Chapter Text
Richie and Bev’s shopping trip had proved less than successful, so for the third day in a row they were back gift hunting, this time lazily browsing the shelves of a thrift store Bev’s aunt had told her about. Bev had pointed out a few things that she thought Bill would have liked but they were either too expensive or just not quite right.
“No way!” Richie laughed, as Bev held up a particularly tacky shirt to her slight frame, “unless he’s planning on taking some style tips from yours truly I don’t think he’d be too thrilled”. He took the shirt from her, looking over pattern of pineapples wearing sunglasses approvingly before reluctantly returning it to the rail.
There could not be a worse combination of people for this task; their search quickly devolved into a competition of who could find the most ridiculous outfit. They split up, and agreed to meet at the makeshift fitting rooms ten minutes later.
Richie sauntered around the store, winking at the elderly lady refilling the shelves as he passed her and smiling to himself when she tutted and moved back to the counter. He perused the rails, looking for inspiration among the beige waistcoats and dull blazers. He was hoping for a garish shell suit, or even a pair of polka dot pants, but the men’s section was proving to be a lot less adventurous than the usual thrift shop fare, the closest he’d found to weird was a tattered, old, off-white clown suit with red pom poms down the front and ruffles at the neck and cuffs. ‘Borrrrrring’ Richie thought.
Then he spotted it - a wide grin spreading across his face, resisting the urge to laugh out loud at his own luck and comedic genius. He looked around to make sure Bev hadn’t spotted him and tucked it under his arm when he saw the coast was clear. He shiftily made his way back to the fitting rooms, slipping inside a vacant cubicle and closing the ugly curtain behind him.
He shrugged off his shirt and baggy jeans and awkwardly maneuvered the garment over his head, struggling to do up the zip in the small space. “Richie” he heard Bev whisper from outside, “is that you in there?” he could hear the slight giggle in her voice, and responded “Marsh you have no chance of winning this, let me know when you’re ready for the big reveal!”.
“Bring it on Tozier” she laughed as he heard her move into the cubicle next to him. After a few minutes of shuffling and giggling, both cubicles were quiet for a beat.
“You ready?” they said almost in unison, “On the count of 3” Bev offered, “1...2...3”
Richie yanked open his curtain and hopped outside his cubicle, turning to face Bev with a dramatic pose, complete with jazz hands. Bev had performed a similar reveal, but neither could hold their composure for long as they caught sight of each other.
Bev had found a pair of brightly coloured, flower patterned pants that despite their elasticated waist included straps to hook over her shoulders. She’d paired it with a blouse that clashed entirely and would look at home hanging either side of an old woman’s windows. She finished the ensemble off with a huge hat that looked like it had been worn just once to the wedding of someone the previous owner must have held in some contempt.
Bev was at a disadvantage in this competition; there wasn’t much she couldn’t turn into a fashion piece, even unwillingly. Her red hair and slim frame just seemed to go with everything. And she certainly looked more stylish than Richie in a huge, puffy sleeved eighties wedding dress.
“Where did you find that?!” she howled, clutching her stomach as she bent over in fits of giggles. Richie twirled around theatrically, showing off the generous bow embellishments that had been haphazardly attached to the skirt of the ugly dress, causing Bev to collapse into fiercer fits of laughter, struggling to catch her breath.
She composed herself from the floor and mock bowed several times, conceding victory to her friend.
“Now I just need to find myself a husband!” Richie teased in his favourite Southern Belle accent, clutching his hands to his face with a mock dreamy look on his face.
“Oh my dear,” Bev said, playing along “we’ll make finding you a suitor our number one priority”.
They laughed as they took it in turns to twirl and dip each other, out of beat with the elevator music the thrift shop was piping into the store. It was at this point the old woman had abandoned her post at the counter, looking for the unacceptable source of frivolity taking place on her watch. She rounded the corner, spying Richie first, her sour expression turning to one of frigid horror.
“How DARE you! Take that off and get out of here before I call the police!” she screamed at him, turning a deep shade of purple. Bev and Richie hurried back into their respective cubicles, hastily changing back into their original outfits whilst the woman continued to rant. They were still giggling as she herded them out of the store, cursing them as they went and banning them both for life.
“Aww I didn’t get a picture” Bev sighed, “you’ll just have to promise to wear a wedding dress when you do actually get married”
“IF I get married” Richie said, picking at his chipped black nail polish, “it’s just a piece of paper and a whole lot of hassle”
“Oh please” Bev said rolling her eyes, “you can’t fool me Trashmouth, I know there’s a lonely romantic in there somewhere” she poked at his chest.
Richie stayed uncharacteristically quiet, which prompted Bev to stop him for a moment.
“Hey, you just have to find the right person, obviously not for marriage but you can still date without ‘signing a contract’" she smiled, using air quotes, "My offer still stands if you want me to set you up with one of the girls from my design class”
“Those girls are the worst” Richie groaned, “the last party they were at one of them cornered me and spent the whole time bitching about her friends, AND they were rude to Eddie, they were laughing at his fanny pack!”
“In their defense, they’re fashion students” Bev laughed “and you give him shit about his fanny pack all time!”
“Yeah but that’s different, Losers can tease Losers and Eds knows I’m not serious, I love his fanny pack - wait, he knows I’m not serious right? ”
“Yes Richie, I’m absolutely positive Eddie knows that you are never serious, we all are” Bev smiled reassuringly.
“Ouch Red” he elbowed her, with pretend offence as they rounded the corner to her house.
“Think about it” she said as she pecked Richie’s cheek goodbye, “and think about Bill’s present! We’re not meeting until 5pm tomorrow so that’s prime shopping time”
For a blissful moment he’d forgotten about this stupid gift dillemma and now the stress of potentially letting down his friend was back.
He pulled out his phone as he slouched back home and typed out a message.
‘Eds, I need your help’