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The available data was this:
Richie had a history of hiring escorts. Male escorts. Like, for sex. For gay sex, with men. This confirmed at least one of Eddie’s hopes, even as rage filled him at the way Richie’s manager and supposed friend had let that slip in front of a stranger.
Richie deserved better. Eddie was going to tear Steve to fucking shreds if their paths ever crossed again.
Apparently, the escorts Richie hired all had some traits in common with Eddie. A lot of traits. A suspicious amount of very specific traits.
The list-style description that Steve had rattled off was seared into his brain. It played in his head now, when he looked in the mirror across from the bed.
Short, brown hair, big brown eyes, polo shirt, small build. Bitchy face.
The inevitable conclusion was that Richie wanted to have sex with guys that resembled Eddie, but not Eddie, himself. This could be for any number of reasons, not the least of which was Eddie’s horrible, abrasive personality. Or multiple disfiguring scars.
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Bookmarked by chainsawdog
16 Feb 2026
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Eddie suppresses an urge to get back in the car and just go. Anywhere. He’s had a lot of little moments over these past few days where he thinks the last twenty years of his life were a total waste, but this one…
“Eds?” Richie says, waiting at the rear end of the car with a tilted head. His eyes are curious and a little concerned, but focused only on Eddie, like in the cistern, standing over then hole into hell; like arm wrestling in the Jade; like standing over the hammock in the clubhouse, and that’s… The look. “Hey, are you – what’s wrong?”
Eddie lurches forward under a heady impulse, sliding his arms tight around Richie’s torso with a squeeze. He hasn’t gotten to do this at all. He’s just watched other people do it – at the Jade, at the quarry – and not understood his own bitter envy.
Bookmarked by chainsawdog
16 Feb 2026
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Richie takes the phone, awkwardly maneuvering the cord over the bar-top. He picks up his glass in an effort to rescue the last remaining dregs of whiskey. “Hello?” Richie says into the handset.
“Richie Tozier?”
“Richie Tozier’s the name, bangin’ soccer mommies’ the game,” Richie replies.
“It’s Stan."
New York City, 2002: Richie and Eddie, who are each on their way to becoming very successful in their field, and who have no memory of each other or their childhood together, get phone calls from a very old friend. This spurs on the adventure— or nightmare— of a lifetime.
Series
- Part 1 of As Above, So Below
Bookmarked by chainsawdog
15 Feb 2026
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A Murmur Beneath My Skin by mikripetra
Fandoms: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
16 Apr 2024
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The man barks out a laugh. A wave of familiarity washes over Eddie, so strong it makes him sway on his feet. He looks the guy up and down again, trying to place where he knows him from.
“I’m Eddie,” he offers.
The man grabs a box of cereal seemingly at random. Eddie frowns— it looks like pure sugar in a box. He puts on a voice, a passable impression of Perry Mason: “Richard W. Tozier, Esquire. At your service, Eddie Spaghetti.”
I know him, Eddie’s soul is screaming. I know him, I can’t let him go. Not again.
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Richie and Eddie run into each other in their early thirties. They don't realize it at the time, but this ends up changing everything.
Bookmarked by chainsawdog
02 Feb 2026
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“Uh,” Mike says. “So - the last time we faced IT, we hurt it. Not bad, but enough to end the cycle early, right? We hurt IT, and it lost some energy. Now, IT’s making up for what we did by coming back early.”
“Wait,” Richie says slowly. “You’re telling me that the alien hellclown came back 14 years before it was supposed to because it’s snacky?”
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Bookmarked by chainsawdog
30 Jan 2026
