♥
Eddie didn't like to be around when Richie and Bev were drinking, but he somehow got looped into one of their parties. It was a Friday night, and Eddie's mother was going to be out of the house for a schedules talk with Dr. Keene about his 'progress', so as far as Richie was concerned, all Eddie had to do was figure out a way to escape his locked house. The brunette was immensely bothered by this plan. At first, he outright refused— there was no way he was crossing his mother like that, not when he was already considering a relationship that was so far outside the guidelines she had set. But Richie was persistent.
Eddie had to admit, the boy was being extremely patient. He acted as though nothing had changed, which felt safe. Eddie didn't have to make a move until he felt comfortable. But he knew Richie wouldn't wait forever, despite what he said the night Eddie had been found on the side of the road. So when he was laying in his dimly lit room with his homework spread all over his bed and heard a tapping noise on his window, he dropped everything.
It was absolutely insane, what he was doing as he opened the window and looked down at Richie. But he started to climb out, reaching for the tree that was just a few feet away. His foot hit a solid branch, but he couldn't find anything to grab on to and his hands were slipping. So he gave himself a hopeless boost and curled his knee over the branch, hanging from it like a monkey. Terror gripped at his heart as he scrambled for a good grip, but he was falling already anyway. All of the breath left his body as he hit a solid but soft surface, squashing it beneath him.
"Sorry," he squeaked, rolling off of Richie and getting to his feet a bit unsteadily. He helped his friend up, smiling a bit shyly as he brushed off the boy's shirt.
"You kidding? Don't be sorry. It's not every day that angels fall from the sky, but I was lucky enough to have one land right in my lap." That was another thing about Richie lately; he had become quite the flirtatious individual. The nicknames were certainly coming back almost effortlessly, and the trashmouth Richie had in Eddie's dream was beginning to leak into reality again as well. Eddie didn't mind very much, to say the least, as he stood frozen with a furious blush taking over his features.
"Shut up," he muttered, punching Richie's shoulder playfully. Bev's house was a short drive away, and Richie got them there in just under two minutes. It was a small party, which made Eddie feel a bit better, but the presence of alcohol was enough to heighten his anxiety.
"There's only enough for everyone to have a little bit," Richie was assuring him as they made their way into the living room. "That's all there is, too. No smoking allowed in the house, or Bev's dad will flip his shit when he smells it. We found that out the hard way." It was meant to be a joke, judging by the good humored glimmer in his eyes, but Eddie still felt a lingering sense of unease.
They entered the living room to find a small group of people passing around a bottle and laughing amongst themselves. Eddie's eyes immediately zoomed in on Stanley, who seemed very out of his element over on his side of the circle beside Bill. He allowed his gaze to travel around the group as he felt a tug on his arm and suddenly he was being plopped down right next to Bev herself. Richie settled on his other side, and Eddie turned silently to look at what was going on in the middle of the circle.
The rather large bottle of what Eddie presumed was an alcoholic beverage sat in the middle now, and everyone was holding a cup. One was passed to him, and he clutched it rather tightly, confusion flooding through him. He glanced at Richie, brow furrowed, but the boy was too busy conversing with a guy Eddie recognized from his history class. He couldn't remember his name, but he sat in the back like one of the stereotypical sketchy kids in the movies, which was how all adults seemed to see teenagers nowadays.
"Okay, here's the deal!" Bev piped up, and judging by the way her cheeks were flushed, she had definitely already had a little bit to drink. Yet, the bottle in the middle looked nearly full. Eddie was beginning to doubt Richie's promise of the amount of alcohol present, especially as another small group of kids paraded in with two more bottles. The group was steadily growing, and what Eddie had believed to be about ten people was clearly more like twenty and still growing.
"Truth or dare, but if you pass, then you have to chug a cup of whatever's in the middle." There were a few cheers, but Eddie could feel the blood draining from his face. Someone sat down between him and Beverly, and he studied the girl, eyes narrowing when her familiar gaze settled on him just as cooly. Greta stared back at him with an indifferent expression, her eyes daring him to say something.
"I'm here for the booze," she said before he could ask, and he just shrugged. He didn't care what she did with her life. The game had already started in the background, and there were already couples making out, including Bill and Stan. Eddie frowned, discomfort sleeping into his chest even stronger than it had been before.
"My turn!" Bev shouted once everyone had gone quiet. Her gaze raked the party guests, pausing on every single one of them until they settled on Eddie, and his heart skipped a beat. She smiled sweetly, glancing at Greta and chuckling a little bit. Eddie recalled briefly that on one of their visits, Bill had mentioned getting a Snapchat sticker of 'the bitchy nurse who Eddie hated with a burning passion', then proceeding to tell her the whole story of what they had witnessed when Eddie smacked her.
"Eddie. I dare you to kiss the person on your left." She was either drunk, or evil. Eddie decided that she was both, scowling deeply as he fixed Bev with a glare so harsh that the rest of the players seemed to shrink back. Greta, on the other hand, was enjoying this a little too much. She seemed to think the situation was hilarious.
"What are you gonna do, Kaspbrak?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. Eddie glanced at her lips, just as red and lipstick-covered as they always were. Perhaps it wouldn't be the end of the world. After all, he could just give her a peck and it would be over with. He risked a glance at Richie, and was frozen in place by the intensity of the boy's gaze. Richie was staring at him with huge eyes and red cheeks. Eddie realized that he almost looked like he had been anticipating this, like it was something he had been waiting to see. But perhaps it was the alcohol already flowing through Richie's system. Eddie took a deep breath and put down his empty cup, leaning towards Greta with a disgusted expression.
"This is only because I hate alcohol more than I hate you, I hope you know that," he grumbled grouchily. She rolled her eyes and grasped the back of his neck, pulling him closer and connecting their lips roughly. What had been expected to be a simple peck became a searing kiss that lasted a lot longer than Eddie had planned, and his eyes went wide when cheers broke out from the group around him. Her mouth moved against his, and he forced himself to reciprocate, though inwardly he felt like throwing up. Something felt unbelievably wrong about the situation, and he hated every second of it. Somehow, her lips felt almost too soft, and she was almost too gentle, despite the passion behind the exchange.
She finally let go of him and he pulled away sharply, gasping for breath and wiping at his mouth furiously. His hands came away red with the lipstick that had been smeared onto his lips. He felt like crying, but he swallowed back the lump in his throat, avoiding looking at anyone even as people leaned forward and clapped him on the shoulder or ruffled his hair. He poured himself a small and responsibly sized cup of the drink in the middle even though he had completed the dare, tipping his head back and drinking it quickly. Then he got up and excused himself, closing the bathroom door behind him and locking it.
He looked in the mirror, surprised by how pale he appeared to be. The nauseous feeling in his stomach grew every second he spent thinking about the kiss, and it only got worse when he realized that didn't only wish that it had been someone else, but he wished that it had been a boy. He gagged, and leaned over the toilet, dry-heaving. Nothing came up. Instinctive tears tumbled down his cheeks as his eyes watered profusely, and he wiped them away, hiding his face in his hands. There was a soft knock on the door.
"Go away! Find another bathroom to make out in," he called shakily. There was a moment of silence in which he stared at the door. Voices were still shrieking and laughing in the background. Eddie wiped his mouth again, trying to rid himself of the cherry taste he got every time he licked his lips, and he almost gagged again, but held it back.
"It's Richie..." The boy's voice was soft, gentle, welcoming. Eddie scrambled to unlock the door, throwing it opened and staring up at his friend, who held a concerned expression and a restless shift of his weight from one foot to the other.
"I'm okay. You can go have fun," Eddie said firmly, trying to close the door again, but Richie caught it and pushed it opened. Eddie stepped back, and Richie entered the bathroom, leaving the door opened. Eddie sat down back in the corner across from the toilet again, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a few deep, shuddering breaths. Richie sat down beside him and held out a cup.
"I brought you some water," the boy mumbled. Eddie took it and managed to get a few small sips down, thanking him softly. Richie hesitated, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Um... I'm sorry for bringing you here. I know you're not having fun." He really did sound sorry. In fact, he sounded heartbroken. Eddie frowned, shaking his head.
"Don't apologize, Rich. I agreed to come with you, didn't I?" There was a reluctant nod, and Eddie sighed. "There was no way this night would have been a happy one for me. If I stayed home I'd be stuck with leftover takeout and piles of missing schoolwork, and if I went with you then something like this was bound to happen. At least this way I get to spend some time with you." He flushed, casting a shy glance at his friend. "That was the dealbreaker, you know."
There was a moment where Richie seemed to struggle with his tipsy self, cheeks becoming a deep red color as he blurted out, "You don't like that girl now, do you?" Eddie's mouth fell opened in shock, and he was dubbed speechless. Richie twisted his fingers together nervously. "Because, you know, she's a girl, and I guess she seemed like a good kisser, and I don't know, Stan said that you guys had some sort of chemistry at the hospital, whatever that means, and I just don't want to get my hopes up if I don't at least have a fighting chance—" Eddie cut him off before he could fall too far into his panicked rant, turning towards him and pressing a finger to his friend's lips.
"Her name's Greta," Eddie told him with a small smile. "Stan forgot to mention that she was a little bitch, and I slapped her before he and Bill left. Sure, I guess she was a good kisser, but it's not like I have much to compare her to. She was too soft." He wrinkled his nose, heart panting as he struggled to admit what terrified him. "And..." He began, averting his eyes and letting his hand fall from Richie's mouth. "I think part of why I didn't like it was because she was a girl, which is really scary. But I don't know how kissing a boy could be any differe—"
Eddie was cut off by a gentle, yet firm press of lips against his own. His eyes went unbelievably wide at the chapped and rough feeling of a boy's mouth moving against his, so similar and yet so different to the feeling that Greta had given him. Richie's glasses smushed against his face a bit awkwardly, but he could hardly feel anything other than the persistent push of Richie's lips on his own, and it took him a few seconds to realize that he had done nothing to reciprocate the gesture.
He moved his own lips hesitantly, and the moment he did there was a soft noise from Richie that he swallowed instantly. His cheeks felt like they were on fire as he began to press back a bit more firmly, settling into the unfamiliar feeling with fading feelings of uncertainty and fear. His eyes remained wide opened, unwilling to miss a second of the exchange, though Richie's seemed sealed shut. Eddie tilted his head a little bit, allowing himself to slot their lips together more fully, therefore deepening the kiss. It was soft, gentle, searching. When something wet and smooth touched his lower lip, he pulled away with a sharp gasp, finally closing his eyes.
"Not yet." It came out in a rugged whisper, but Richie nodded obediently, which sent a surge of appreciation through Eddie's chest. He connected their lips again briefly, this time much quicker than the last. "Not yet, but maybe soon." Their breaths mixed as Eddie pressed their foreheads together, tracing his cheekbones and jawline, counting his freckles, studying his features carefully.
"I want to remember this," he breathed, and Richie's cheeks heated up beneath his featherlight touch. "I want to remember what it felt like the first time your lips touched mine." As he spoke, he brushed his fingers against his face, running them through his curls, brushing their cheeks together softly. Richie seemed nearly breathless, and Eddie felt similarly, all nausea gone from his mind, his sole focus on Richie.
"I want to remember what it felt like when you made me yours."