Sunshine-
Richie Tozier Makes a Discovery!
[0.11]
[ TRIGGER WARNING ; homophobia (outer & internalized), homophobic slurs ]
Fighting. F-I-G-H-T-I-N-G. One word, two syllables. Google defines it as, "displaying or engaging in violence, combat, or aggression."
Gay. G-A-Y. One word, one syllable. Wentworth Tozier's worst nightmare. Google defines it as, "(of a person) homosexual (used especially of a man)."
Maggie and Wentworth Tozier were fighting (having an argument is better wording, richie). About Richie Tozier. If he was gay. If he was in love with his best friend. If he should still be allowed to live in the household. (it's supposed to be home, richie.)
(but it's not a home because i don't feel love, richie.)
Richie Tozier sat in his room, eavesdropping on the conversation until he felt physically sick. His father's words played again and again in his head. My son cannot be gay, Maggie! But he is, and he's a fucking disgrace! He likes cock! I bet you he's already sucked that little friend of his' p—
Richie couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed his earbuds, turning the volume all the way up. Still he could hear his thoughts. Don't touch other boys, Richie. You don't want them to know you're little secret. Don't stare for too long. Don't hold his hand. Don't think about his lips. Frustrated, Richie yanked his earbuds out and threw them on his bed from where he had moved to sit, on his bay window. A silent sob escaped his lips, sending a shiver down his back. He held his legs close, cursing at himself and reminding him that he liked girls. He did, right?
He wanted to believe that was true, but the posters on his walls made him think otherwise. Tom Holland dressed as Spiderman stared at him, seemingly giving him a dirty look. Richie remembered how much he loved Spiderman. He thought he watched it for the action. But there's a reason MJ wasn't on this poster. He realized so suddenly and painfully his body jerked that just maybe he watched the Spiderman movies just for Tom Holland. Just maybe he wouldn't mind kissing Tom Holland on the lips, or cuddling him and hugging him. The poster on the wall taunted him, the handsome man's eyes digging into Richie's soul. Sobbing harder, he ran to the wall, ripping the poster from it's beloved spot, the edges being ripped off. He shredded it to pieces, droplets of salty water still dripping from out of his eyes. Every poster taunted him: his Wallows poster, his American Horror Story poster seemed to tease and poke at him, for crying out loud! He went around the room, tearing them to scraps.
He glanced over at his wall, seeing Polaroids pinned up on his wall. He smiled at them, but that soon flipped to a frown. He was thankful no one was there at the moment. He felt so shattered and broken, and couldn't imagine the hate he'd get from his friends for this. He knew if they knew about this he would never hear the end of it. Richie Tozier wasn't supposed to have mental breakdowns. Memories flooded his brain as he looked at each individual photo, the shouting from downstairs slowly fading away.
He grabbed a Polaroid of him and Bev, sitting on the hammock smoking. He remembered the times they would do that. Oh, how he had missed the clubhouse. It was fun down there. He remembered Eddie yapping at them about lung cancer and five thousand other things all at once (wow that kid could talk). Richie glanced over the other Polaroids, seeing pictures of him with each loser, but he noticed that he particularly had a lot with Eddie. He took one off of the wall, setting the pushpin that held it up on the desk that sat nearby. In the small frame was a photo of Eddie and Richie laying on the hammock, the smaller boy's foot in his face and him just laughing, so used to his stinky toes being pushed into his face. He saw another Polaroid with his best friend and grabbed it as well. His eyes skimmed over the picture of them sleeping on one another with a bowl of popcorn on their laps. He laughs, regretting ever giving Beverly the rights to use his Polaroid camera. That was their friendship, Richie and Eddie's. It was pure. And maybe there was a little oblivious pining every once in a while (all the time), but that was their relationship.
He put the Polaroids into his pockets, feeling that same burning sensation in his eyes that warned him more hot, disgusting tears were coming soon. He sighed, sitting on his floor. He grabs a cigarette, but he doesn't light it. He just likes the feel of it in his hands at this moment. And just like that, he lets out another silent sob.
It was unclear to the boy how long he had stayed in that position, but when he finally raised his head to a familiar voice the sun had nearly set and his cheeks were bright red with tear streaks. His blue eyes were big and bright, exposing just how frail he was in the moment. "Rich?" the voice asked.
"Hey, Eds," Richie smiled through still-streaming tears. "What's up?"
Eddie frowned. "We had made plans for today, and I started getting worried when you didn't show up because I know you always show up to our plans and I was scared something happened to you and I unfortunately wasn't wrong, so, what happened, Richie?" He looked at Richie poignantly, wishing he had gotten there sooner.
Richie began to rock back and forth, mumbling, "I want to go to the clubhouse, Spaghetti. Not here. The clubhouse."
Shit, Eddie thought ruefully, he really is broken. "Okay," he nodded, "we can go to the clubhouse. Come on, let's clean up that pretty face of yours, first."
The comment almost made the taller boy start crying again, but something about Eddie calling him pretty made him happy. He had to restrain himself from taunting himself for liking a boy calling him pretty. He nodded, following him to the bathroom. Eddie grabbed a washcloth (he had been here so often he practically lived here and knew where everything was located) and soaked it, gently wiping the boys face. "I can't believe you didn't call me. I would've been over in a heartbeat, Mr. Tozier, and you know that!"
Richie sighed. Of course he knew that. "I'm sorry, Dr. K. I know that, but you would've been sensible and stopped me from wrecking my room."
Eddie stopped wiping down Richie's face. "You wrecked your room?"
"Yeah?" Richie said, surprised. "I'm shocked you didn't see it. The only remaining thing on my walls are my Polaroids."
"I was more focused on you," Eddie mumbled as he walked into the boy's room. He was right: it was a total train wreck. There were shreds of paper everywhere. The bay window was open, letting in fresh air. His bed was unmade, and Richie always made his bed to make his mom happy. There was a slight dent in the wall that Eddie had never noticed before.
"It's bad, isn't it?"
"Not entirely," the smaller boy smiled, turning to face the boy with a mop of raven curls for hair. He walked over to the section of pictures pinned to the wall, noticing immediately that two of them were missing: two of their Polaroids. "Rich?" he asked, turning around.
Richie smiled and pulled them out of his pocket for just a second, putting them back. "Shall we go to the clubhouse?"
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾
Acceptance. A-C-C-E-P-T-A-N-C-E. One word, three syllables. What a beautiful thing it is. Google defines it as, "the action of consenting to receive or undertake something offered." Richie Tozier defines it as, "that feeling of when you finally come to terms with something and learn to love it... eventually."
Love. L-O-V-E. One word, one syllable. One of the most powerful feelings in the world. Google defines it as, "an intense feeling of deep affection." Richie's definition: home.
"So what happened?"
Richie sighed. "I apologize in advance. I walked downstairs today at around one and my parents were glaring at each other. Mom asked if they could have a moment to talk, so I nodded and went upstairs. I was chilling in my room when their voices began getting louder. Then I heard my dad yell, 'My son cannot be gay, Maggie! But he is, and he's a fucking disgrace!' and some shit about liking cock and something else. He dragged you into it and for that I want to fucking murder him.
"After that I had the break-down because those words kept repeating in my head and I couldn't get the idea out of my head. Then I destroyed my room."
"Richie," Eddie asked cautiously, reaching for his hand, "are you gay?" Richie sat in silence, a tear slipping from his left eye. "Oh, Rich, come here."
He accepted Eddie's hug, loving the feeling of having a shoulder to cry on. "I'm so scared, Eds. Please don't hate me."
Eddie laughed. "Rich, why would I hate you for being gay?"
"I dunno, but you might," Richie chuckled.
"Do you want to know a secret?" Eddie asked, apprehensive.
"Sure," the taller boy smiled.
That smile gave Eddie all the confidence he could ever need. "I'm gay, too."
"Really? That's amazing, Eds! Wait, don't tell me you had a mental breakdown after realizing it, too, because that would be—" Richie rambled on.
Eddie interrupted him, smiling. "I didn't have a mental breakdown, because I've kind of always known. It's just been a secret."
"Eddie Kaspbrak, you are the strongest boy I know. You know that?" Richie asked, smiling.
"I could say the same about you, Mr. Richie Tozier," Eddie winked. The two glanced at the hammock, and wordlessly crawled towards it. Instead of their old ways of Eddie's feet in Richie's face, the two snuggled up against each other, feeling calmer. Eddie felt a weight finally be lifted from his chest. Richie felt love. "So, have you had any crushes on any boys that you were unaware of but now realize completely exist?"
Richie laughs. "Yep. Two, actually."
"Really?!" Eddie exclaims in disbelief.
"Yes really!" Richie defended. "Tom Holland and... a friend."
Eddie smiled, though his smile seemed to have lost it's enthusiasm. "Tom Holland can really turn you gay, man. I'm sure the other boy is very lucky. I wish you luck with him or Tom, Rich."
"Thanks, Spaghetti Man! What about you? Do you have any M.C.E.s?" he asked nosily.
"M.C.E.?"
"Man crush everyday? Catch up Eddie!"
"My bad!" Eddie chuckled. "Yeah, but, they're just a friend, unfortunately."
"I'm sorry, Eds," Richie frowned. "I'm sure he's missing out."
Eddie only nodded. He nodded because he didn't know how to say it's you, you idiot! without actually saying it. He didn't know the best way to confess he's been in love with his best friend since they were little, so he allowed his head to bob along with Richie's statement. "Do you want to stay at my place tonight? My mum's out of town, so I don't see why she'd have a problem with it."
Richie gasped. "How unfortunate! My lover is out of town—" a tiny hand hit his arm— "I'm sorry. I'd love that. Thank you, Eddie." Eddie once again curtly nodded. The two lay there for a bit longer before they began the walk back to Eddie's household (not home. home was love— giving and receiving).
Richie wore a pair of clothes from Eddie that oddly fit him perfectly. That night the two of them slept in Eddie's bed, snuggled up against each other. At one point, Richie randomly grabbed Eddie's chin, kissing him lightly. Of course Eddie kissed back, but he was confused as to why they were kissing in the first place. "What was that for?" Eddie asked softly, smiling.
Richie smiled back. "Oh yeah, I'm definitely gay."
A/N-
When Eddie smiles and says, "I've kind of always known," I imagine his lil' smile to be like this and it's so gosh darn cute! Art credit to the the lovely @/scribbleworms on Instagram!
Anyhow, thank you for reading! I'm sorry if this chapter was sensitive! I hope you're all doing well! Remember that you matter, no matter what. 💙 Also, I am still working on the requests! I apologize for the wait!
- xx,
A 🦋💗