.
When Richie looks back at the redhead, he watches her untie the bandana that was holding her bangs back. She reaches up slowly, palms facing up to show him she's not a threat, and then begins to tie the piece of cloth around his neck.
"You're covered in hickeys, man," she grins, "Kaspbrak's got a mouth on him, yeah?"
Richie turns bright red, instantly flushing as his mind circles frantically around the memory of Eddie leaning down to kiss his neck. He feels those spots tingle under pressure, the thought never even occurring to him at all. Richie tends to avoid mirrors, he wouldn't have noticed had Bev not pointed it out.
"I-" Richie starts to say, his face burning and completely clammy all at the same time. How is he supposed to explain this?
"Don't sweat it, dude," Bev smiles as she adjusts the knot in the bandana, smoothing it out over his chest. "Nothing to be ashamed of, I'm just covering your ass like the good ol' days."
"Th-Thanks," Richie mumbles, touching his fingers to the tight cloth around his neck. He knows that Stan would give him That Look if he were to come over covered in hickeys, and he's not exactly ready for that conversation with everyone yet. Hell, he and Eddie don't even know what the conversation would be about, they have yet to figure out what this relationship is going to actually become.
"We called Ben," Bev says a bit more openly now, looking over to where Eddie and Bill are. "He said he's got practice all day. I think he was lying, but I'm sure it's a bit disorienting for your ex to call at, like, nine in the morning."
"Some other time," Bill nudges Eddie with his elbow. "I know you just ate, kiddo, but would you be terribly burdened if we all went out for breakfast?"
"That's fine," Eddie laughs, pulling the door open. "I'll get a milkshake or something."
Richie and Beverly follow them out the door, Richie quietly speaking up "A bit early to have that much sugar."
Eddie pouts, "What, are you my dad?"
"That's-" Richie blushes. "No! Don't say that."
Eddie giggles, then reaches over and entwines his fingers with Richie's. The taller one flusters, looking down and their hands, then around the neighborhood to see if anybody is going to see them. It's just early enough that kids aren't out playing in the snow, but late enough for the morning work traffic to be over. Eddie's brave, and Richie could use some of that bravery. Richie notices that Bev and Bill don't hold hands, Beverly just links their arms together and holds onto Bill's bicep.
The four of them share a booth at a diner with no name, Eddie following through on his promise of a milkshake. Richie, however, happily eats a full meal with the words of his lover floating through his mind. If he's going to be showing more of his body to Eddie, he wants to look better. He wants to look healthy.
Richie doesn't protest the mall the second time it's suggested, and there's not that many people there. Even if there were, it wouldn't matter. Richie fixates on Eddie, who drags him into stores and tries on every pair of sunglasses and asks what Richie thinks of each one.
Every time, Richie says "You look like a superstar, Eds!"
Richie and Bill take a break in the foodcourt, to which Beverly says "Eddie, you want to help me pick out underwear?"
Eddie frowns. "Why me?"
"You're the only one here not attracted to girls, come on," she moves her head towards a lingerie store, which causes the smallest boy to blush furiously but nod anyways.
"Looks like you're getting lucky tonight," Richie laughs, "How'd she know that about Ed?"
"Because you got lucky last night," Bill points out, sipping on the smoothie he bought.
"I- I did not!" Richie scoffs, touching the bandana tied around his neck. Bill just raises his eyebrows a bit, smirking with satisfaction.
"You want us out of the house tonight, big guy?" Bill asks.
"No, that's fine man. Why would I want you out?"
"Because Eddie has been checking you out all day," Bill says casually. "You know, Rich, he's got, like, two years of you not being around to make up for. He's a late bloomer, he's just now going through puberty."
"What does that have anything to do with it?" Richie scoffs, eyeing the store that Eddie and Beverly went into so that he can keep an eye out for their other halves.
"Dude," Bill stops. "D-D-Don't make me spell it out for you."
When Richie gives him an innocent look, Bill just rolls his eyes.
"Everyone's horny during puberty, man."
Richie feels his face burn, so he reaches over and takes Bill's smoothie without asking. As he slurps down enough ice to give him a lethal amount of brain freeze, Bill bursts into laughter that causes him to double over.
"That's not fuckin' funny, Bill!" Richie leans over and punches his brother's shoulder. "Not everyone's as obsessed with sex as you and Beaverly!"
"We're 18, Rich," Bill says between wheezes, "Yes, everyone is."
Richie plays it off as casually as he can, scoffing and shaking his head. He thinks about when he first met Bill, not at the service their middle school held for Georgie Denbrough, but rather outside the haystack's basement on a bitter October night. Bill came out and argued with Richie about superheroes, ignoring the smell of cigarettes around them. Richie gave him one of his jackets that night, a kind and selfless act. Richie was so willing to give the Loser's everything he had from the moment he met them, and now it feels good to see Richie easing back into the life that Bill fought so hard to make sure Richie had. He's not sure what happened in that orphanage, but Richie's so far behind on the learning curve for kids their age that Bill is just trying to help catch Richie back up to speed. It just so happens that at their current age, there's really only one thing on their mind.
The two talk until Beverly and Eddie come out of the store, Eddie's cheeks still just as reddened as they were when he was first dragged in. Richie smiles as the two walk up, but that smile quickly falters when he glances down and sees that there's a bag dangling from the boy's wrist.
Richie's eyes move from the bag Eddie's holding over to the one that Bev's holding, meaning they made two separate purchases. Then, his gaze lifts upwards to examine their faces, noting the way that Eddie looks around with a shifty expression. Guilty, almost.
Bill seems to pick up as well, because he leans over and pats Richie on the back in a congratulatory way. "I'll be at Bev's again tonight, it looks like."
"What?" Richie says, panicked. "Wait, no-"
"Yeah!" Beverly smiles, leaning down to kiss her boyfriend. "I'm gonna make you fold all my laundry!"
"Oh, you evil woman," Bill smiles up from where he's sitting, his hands on her waist as she stands in front of him.
Eddie however shifts on his feet with a safe distance between him and Richie, his nervous eyes trained and fixated to the floor.
"Hey," Richie says softly, sticking the tip of his boot out to bump into Eddie's shoe. "Do you want me to walk you home?"
Eddie lifts his eyes up in alarm, resembling that startled deer he looks so pretty as. He shakes his head, biting his bottom lip a bit harshly. "No?"
Richie nods again, trying to force out a calm smile, but Beverly is standing beside Eddie and doing obscene gestures with her hand and her tongue pressed into the side of her cheek. Richie shakes his head, looks away, and tries to push it all out of his mind.
Later in the afternoon, after they've all burned off energy and wasted as much time as possible, Richie shuts the front door behind him and his love.
Eddie kicks his shoes off, setting his shopping bags down on the floor. He breathes a little shakily, digging around in his coat pocket to find the aspirator that he rarely needs anymore.
"Sorry we had to walk," Richie says.
1
"Not your fault," Eddie smiles, shrugging his coat off. Richie pauses by the door, his eyes fixated on all of Eddie's bags.
"So..." Richie says quietly. He thinks about Bill's speech about lateblooming and puberty, all those hormones that Richie had to go through. He didn't start having these thoughts until Eddie came along and kissed his thighs, now it's really the only thing on his mind. "What's in the bag?"
Eddie doesn't even ask what Richie is talking about, it's practically an elephant standing in the center of the room. He just says quietly, "I don't know. It's nice to feel pretty."
Richie nods calmly, sitting down on the couch in the living room. He asks Eddie, "Can I see it?"
"Oh," Eddie remarks. He takes a breath in, deep and full, then nods apprehensively. "Yeah. Okay."
Eddie brings the bag over to the side of the couch, sitting down next to Richie and folding his legs up on the cushion they're sharing. Richie tries to bother himself by turning the television on, a rerun of Dirty Dancing showing in technicolor.
"Bev said the red suited me," Eddie waves his hands to gesture at his nails, "So she helped pick it out."
"Okay," Richie nods, nervously fidgeting with the remote. He feels nervous, but he's not sure what for. Bill just managed to fill his head with all these crazy thoughts, and the grinding friction happening on the television certainly isn't helping.
Eddie reveals his purchase, pulling out a sheer nightgown from the bag. Lace trim floats along the bottom edge, a bit of faux red fur lining where the breasts would go. Richie inhales hard, so hard that his ribs shake, and he clumsily covers his mouth with his hand. Eddie isn't done however, he pulls out a very, very tiny bra that matches the nightie in its red hue, but a bit more opaque than the near transparent gown.
Richie watches Eddie set it down on his lap, his painted nails smoothing the fabric out with caution, and then the brown eyed beauty looks up at him curiously.
"Is it weird?" Eddie asks. Insecure.
"What? No!" Richie splutters, shaking his head. He feels something swelling in his throat, something so compulsive that he can't even control it. His mind works too fast for him to even process what he's doing, and before he knows it, a rusty old Voice is spilling out nonsense words. "Would'ya looka there! Why I reckon that there's a fine gown! I oughta get one of thems fer me old lady!"
Then, with the accent hanging onto each word, Richie's hands quickly cover his face. Eddie giggles a little, leaning over Richie's humiliated body to tug on his arms.
"Hey! I haven't heard a Voice in forever! I didn't think you had it in you anymore!" Eddie laughs so brightly, completely unaffected by what's going on or the object in his lap.
"Y-Yeah," Richie lowers his arms, taking deep breaths. It's just Eddie. Stop freaking out, you complete weirdo. "I guess I just got nervous. What do you need a nightgown for?"
"I don't know, it's just... it's cute, you know?" Eddie smiles down at the fabric, "I like being pretty. Like Freddie Mercury or Bowie."
"You don't need some lingerie to be pretty, baby," Richie says surely, but before Eddie can react, he's boldly asking "Can I see it... on?"
Eddie's face flushes completely, a shade that matches the color red he's growing to love. He nods, then shakes his head, then nods again. "Um- I-"
"Later," Richie then says to cover his own ass. "If we figure this all out, then later."
"Wow, that's-" Eddie cuts himself off. "For your birthday?"
Richie nods with a smile, though his whole body is tingling with nerves and excitement. What does that mean? How far will they go?
"That's in March," Eddie then says, frowning. "So far away."
"A little over a month, February is pretty short," Richie shrugs, "Not that far away."
"Or," Eddie starts out, "Valentine's Day is closer. I've never gotten to celebrate that day with someone."
"Me neither," Richie responds, then asks "Are we- Is that what we're doing, then? Are we, um, going to be each other's Valentine?"
"I thought we were going slow until you were in therapy?" Eddie asks.
"We keep saying we'll just be friends, and then I end up with hickeys," Richie laughs. "We need to stop this, man."
"I know, it's like I just can't help myself around you, I don't know," Eddie shakes his head, placing the items back in his bag. "Probably sounds stupid."
"Not at all," Richie says. "I think it was smoother when we were younger just because we didn't... we didn't do things like that," Richie points towards the bag, but then says "And so now we're trying to clumsily find our way through our first times while simultaneously remember how we fit with each other. I don't know, it's a bit fun. Even if we do change our minds every six hours."
"Well," Eddie says, smiling shyly. "I guess that's true, yeah. We didn't really get intimate with each other before, so that is a bit different. But it's... it's nice. It's not just, like, mindless horniness. Like, you really care about me, and I'm glad that I'm getting to open up and experience all this weird... intimate shit with you."
"Aw, Eds, did you save your virginity just for me?" Richie asks, leaning over to press his lips to Eddie's neck, tickling the smaller boy as their bodies topple over onto to the rest of the couch.
"As if!" Eddie laughs, trying to retract his neck into his shoulders as his body thrashes around in protest. "I was just too pissed off to hook up with anybody else while you were gone."
"Hey man," Richie says, pulling away from the boy to stare down at him. "Don't get rid of all that anger, now. I read in dirty magazines when I was younger that hate se-"
"Oh my god, shut up," Eddie stops him right there, "I seriously don't even want to hear the rest of that sentence. You're disgusting, bub. This isn't even Trashmouth, this is, like, Dumpstermouth."
"Ah, you love it!" Richie giggles, leaning down to press his lips to Eddie's.
Eddie startles a bit and pushes on Richie's chest, blinking his heavenly eyes so quickly. Richie doesn't start a monologue of bad innerthoughts, he just looks down at Eddie and waits to see what the one beneath him has to say.
"What is it?" Richie asks, lifting his arm up from where he's supporting his body above Eddie's, pushing his glasses up on top of his head.
Eddie smiles at the bare face, Richie's glowing eyes and all those pretty lashes that flutter with each blink. Eddie missed those freckles, but winter has left them snowed in beneath the surface of Richie's skin. Only when summer thaws the icy cheekbones will Eddie be able to see those familiar spotted constellations embedded across the bridge of Richie's nose. He's beautiful. He always has been.
"Nothing," Eddie smiles, "It's just the third time we've kissed on the mouth."
Richie thinks for a moment, but then nods in agreement. He can't keep track of all their kisses, but he remembers the night Eddie broke his arm, and he remembers kissing in a sports field with Eddie's legs wrapped around his waist. This must be their third, and they always say that third time's a charm.
"Well get used to it," Richie remarks, his hand settling on the outside of Eddie's hip.
"And why's that?" Eddie responds challengingly.
"Because apparently I love you or something," Richie shrugs, rolling his eyes so playfully. He feels so normal, like he's just a teenager who wasn't traumatized from a young age. He doesn't feel orphaned, he doesn't feel damaged, he doesn't even feel weird that he's kissing a boy. He feels like he's in love, and that's all that he needs to keep a smile plastered onto his usually so forlorn features.
Eddie shakes his head, his own grin quadrupling in size. He rests his hand against the back of Richie's neck, pulling the boy back down for yet another kiss.
It's clumsy, it's unorganized, it's all over the place, and none of it really makes sense, but it's their relationship. They get to have one. They spent two years under the assumption they wouldn't get to ever do this, so they don't care how incoherent their wants and needs are. It doesn't matter. They're with each other, and that's what counts.
With his lips still trapped against Richie's, Eddie mumbles out a very, very muffled "I've always loved you."
***
a/n: bit of a filler chapter im sorry if it doesn't make sense 🗿 as some of you may have seen, im going through a bit of a rough patch with tragedy and depression in my life, so i don't have the time to write and perfect everything the way i want it to be. i only want the best for this story and for you guys to read, so im sorry if there are a few weeks where i miss a chapter or it comes a bit late. im trying my best, i promise. i appreciate the undying devotion and loyalty you all show me anyways.
also! changed my username, so hope that wasn't confusing for anyone. the tragicthrills era has come to an end.
so much love,
tyler.