Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Summer was thickening in the town of Derry. A short yet dry heat had settled over the area earlier in the week, the scorching air punctured only by small rustling breezes. The weather was becoming less and less bearable for any sane residents of the area. Certain children however, had been less easily convinced to stay indoors. Eddie Kaspbrak, for example, had just about thrown his mother into a fit when he insisted on going out. He was eventually able to convince her that he simply had to go to the library to get a head start on his summer assignments. She had shoved what, to Eddie, felt to be a gallon sized bottle of water into her son's hands and doubtfully sent him on his way. He wondered how exactly she expected him to mount his bike with such a thing to carry.

Eventually the determined boy managed, and was on his way towards town. However, as he approached the library, he simply allowed the wheels of his bicycle to take him past it. He winced internally at the fact that he'd so outwardly lied to his mom, but kept going. He had better things to do than to sit inside all day. Or go to the library to work on summer assignments that he had simply made up, for that matter. He rode on until he reached the edge of the Barrens. He parked his bike in it's normal spot, noting that there was only one other bike to place it with.

Richie's bike, his mind provided, for no reason in particular.

Eddie made his way down the path until he reached the bank. Richie sat lazily on a fairly large rock, throwing stones into the stream. At the sound of his friend approaching, the dark haired boy sat up straighter to wave.

"Well if it ain't mah darlin' Eddie! Come awn down he-ya and give a babe some company!" Richie called out, his voice in a bad impression of some eyelash-batting southern girl. Eddie rolled his eyes and sat on the ground next to his friend, setting his water jug nearby. "Ho-ly Moly would ya look at the size of that" Richie laughed, pointing at the bottle. "That's how you got your mom to let you down here?" The question broke off into more laughter.

"Wouldn't even let me think about leaving without it. Not in this heat with my poor lungs, she said. Even then I had to tell her I was going somewhere else besides to sit in the Barrens with a bunch of hooligans like you." It was Eddie's turn to laugh and when Richie pushed him in retaliation, it almost sent him into the stream. This caused even more hysterics between the boys.

Eddie was faintly aware of how nice Richie looked when he was going on like that. His eyes shining bright behind their frames, his cheeks a bit pink, his hair moving wildly as his head shook. Eddie liked seeing his friends just looking genuinely happy. All of them, not just Richie.

But especially Richie, his mind whispered again. But as Richie told another joke, the thought was pushed away as he went into a fit of giggles. Nothing strange going on in his head, just two kids having fun on a hot summer day in a place they had made their home.

It wasn't until Eddie's asthma kicked in that the two settled down enough to speak without cracking up. "Aaaand here we are folks, with the world renowned Eddie Spaghetti, blasting off in three... two... one..." Richie erupted with applause when Eddie triggered his inhaler, and the smaller boy simply glared at him.

"I told you... Not to call... Me that" he huffed out, before taking a second dose. Richie said nothing more, but his eyes still glinted mischievously through his glasses.

"So, are any of the others coming down?" Eddie asked conversationally. He hadn't heard from them that day or seen any signs of them on his ride down.

"Naww," Richie said. "Big Bill wasn't feeling too great with the heat. Ben couldn't get past his worried mom. Beverly had chores, and can you imagine Stan the Man sitting out here breaking a sweat? I'm pretty sure it'd kill him. Haven't heard from Mike. So it seems like it's just you and me, Eddie ol' pal." At that he linked an arm up around Eddie's shoulders, sitting back as he looked out into the trickling water. The spot where his arm sat felt weirdly warm to the frailer boy. He quickly brushed it off as a result of the scorching air.

But you know it's more than that. You'd be feeling the same way if it was the dead middle of January.

He pondered the intrusive thought. The two of them were sitting in peaceful silence now, no jokes or bantering to draw his attention away from it. That couldn't be right, could it? This was just how friends felt. He liked Richie, so his company, his touch, it was bound to make him feel happy. Just like any of the other Losers.

Yet he'd linked arms and held hands and leaned by the others numerous times, and they never gave him that warm, buzzy feeling in his skin. Not even Bev, and heck, any one of them would admit she was a jaw-dropper. Just Richie.

Does that make me...?

He shook his head slightly to clear the thought, causing the other boy to spare a glance at him. No. He likes girls, all kinds of girls. Not Richie. And yet... 

"I'll blow ya for a dime. Come on, Eddie, it'll be nice. Hell, if ya come here I may even blow ya for free." Eddie jumped at the sound of the voice, which was in his head but clearly not his own. His eyes darted down at his reflection in the creek. His heart immediately dropped to his stomach at the sight before him. Glimmering in the water where his own face once shone, was none other than the leper from 29 Neibolt Street. It waggled it's rotten, bony fingers at him. "Come on, Eddie, come down here. I'll blow ya for free, and then teach you how to be just like me." The leper's face was now changing as he spoke. It was no longer the leper's face at all, but Eddie's reflecting back, all rotted to bits and missing a nose. Leper-Eddie continued. "You can chase all the boys you want with me, they'll give ya a dime alright. Maybe even a quarter for a mouth like yours-"

A high-pitched whine was the only sound his rapidly closing throat would allow as he scampered backwards, out from Richie's arm and away from the water. His chest tightened and his sobs quickly turned to gasps for air. As he continued to back away, the leper stuck a maggoty tongue out at him, then started to fade into the current.

"Eddie?! Eddie what's wrong? Hey, Eddie!" Richie was shaking him now, trying to snap him out of whatever episode he seemed to be having. Eddie could do nothing but point a shaking finger at the spot where the ugly face had been. By time Richie looked he saw only a sliver of rotting skin wisping away in the current, but he saw it all the same. He could just barely make out a haunting, whispery laugh from where he looked. He turned back to Eddie, who was still gasping and uttering hysterical phrases from where he sat. He seemed to be talking to the water itself.

"I'm not... like you, I'm not like you, I'll never go... with you, you can't... make me, I'm... not like you, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not-"

"Hey," Richie said, with unnatural softness. "Hey, listen, It's gone, you're okay." For the first time since seeing the grotesque reflection, Eddie looked into his friend's eyes. Despite his calm demeanor, they were terrified, darting back and forth across Eddie's own face. Richie's hair was plastered against his forehead with sweat and his chest heaved rapidly, trying to regain the lost breath from what he had just witnessed. "Here," he said, handing over Eddie's aspirator that had fallen on the ground. He made no comment this time as he watched Eddie fumble shakily with the trigger and blast the medicine into his lungs. "See? You're okay, you're with me, we're okay," he said again soothingly. He now reached and put a gentle hand on the trembling boy's back.

Eddie's rambling had stopped, and he was able to nod at Richie's comforting words. However, the second Richie's hand touched his back, he broke into sobs and nearly threw himself against him. He felt arms wrap around him as he cried, holding him close despite the heat. The two sat like that for what seemed like ages before either spoke.

It ended up being Eddie who broke the silence, if just barely. "I'm not like him" he whispered, "I'll n-never be like him."

The words were barely audible, but Richie heard them and pulled away slightly from Eddie's grasp. When Eddie's red, puffy eyes met Richie's dark pair, he saw that they were overflowing with seriousness and concern. Again, not something Eddie was used to.

"What are you talking about Eddie? What did you see?"

"Y-You mean you didn't hear it? It-It was talking to me, he was talking to me. His reflection in the water. The-" he paused as he tried to will himself to say the word. "The leper again."

Richie gulped, almost afraid that what he said next would hurt his friend to answer. "What did he say?"

Eddie flinched slightly at the question, though he knew it was bound to be asked. He knew he couldn't lie to Richie. He gave a shaky sigh before recounting what he'd heard. "He said he'd b-blow me. Like he did on 29 Neibolt Street. But not just that. He said th-that he'd teach me to be like him. And that I'd, that I'd chase boys with him. He said t-that my mouth, they'd pay me for my m-" he seemed to choke on the word and broke off in heavy tears again. "Richie, I, I think I'm... I think I like -"

"It's okay, Eddie," Richie cut him off, pulling him into another hug.

"B-but how did he know? I didn't even know, not really," Eddie cried out, muffled by Richie's sweat- and tear-drenched shirt.

"I don't know, Eds, It sees into our heads I guess. Past what we know is there."

"Hey, don't call me that," he managed to sniffle out, sitting back up. The dark haired boy smirked ever so slightly and muttered an insincere apology. They sat in silence for a few moments as Eddie dried his eyes and face on his own shirt. The quietness was broken momentarily when he realized how much he'd soiled Richie's clothes and apologized for the mess. It had been no problem, according to the other boy.

"Hey Richie," he piped up again a few minutes later. 

"Yes, my dear Eddie Spaghetti?"

"Quit it. I got a real question."

"Hit me with it."

"Do you think I'm frocked up?"

He watched as Richie balanced his glasses toward the tip of his nose and pretended to examine him with huge detail. "Beep beep, Richie," he said, about a minute into the playful analysis.

"Frocked up, you say? What, about you liking boys?" The statement was almost blunt, but not unfriendly.

"I mean, yeah. I know it's like, wrong. My mom says it and all the kids at school and the people up at the church, so it must be. But you never seemed bothered," Eddie said carefully. Could Richie really not think he's messed up at all for what he told him? But he found himself surprised by his friend's response.

"Naww, you're not frocked up Eddie. If you were, I think we would've known a long time ago."

"So you don't think it's weird?"

"Well sure it's weird. But a lot of people are weird. Hell, all us Losers are, right? But it's not like being queer makes you bad."

"But the leper-"

"I mean yeah, the leper is bad. But not every bad guy is queer and not every queer guy is bad. You gettin' what I'm saying, Eds?"

"Don't call me-"

"Right, right, my bad. But listen. Think about that one kid that was in the other fifth grade class. Timothy Atkins, I think his name is. He never came up and said it, but we all know he's queer. Sure he's a bit funny and takes a beating from Bowers pretty much every week, but does he seem bad to you?"

"No, I suppose not." Eddie still didn't feel right about it though, and he knew Richie could tell.

"Everyone may think liking boys in wrong, and maybe it is. But it doesn't make you evil. It doesn't put you anywhere near It's ranking. You think if it did you'd be trying so hard with the rest of us to stop It? You-" he stopped and Eddie felt his gaze grow stronger, more determined. He took a deep breath before going on. "You think that I would be trying so hard to stop It? You're not evil. I'm not evil. We're both just weird, I guess."

The meaning of his friend's words clicked together in Eddie's mind. He stared at him with huge eyes, hardly believing what he was hearing. "Richie... You're...?"

"Yessir, known for quite awhile now. Not really something I go telling people, not even Big Bill knows. Just crazy Richie being his crazy self, nothin' else to it to anyone just looking at me. I didn't even know if I wanted to tell you. But hey, I guess if anyone deserves to know at this point it's you." Richie leaned back with his arms out behind him, seemingly waiting for Eddie's response.

A little smile flicked over Eddie's face. "I'm glad I know I can talk to you, Richie. I'm glad you understand and that you like me all the same."

Richie's face curled up in a grin as well. "Anytime, Eddie. You know, it's actually nice that someone else knows now. About me, I mean. I was never one for big secrets."

Eddie got a laugh out of that. "Really? Loud, obnoxious, Trashmouth Tozier has trouble keeping stuff to himself? I would've never guessed..."

"Aye! I wouldn't go trash talking my secret keeping skills, I'm keeping yers, matey!" Richie fired back in an awful pirate impression. Before the "beep beep" could leave Eddie's mouth, Richie held up a hand. "Honestly though, your secret is safe with me. Just between us, both of ours. I wouldn't dream of telling a soul."

"Thanks Richie, same goes for me."

They sat next to each other under the hot sun, shadows overlapping, throwing stones once again into the stream.

"You know Richie," Eddie said softly. "I'm happy we have each other now more than ever." Richie hummed in agreement, and laced his fingers through Eddie's with a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

As was common in Derry, Maine, no weather pattern lasted too long. The insufferable heat that had laid heavily on the town during the previous week had given way to a raging downpour. Nearly two consecutive days of pouring rain drenched the streets, flooding lawns and basements galore. Given, it was nothing like the disastrous storm that had washed the streets the fall before. Still, it was enough to bring down the temperatures to a normal summer-in-Maine climate and bring up the dying trickle of the Kenduskeag to a healthy flow. Sunlight sparkled lazily in the stream, reflected from the sky that was once again clear and blue. If you walked through the Barrens at that moment not knowing any better, you would almost think you were peacefully alone. Almost.

Steady, steady. A dark little pair of eyes stared carefully out from behind the thick brush of the stream's bank. They scanned slowly back and forth across the other side of the water until...

There!

The movement was miniscule and quick, but enough for the hidden boy to pick up on. A tiny flash of sunlight against flaming red hair, only there for a second before disappearing behind the next tree up the bank. Beverly. The eyes now glanced down to the weapon in his lap. He raised it slowly, careful not to draw any attention to his own self. Doing so would be fatal. He squinted at where he knew she stood and aimed, ready to fire the second she poked her face out from behind her tree. A little smirk appeared on his lips as he saw the same red hair flutter back into the sunlight. He readied himself to pull the trigger, the word of victory on the tip of his tongue. In three... two... one...

"BANG!!" a voice yelled, but it wasn't his own. He barely had time to register who it belonged to before he was slammed and pinned to the ground. His toy gun flew out of his hand and twigs and rocks scratched up into his shirt.

"Oi! How dare ye try an' shoot tha' lady over they-a. Are ye mad?"

"Richie get the hell off me! What happened to staying on your side of the Kenduskeag? Those are the rules Bill said," Eddie pouted, struggling to slip his wrists out of the other boy's grip. Richie was quite literally on top of him, their faces so close that he could smell the candy and cigarettes on his breath and the dirt that was on his clothes. His mess of dark hair brushed down to tickle Eddie's nose. Eddie kept his face in a scowl even as hot color raced into his cheeks. The amount of effort he was putting into not glancing at the lips above him wasn't helping his case.

"My dear Eddie Spaghetti, there are no rules in war," Richie said, with all the dark seriousness of an assassin from a showing at the Aladdin. He then leaned even closer, making Eddie struggle again, before pushing his own gun into the trapped boy's chest and shouting out a "BANG!" He then finally released Eddie, standing up with a salute. "Thanks for making that so easy, my good chap, now off to find good ol' Big Bill." And then he was off, leaving Eddie shaking his head, not only to clear it of every thought he'd just had about his friend, but also because of how awful Richie's British accent had been.

Eddie picked himself out of the bushes in time to see Bill peek out and take a shot at Ben, who'd ventured out of cover for a better shot at his opponents. The teams had been him and Bill, Ben and Mike, and Richie, Stan and Bev, in an intense game of Guns. Stan had been out first, not willing to crouch low enough for the best cover. Too much mud from all the rain, he had tried to explain. The others were still in a raging battle.

Eddie sat next to where Stan was perched, watching the others. "Your rotten teammate just tackled me to the ground in my land," Eddie huffed out. He looked back to where Richie had darted back into the underbrush.

"I'm guessing you're not talking about Bev," Stan laughed.

Soon Ben came to join them, muttering about how much easier of a target he was to aim at. Eddie threw an arm around his friend's large shoulders, reminding him that at least he couldn't get taken taken to the ground by a shrimp like Richie.

"A buncha sore losers if I do say so myself!" Richie called out from his hiding spot, which Eddie supposed had been within earshot. But before the bespectacled boy could get another word in, he was ducking as Mike yelled a "BANG!" in his direction. And so the game continued.

Several minutes passed, along with several imaginary bullets, and no one else had been fatally caught. Eddie watched as Richie scanned that the coast was clear, and then beckoned his remaining teammate to cross the creek to him. However, he had managed to overlook Bill, who was lurking a little ways behind Beverly. As she placed her foot on the first stone crossing the water, he jumped out with a yell, gun aimed and "BANG"s firing. The noise shocked her and she lost her footing as she screamed out, going splashing into the murky water.

"S-s-shit, I'm s-sorry B-Be-Beverly. I-I d-d-didn't mean to s-st-startle you th-that b-bad," Bill said, dropping his toy gun. He helped her up with the assistance of Ben, who had rushed over the moment Beverly had slipped. Her white blouse was soaked and coated in mud. Eddie could see that both Ben and Bill were trying very hard not to let their eyes wander over to where her little bra showed through the now-translucent cloth. Bill hurried to give her his jacket to cover up with.

Richie and Mike, hearing the commotion, had also now emerged from the bushes. The former of the two saw his chance, and cried out a quick "BANG, BANG!" first at Mike, then at Bill. "There, m'lady, now at least we won against these madmen. And avenged poor Stan the Man too!" he exclaimed, throwing a wave to Stan, who was now following Eddie over to where the others were grouped.

"Yeah, I suppose," she said with a laugh. "I outta get going though anyhow. If I go now I'll have time to wash out the stains before my father gets home. He'll kill me if he sees what happened. He knows girls don't get this dirty playing with a bunch of other girls..."

Richie was quick to answer her. "Didja not see how I just shot, Beverly mah love? Why I'll take yo' papa right out before he can lay a-"

"Beep beep, Richie," Bev said. "I don't think that'd be a good idea." She smiled, but Eddie could see her subconsciously running a hand over the purpling bruise that wrapped around her arm. He knew Bill noticed it too, because he offered to walk her home and help her clean up the shirt.

"W-we've b-b-been here f-for a wh-whe-while anyw-ways. Th-the sun wi-will be guh-guh-going down s-s-soon," he determined, and the others nodded agreeingly.

Moments later they were all cracking jokes while gathering up their strewn toys and making their way back to the path home. As they were heading further away from the stream, Eddie felt his pocket frantically.

My aspirator, I forgot my aspirator.

He turned back to retrieve it, seeing that it sat next to the rock where him, Ben and Stan had been sitting. By time he grabbed the aspirator, the others had already rounded the bend and were out of sight. He quickened his pace, but then was stopped by a sudden movement that flickered in the edge of his vision. He looked out at the rushing water, realizing that he'd stopped at the same place he and Richie had been sitting when he saw the leper make his reappearance. But as Eddie looked now, he could see nothing but shards of color from his own face reflecting back at him.

Still he stood, and stood, and stood, mesmerized by the movement of the creek. Was that carnival food he smelled in the summer breeze? Something deep inside him was telling him that maybe if he reached into the water, his hand would come out wrapped in cotton candy, the kind of stuff his mom would never let him eat. Not only that, but there was another scent, too. Something like dirt and cigarette smoke and candy and boy. The same smell that had filled his nose when Richie had been on top of him earlier, face so close to his. To Eddie's surprise, it was almost enough to pull him in. He reached his hand out to the water, getting closer and closer. But then he noticed yet another smell, besides aromas of the carnival and of Richie. Something rotting, something sick, contagious even.

When he felt a hand wrap around his arm he jumped so hard he could've sworn his heart had left his body completely - popped right out of his mouth in fear.

"Eddie what the hell are you doing?"

It took Eddie a second to put together that this was not some evil entity come to kill him like every other child that had been murdered in the past months. Which was strange, because he hadn't even been thinking about monsters a second ago, had he? Just carnivals with fun and sweets and animals and Richie and...

Oh.

And clowns. When the realization hit him he jumped back like he had seen the silver suit and orange pom-poms himself. The hand that was clutching the aspirator twitched reflexively. Richie just stared at him, fear and understanding simultaneously flitting across his face.

"Let's get out of here, the others have probably already started heading home by now," Richie said, throwing a quick, suspicious glance at the water. Eddie nodded, still somewhat entranced by what had happened. He didn't even think to start walking until Richie grabbed his hand and gave him a gentle tug away from the glittering stream. Eddie finally shoved the pesky aspirator safely back in his pocket.

Neither of the boys spoke until the Kenduskeag was out of sight. It was Richie that broke the silence. "So, did you, ya know. See It again? In the stream?"

"Huh?" Eddie answered, the words bringing him out of his deep thoughts.

Thoughts about Richie.

No, just regular thoughts about all his friends. But mostly Richie. Which made sense after all since he was the only one he was walking with. And since they were still holding hands. What was it that Richie had asked?

Oh, right, what I saw in the water.

"No, I didn't see anything, really. I mean I thought I did which is why I stopped, but then nothing was there." This put a confused look on the dark-haired boy's face, so Eddie rushed to continue. "I smelled stuff though. Carnival food, like cotton candy. And other stuff too like..."

Like you.

No. No way was he about to admit that. He shook his head slightly and went on. "But anyways, somehow all the smells made me wanna reach out into the water. Who knows what would have gotten me if I had. I think It was trying to lure me in." He shuddered at the last thought. He had come so close to reaching in, too, his fingers just inches away from grazing the water before Richie had pulled him back.

Richie seemed to be reading his mind, because he gave out a short laugh. "Well gawd-damn, it's a good thing I decided to go back for you then. Who on earth would I have to pick on if ol' Itsy Bitsy gobbled my Eddie Spaghetti up?"

Eddie glared and punched his arm. "You know I hate when you call me that. Maybe I should've let It get me, then you could bother someone your own size."

"Daww we both know you love me, Eddie m'boy," Richie said, swinging his and Eddie's hands back and forth between them. Eddie knew their interlocked fingers were only proving the other boy's point, but he couldn't bring himself to let go. Instead he just muttered a 'yeah right' and swung his arm in beat with Richie's.

"Hey Eds," Richie asked a few swings later, bringing their hands to a slower pace.

"I keep telling you not-"

"What was the other thing you smelled by the water?"

This made Eddie stop in his tracks, his hand detaching from Richie's and dropping back to his side. They were so close to their bikes now that he could see them, and for a split second it occurred to him to chance the asthma attack and just make a run for it. But he knew Richie; if he acted that suspicious the kid would never let it go. Plus he was a lot faster than Eddie and his heaving little lungs. So instead he just looked back at the other boy, taking in his curious eyes, magnified by those coke bottle glasses. Then proceeded to say the first lie that came to mind.

"I-I don't know, I forget," Eddie squeaked out. Could he have thought of a weaker response? He knew the second the words left his mouth that Richie would never buy it.

The tiniest trace of a smirk made its way onto Richie's lips. "You're full of shit, Kaspbrak," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. He stared smugly at the frailer boy. "Why don't you want me to know so bad?"

That's when Eddie saw it. Just a little glimmer of it in his friend's dark eyes. He was probably the only one in the world that would have been able to catch it, knowing Richie better than anyone else. Even better than Bill did, since Richie had told him his little secret last week. The question had rolled off Richie's tongue so smoothly, but behind the self satisfaction, the mischievous glint, even the pure curiosity in those brown orbs...

Eddie saw the tiniest spark of hurt. A shard of emotion so small that it shouldn't have been crying out so loudly to him. Yet in that split second of silence between them he heard it loud and clear: Don't you trust me by now?

Of course I do! He wanted to tell him, because he did. But no matter how many hints I accidentally let slip, it'll never be the same as me actually admitting how I feel. How can I admit it to you when I can't even admit it to myself? Saying it out loud would change everything.

But he didn't say any of those things. He just pointed dully at the sky, not meeting Richie's eyes anymore, and uttered yet another lame excuse. "It's going to get dark. We should really leave soon, or my mom will have a fit."

Eddie could almost feel the other boy trying to shrug off his answer as they turned toward their bikes.

But there's no way he could have told Richie that he was what It used to nearly send him swimming to his death. Some little part of him was still convinced that he didn't have to be queer if he kept all the thoughts in his mind.

But wasn't it Richie that told you it wasn't bad to be queer? That it didn't make you an awful person?

But what if he was wrong? Eddie thought of Bowers and how bad he beat on that queer kid on the playground. He thought of the Kissing Bridge, with all its "God Hates Fags" and "Cocksuckers Get AIDs" titles carved into every inch of the wood and spray painted everywhere else. He thought of how his mom had sniffed and pulled him away from that man at the store that had walked funny, saying in a hushed tone how she just knew he was doing the devil's work in his spare time. Eddie had been so young he didn't even know what she was talking about at the time.

"Not every queer guy is bad and not every bad guy is queer," he could hear his friend's voice echoing in his head, countering his other thoughts.

But he remembered another voice from that day, too, one that sent icy chills into his very bones.

"I'll blow ya for a dime...teach you how to be just like me... chase all the boys you want with me..."

The words stuck out above the rest like a rotten, maggoty apple sitting at the top of a fruit bowl. He couldn't say anything, he couldn't be like that sick, ugly monster. For everyone's sake.

"See ya, Eddie me ol' chap! Until next time!" Richie called, breaking through the whirlwind of thoughts that spun around Eddie's head. Eddie looked up as Richie spoke, seeing how the cheerful voice definitely didn't reach his eyes that time. He could tell for sure now that Richie had been hurt by his lack of response.

Richie, the kid he didn't want to admit he cared for more than anyone else on the planet. Richie, who had been so gentle and kind when he told him how the leper had taunted him. Richie, who had been so accepting of who he was because he understood.

Not every queer guy is bad.

The voice was his own this time.

"Come on, Eddie, I'll teach you how to be just like me..."

No, he wasn't just like him, like It. He was Eddie, who loved his friends and had never wanted to hurt a fly in his life. Except now he was ready to fight back.

Not every queer guy is bad...

"God hates fags."

Well screw Him if He does.

... And not every bad guy is queer.

Some of his own words from the week before began to bubble at the surface of his mind.

"You know Richie, I'm glad we have each other now more than ever."

Richie had straddled his bike and was beginning to push off on the pedals, not sparing another look back in Eddie's direction. He made it a few yards before Eddie was able to reconnect his brain with his voice.

"Richie!"

Eddie watched as tires skidded to a stop. The taller boy looked at him quizzically through his thick hair. Eddie walked his bike over to him and stopped.

"I smelled dirt and candy and... and cigarettes... i-in the water. It smelled like," he stopped, scared to say the next word, scared that maybe his whole world would collapse if he did. "It smelled like you."

If Eddie hadn't flinched his eyes closed the second he finished his sentence, he would've seen how brightly Richie smiled when he heard those words. He maybe would have even been able to laugh at how Trashmouth himself was the one blushing for a change. Instead he just heard a bike topple moments before feeling warm arms nearly crushing him in a hug. But even that was enough to bring a breathy laugh of relief out of him. His world wasn't collapsing. Hell, maybe it was even getting brighter.

When Richie pulled back to look at him, Eddie thought for maybe the first time ever he saw nothing but pure joy on his friend's face.

Of course, he knew better than to think that would last for long. Richie's look of trouble glided back onto his face in a heartbeat.

"Ya know," he said, smiling slyly. "I could've guessed all along that It tried to use me to draw you in. You shoulda seen the way you looked when I tackled you earlier. Your face was like a god damned tomato if I've ever seen one." He laughed and swung an arm roughly around Eddie's shoulders, messing his hair with his free hand.

"Get off of me!" Eddie yelped, wriggling free. "You're an asshole, Richie Tozier."

"Yessir, that's me. Trashmouth Tozier, King of the Assholes, Master of Voices and Chucks!"

"Did I forget to mention you're obnoxious?"

"Somehow I think I've heard that one before, too. Which brings me to my Tozier Tip of the Day for you, my dear Eddie."

"And what would that be?"

"That an asshole like me," Richie said, handing Eddie his bicycle and picking up his, "is not worth getting yourself killed by an evil shape shifting monster for. Much less the simple smell of me, ya big weirdo."

"Message received," Eddie laughed, hopping up onto the seat of his bike. And yet somehow he was only able to agree with half of what Richie had said.

I'd be willing to risk my life to save your asshole self any day, Richie.

The thought stuck with Eddie the whole ride home, pushing any images of lepers or bullies or angry parents far out of his mind.

Chapter Text

"Hey Eddie ol' pal, I gotta question for ya."

Eddie looked up from the rusty nail he was fiddling with, his face curious. He'd been down at the Barrens since late morning helping the other Losers build the underground clubhouse. At least, he was helping as much as he could. He could do some heavy lifting, but it tired him out easily and made his lungs protest. So he mostly stuck to helping carry supplies from the junkyard and bringing Bill and Ben nails and other tools when they needed them. Now he was taking a break in the shade, sitting by himself while Bill, Beverly, Ben and Richie worked. Or at least he had been until moments ago.

"Sure, hit me with it Richie," he said as the other boy approached him.

"Hit you? Me? Hitting my little Eddie-boy?" Richie gasped out, in the dramatic voice of a worried mother. He grabbed Eddie's shoulders and shook them. "My baby boy I would never!"

Eddie shoved him away. "Piss off and just ask your question, numb nuts."

"Alright fine," Richie said, dropping to just his normal voice. This made Eddie mutter out a "thank God" that the other boy chose to ignore. Instead he just continued on with his query. "My mom and dad got invited to some dinner party tomorrow night. Since it's a Friday and all, they won't be back until real late, like the A.M.'s my mom said. So she said I should have a friend over. I guess with everything going on she's a'scared I might go running off on my own and get myself torn up." He stopped to smirk, lifting up his hair to show the ugly scar that was still there from his and Bill's visit to Neibolt Street. "Little does she know, I'm a right expert at almost getting myself killed with or without someone else there."

Eddie winced at the sight of it. It twisted his stomach knowing how close It was to getting Richie. Richie had sworn It had become the werewolf from the dumb movie at the Aladdin, and the gash was enough to prove it. But Eddie knew that Richie's parents would never see the blood on his head. Just like Bev's parents couldn't see the blood in her bathroom and Bill's couldn't see the blood in that photo album.

The thought made him shiver, and he made an active decision to focus on the other part of what Richie had said.

"So you're asking me to sleep over?"

Richie nodded. "Yeah, why not? If anyone could protect little ol' me from this town's Big Scary Kid Killer it's Huffin' Puffin' Eddie amiright?" He tried to ruffle Eddie's hair, but the smaller boy shrank away.

Richie let up and Eddie straightened, acting like he was weighing his options heavily. "Alright, I'll come over if my mom gives me the okay. But if you ever call me 'Huffin' Puffin' Eddie' again, I'm letting It eat you for breakfast."

"Sounds like a deal to me," Richie said. "I feel like I'd make a nice platter of scrambled eggs."

At that both boys cracked up, their laughter only dying down when they were interrupted by Beverly. She emerged from inside the clubhouse and called out to them.

"We're down here doing all this work, and you two nutters have been sitting in the shade for ages," she huffed out, her smile giving away her underlying amusement.

"Oh I'm so saw-ry Miss Scawlett, I didun mean ta make you mad! I'm goan ta come help you right now, Miss. You is right, we was bein' a buncha no good-"

"B-B-Beep-beep, R-Richie," Bill called up from the hole.

And with that Richie got up and held out an arm to Eddie, heaving him to his feet. The two were still stifling giggles as they made their way back to the clubhouse.

The five of them worked until the sun started to get lower, marking the approaching curfew. They then started cleaning up their tools and mess, laughing in childlike humor along the way. The clubhouse was coming along steadily, and the inner walls were nearly finished. Ben offered up some candies to celebrate another day of hard work. Beverly opened a fresh pack of cigarettes, handing one to Richie and lighting one for herself. Eddie patted his pocket to make sure he had his aspirator, still not willing to take any risks of forgetting it and having to retrieve it alone. Not after what happened last time.

"Oi," Richie called to him as they reached their bikes. "Don't fo-get to tell ya Ma that yer chummin' wit me tomah-row night, ya betta' give me ya word." His Italian Mob Boss voice was enough to make Beverly snort and shake her head. He turned to her next. "Yeah, I got my eye on you, girly. Don't ya dare go laughin' at me!"

But despite his threats, they all laughed at his absurdity. Eddie smiled up at him, holding back giggles. "Don't worry, I won't 'fo-get,'" he mocked, making Ben and Beverly howl, and even causing Bill to get in a good laugh.

Each of them mounted their bikes and began to take off, one by one. Eddie started home with Bill on his tail, and they rode like that until they reached the library. Then Bill studdered a good-bye and was off toward his own house. Eddie faintly heard a "Hi-Yo Silver, AWAYYY" in the distance, and then he was alone.

As he rode on, he began to think more and more about staying the night at Richie's. He was going to spend the whole night there, just him and Richie. No parents, no other Losers, just them. The thought put a bubbly, flip-floppy feeling in his stomach. Part of him wanted to say he was clueless as to why it made him feel that way. But the other part of him knew better.

"Now," he thought, "I just have to convince my mom to let me go."

Wouldn't that be a trick? She had only let him spend the night at a friend's once before. He had gone to Bill's and his mom had made Mrs. Denborough come over to go through all his medicines with her. What he had to take at what time, punctuated by comments about how fragile her little boy was. Apparently him being gone had worried her too much, and he hadn't been allowed back since. But he also hadn't pushed very hard on the subject since then. This was different, this was a night at Richie's. The thought excited him enough to make him think of how to sway her.

• • •

Eddie took his final bottle of pills from his heavily filled medicine cabinet and squished it into the bag his mom had given him. It had taken hard work and bargaining, but his mother had finally given in to his wishes. Which, by her definition, had been the act of wiping tears from her cheeks and accusing Eddie of leaving her. But if that's what he really wanted, she wouldn't stop him, she had said.

A little pit of guilt still sat heavily in his stomach, like a dirty rock from the lower part of the Barrens. He tried to push it away as he zipped the bag closed, thinking of Richie and how much fun they'd have. Besides, he had promised his mom he'd call her the second he got there, and then spend the whole rest of the weekend with her. It's not like he was leaving her completely. It was just one night, right? He was still a good son and he still loved his mom.

The guilty weight was lifted, if only slightly. He went back up to his room to grab his backpack that held everything else he needed. After double checking that he had all the necessities, he slung the straps over his shoulders.

As he entered his kitchen, he heard a huff from his mother.

"How am I supposed to be okay with letting you run off for the night if you can't even remember to get a coat?"

Eddie glanced over at his coat on its hook and tried to keep the slight annoyance off his face. After all, Derry was up to a decent heat again, not even the frailest old lady needed a coat today. He sighed a little and snatched it up anyways, throwing it around his waist.

He gave his mom a tight hug and, for the sake of his conscience, a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Love you Ma, I promise I'll call you when I get there," he said, not looking at her face. He knew if he did he'd just see disappointment written there. She sighed and grumbled a "you better," and with that Eddie was out the door.

He soon discovered that the trip to Richie's was not going to be a fun one. Now that his backpack had been dragging on his shoulders for a time, his back was starting to ache. Alongside that, his medicine bag sat in the front basket of his bike and was heavy enough to overbalance the forward end of it. It caused Eddie all the more effort to simply not fall down on every turn he made. Not to mention the summer heat. All in all, by time he reached his friend's door he was heaving. When Richie went to let him in, he practically threw himself into the cool air.

"And here I thought I invited my good friend Eddie over. Must've been confused, 'cause you look like his sweaty, beet-colored twin instead," Richie mused. He took the bags from the poor boy and tossed them on the couch. "I'll gitcha some water, then maybe you'll start looking human again."

Eddie did nothing but glare as he handed over his things and reached for his aspirator. He couldn't have even commented back if he wanted to, his lungs were still burning from the trek. He took a puff of medicine just as Richie was returning with a glass.

"Jesus," Richie remarked, as Eddie took the water and drained it with ease. "I didn't think the ride here would kill you. Why'd you bring so much junk with you anyways?" He gestured to the heavy medicine bag that sat on the couch.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "It's not junk, it's my medicine. I only have it all in case something happens, my mom's always making sure I'm prepared," he said, unwrapping his coat from his waist and tossing it on top of the bag. "Which reminds me, I promised her I'd call once I was here."

As Eddie went to the phone, Richie peeked under the coat at the medicine bag once again. He unzipped it and laughed. "Well gawd-damn, if we can find a way to feed all this to It, it just might kill him instantly."

Eddie took a hand off the phone to give the other boy the finger. To his irritation this only made him laugh more. He decided to retaliate by simply turning his back toward Richie and disregarding him, at least until he was done on the phone. Once his mom was satisfied enough of her son's safety, they said their goodbyes and Eddie hung up. He then spun back to face his friend, catching him mid-mockery. Richie froze with his tongue out and his hands held up to each side of his head like ridiculous antlers. As the smaller boy scowled, Richie straightened up and saluted, choosing to act like he hadn't been caught.

"I can't believe I have to spend the rest of the night with you." Eddie rolled his eyes as he spoke.

"Come on, Eds, ya know ya love me," Richie smirked, his posture dropping back to a casual state.

"I should just leave now, save myself the trouble if you're not even going to call me by my name."

"Oh-ho-ho, my dear boy." The dark haired boy pointed to the clock on the wall. "You can't, you won't make it home before curfew. Little baby Eddie is stuck here all night, with his best friend in the whole world!"

Richie reached to pinch Eddie's cheek, but Eddie was quick to swat him away. "I'd rather be best friends with a rabid dog than a loon like you."

Before his eyes could register the quick flash of movement, Eddie felt himself being tackled onto the couch. He yelped out in shock, with no hope of getting the upper hand against the stronger boy. "Lucky for you," Richie said with a pathetic attempt at a snarl, "I'm a wild raccoon and I have rabies, too!" He tried to snap his teeth menacingly, digging his hands into Eddie's sides and tickling him.

Eddie let out a full belly laugh, trying to roll away from his assailant's hands. "St-stop it, you dumbass!" He breathed out, still cackling with the ongoing attack. By time Richie let up Eddie was almost wheezing.

"Ya know Eds," Richie began in a matter-of-fact voice. "If I really was a rabid raccoon, I totally could've mauled you by now. We should really work on your strength, little guy." He extended out an arm and helped Eddie to his feet.

"I hate you a lot," Eddie breathed out. But they both knew he didn't.

•••

The rest of the evening went by tickle-free, to Eddie's relief. They ate leftover lasagna for dinner that Richie's mom had left, Eddie scarfing three portions without his mother there to stop him. They then entertained themselves with board games - at which Eddie was convinced that Richie had cheated - and comic books for hours. Then as the night dragged on, both of their eyelids started to droop and they agreed that bedtime was approaching. It wasn't even eleven o'clock yet, but neither of them complained. Richie pulled out as many blankets and pillows as he could find and fashioned them into a bed for Eddie, next to his own. The two of them had barely gotten settled under their warm sheets before they were slumbering away.

After what seemed like seconds of being asleep, Eddie woke with a start. He glanced around the room hazily, trying to pinpoint what had caused him to wake up so suddenly. No sound came from Richie's bed, so whatever it was hadn't woken him. The bedroom and closet doors were still closed, and moonlight was peacefully glowing through the window.

Eddie decided that perhaps it had just been a gust of wind against the window or the call of some animal outside. He began to settle himself back down into his warm blanket cocoon, putting himself back at ease. But as his eyes scanned once more around the room, they settled on the far corner and caught at something peculiar. He stared, waiting for his pupils to adjust. The second they did, he felt his blood turn to ice.

Two flecks of yellow glowed in the shadows, surrounded by a darker mass. The shape moved forward slowly, and any last bit of hope that his sight was playing tricks on him left Eddie's mind. Moonlight bounced off of silver cloth as the the trespasser left the dark corner, orange pom-pom buttons contrasting darkly with the shiny suit. Soon blood red lips and a chalk white face were illuminated by the glow. A silver gloved hand clutched a small bunch of balloons, shining in shades of red, blue, yellow and green.

Eddie's fear froze him in place, with only his chest moving as his breathing sped up and his throat closed.

"Well if it isn't my good friend Mr. Kaspbrak!" The clown seemed to survey his face and gave out a little frown, the red that painted around his lips moving with them. "Shouldn't you be happier to see your pal Pennywise? Everybody likes a dancing clown."

Eddie managed to shake his head as the clown continued to approach. Still he couldn't escape - he found that his body wouldn't move enough for him to run. It was like Pennywise himself was restricting him, holding him in place. He finally found his voice and yelled the first thing that came to mind.

"RICHIE! Richie wake up, help me!"

But there was no response, not even the slightest movement in the bed next to him. Eddie was gasping for breath now, unable to shift enough to snatch his aspirator off the bedside table above him. The clown stopped and smiled at him. It was a grin that made Eddie tremble, made his stomach twist and turn and made tears well up in his eyes.

"Go... AWAY!" Eddie screamed between gulps of air. "RICHIE!" He was practically sobbing now.

"Come on now Eddie, there's no need for all that shouting. Do you really think your good friend Richie Tozier is going to help you?" Eddie shot a glance back up at the bed. "He's not here, he left you to have a little chat with me. He lied to you! He's not like you and he doesn't want a sick little queerboy hanging with him! None of your little friends do!" A loud chuckling laugh bounced around the room, echoing as if they were in a mile long cave - or miles of sewers, Eddie thought - instead of a bedroom.

Eddie shook his head again, more violently, shouting as much as his lungs would allow over the ugly laugh. "NO! ...H-he wouldn't! ...W-We all stick together... and we're... going... to kill you!" But through the blur of his tears, he could see It wasn't convinced. Yellow eyes looked intensely into Eddie's brown pair, and It simply sneered.

"Well now, Eddie, why don't you just hop on up and wake your friend. Then you can both kill me together." The clown gave out a hysterical laugh that filled every inch of the room.

Eddie felt himself inch upward, but not by his own command. He had almost no control of his body. His line of sight peeked over the edge of Richie's bed and another sob escaped his lips.

Richie was gone.

Then he was back on the floor, using all his might to force himself to crawl backwards. His back hit the wall and he found that he had nowhere else to go. He was stuck, still unable to run.

"Come on Eddie, come with me. You don't need Richie! There are plenty of other fellas floating around that could make you feel even better. Come float with us, I'll introduce you to a few," the clown taunted. Eddie scrunched his eyes closed and shook his head yet again. "No? It really is quite a good deal. We'll have so much fun! The boys I know, they'll kiss you 'til you're blue, wherever you want them to. Final offer..." It trailed off and laughed again, and Eddie bawled and whipped his head back and forth with even more ferocity . His heart raced and he didn't know how he was even alive his breathing was so thin.

"Well now that's alright my sickly little friend. Offers can be declined. But since you let me borrow some of your time, I might as well let you borrow some of mine. And I think I know a nice payment for you, Eddie my pal."

A bouncy cackle surged through the room again. But as Eddie listened to the deadly sound, it began to change. The bubbly tone faded into a harsher, dryer one, the laughs becoming more hoarse. Eddie opened his eyes, and to his horror the monster in front of him was changing as its voice was. Smooth white skin began to flake and rot, the cloth of the suit rotting with it. Fluffy clown hair became brittle, coarse and brown. The bright red nose and lips seemed to rot away completely, and the eyes went from yellow to a glazed, sickly blue. One of them dropped out of Its skull completely

It was no longer Pennywise the Dancing Clown before him, but the leper he feared so deeply.

"Come on, Eddie, I'll blow ya for free. You've been such a good little fella, you deserve to be treated like one," he croaked. A sobbing whine whistled out of Eddie's throat.

As the leper stumbled forward, he let go of the balloons that were still wrapped in his decomposing hand. As they hit the ceiling they bounced and multiplied, filling the room with color. More color than should have been possible in the dim glow of the moonlight. Flashy gold lettering on each balloon read the words "Fags Float Too!" and looking at them made Eddie's dinner rise in his throat. The balloons closed tighter and tighter around him, nearly suffocating him. Still the leper moved towards him with ease, as if nothing was there. Eddie didn't think he could cry any harder if he tried. At this point he barely registered the screaming around him as his own.

The leper was at the foot of Eddie's makeshift bed now, slowly crouching himself down to the boy's level. Eddie squirmed against the wall, balloons squeaking and bulging around him. He could do nothing to escape as infected hands reached for him. He shook and struggled with all the wildness of a trapped animal.

The leper was grinning as much as his diseased face would allow. "Come here and sit still now. My mouth will make ya feel so good. Let me blow ya, I'll do it for free."

The hands reached his hips, dragging rotting fingers across his skin and under the waistband of his pajamas. His throat was raw and his lungs were beaten, but still he screamed louder than any other sound that had previously left him. He was shaking with seizure-like violence now, able to feel every crevice, blister and scab on Its fingers. Strings of "no" and "stop" spewed incoherently out of his lips.

"Eddie!"

The leper was shouting his name, it was mocking him. Fingers pulled the waistband lower and lower down his hips.

"Eddie, please!"

But that wasn't the leper's voice, it was too scared, too young. Eddie's body shook even more furiously, enough to hurt his arms and jostle his head. The leper's head was now tilting down toward his midsection. He screamed and struggled again, balloons pushing into him on all sides.

"Come on, Eds, wake up!"

This time his body jerked, and his whole soul seemed to jerk with it. Eddie's eyes flew open to meet the harsh light of a bedside lamp. All the color was gone and he no longer heard the squeak of latex or felt it on his skin. His eyes darted around madly, finally resting on the figure sitting beside him. The figure's hands were gripping his shoulders, still shaking him hard. In his panic he cried out and tried to move away, only to find that the blankets had entangled his legs and were holding him in place. Eddie finally kicked hard enough to get the strangling covers off of him. In his haste his foot struck whoever was next to him and they also cried out. Eddie scampered to the far corner of the room, opposite to where Pennywise had stood. He hadn't realized how lightheaded he was until he felt himself sag against the wall, his head spinning. He still couldn't breathe and his cries came out as rapid whistles. He was trembling and his vision was fading and he knew he was close to fainting.

"Eddie?" A soft voice suddenly broke through the sounds of his asthmatic gasps. His eyes fixed back on the figure from which the voice came. It was not a monster as he had initially assumed, but a boy. One he knew very well, at that.

"Eddie, it's just me. It's just Richie, and no one else is here. You need your aspirator, okay? You need to breathe, so I'm going to bring it to you." He spoke gently, if not a little shakily. Eddie took in his messy dark hair, coke bottle glasses, and frightened face. He nodded in response to Richie, slightly less panicked but still not able to properly work his lungs.

Richie inched just close enough to hand over the medicine, and Eddie took it quickly and gratefully. He triggered it into his lungs, once then twice, and sat back against the wall. He was still crying heavily, but at least his throat was loosening and he was getting air.

A few seconds passed before Eddie looked back at his friend. He was there, he hadn't left, he had saved him. Despite what he was - sickly and weak and queer. Fresh tears welled in his eyes, and through the blur he thought that maybe Richie had tears in his as well.

Richie, who had been sitting so unnaturally quiet and patient, finally spoke. "Jesus, Eddie. You really scared me, there. I was afraid you were gonna -" he cut himself off, still speaking carefully. "You couldn't breathe. I had to wake you up so you could breathe." His voice cracked slightly, and Eddie decided that those were definitely tears he had seen behind those glasses. He had made Richie, of all people, cry.

Eddie looked down again, wiping his sloppy wet face on his shirt. He didn't know what to say. He knew he must have been screaming in his sleep, and thoughts of what Richie may have heard made his heart sink with shame.

"I'm sorry," he ended up whispering. It was all he could think of to tell the other boy.

Brief confusion flitted across Richie's face.

"What? No, you have nothing to be sorry for. It just scared me is all. It's not like you could control it."

Control the sobbing, the screaming as the leper came closer and closer. Ready to do things that Eddie never wanted to do. Ready to contaminate him forever. Another choked cry left his lips.

Richie looked at him cautiously, then moved forward to sit next to him against the wall. Out of the corner of his eye Eddie saw his friend reach for him, then hesitate. Eddie figured Richie wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to be touched. He answered the silent question by leaning into him. The other boy slowly wrapped an arm around his shoulders in response, bringing them even closer.

For the first time since Eddie fell asleep, he felt safe. The flow of his tears slowed, as did the rapid beating of his heart. The fear that had raced through his veins like electricity subsided. The leper was truly gone, it was only him and Richie in the room.

Richie seemed to sense that he had calmed down because he spoke once again, his breath rustling Eddie's hair. "Your nightmare was about It, wasn't it?" Eddie remained silent, but it seemed his friend had known the answer before he had even asked. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Eddie thought about it. Where would he even begin? With the fact that Pennywise had been in this very room? How the clown had taunted him, then transformed into something so much worse? Would he be able to choke out how the balloons with their condemning message had threatened to suffocate him? Or how the leper had caught him and-

Touched me. He touched me in ways so dirty and wrong and horrible.

A shudder coursed through his body. He knew he couldn't say any of that. Not without breaking down once again. But there was something else. Something in that dream that had unsettled him on a deeper level, something he had to tell Richie about.

"You weren't there," he finally said, pulling away to look at his friend. "It was going to hurt me and you left me. It said you didn't care about me, because I'm small and sick and queer. It said you lied about being my friend, and I guess It meant you lied about being queer, too."

Richie just stared at him. He seemed momentarily at a loss for words - a quality that made Eddie a little nervous when it came to Trashmouth Tozier. He found himself wishing that Richie would just crack a joke like he always did, despite all that had just happened. Do some ridiculous voice that made him roll his eyes. Then they could have a good laugh and go back to sleep like Eddie had never said anything about the nightmare.

But Richie's eyes were serious, and when he spoke his voice was filled with concern rather than humor. "I'll always care about you, no matter what. Okay? I'd never leave you if you needed my help, and I'd never let you face It alone if I could help it." Richie's ebony eyes bore into Eddie's honey brown pair. "And I would never lie to you about those things. Especially about being queer. What kind of person lies about that stuff anyways? I get my ass kicked around enough without the world knowing I'm some fairy boy." He laughed at that, and even Eddie found it to be an absurd lie now that he thought about it.

"Also," he said as an afterthought, "I like you small. Big guys' cheeks aren't nearly as cute and pinchable." He reached a hand toward Eddie's face and he swatted him away with a glare that gave way to a smile. "It also makes you much more huggable," Richie noted, pulling Eddie into a tight squeeze.

"Alright, I get it, I get it!" He laughed, wiggling away from Richie's grasp. Suddenly his exhaustion from the ordeal caught up to him, and his giggle was broken by a yawn.

"Oh, mah little boy is gettin' sleepy! We ought ta get you ta rest, less you be a grumpy little man in the morn'!" Richie called out in his shrill granny voice. Eddie gave him a light shove.

"Oh, shut up you wet end, it was just a yawn."

Richie shrugged. "We should probably go back to sleep anyways, my parents will be home soon and my mom'll freak if we're awake still."

Eddie couldn't disagree with that, but as he glanced at his pile of blankets on the floor he wished he could. No way in hell did he want to sleep back down there. The other boy noticed the change in his expression and looked at him questioningly. Eddie took a deep breath and looked away from the bed.

"Can... can I sleep in your bed with you instead? I don't want to sleep down there alone. It... It might try to ya know, get me again." The words sounded so childish when he said them that he had to hold back a wince.

As the other boy looked at him hesitantly. Eddie could almost read his mind.

If his parents find us like that, they might think something's up.

But Eddie was desperate, he couldn't sleep down on the floor again. Not with those nightmares threatening to take him once more. A tiny little word escaped him, barely a whisper.

"Please?"

Richie looked at his worried face a moment longer and finally seemed to make up his mind. He smirked and grabbed Eddie's arm. "Well now how could I possibly deny such a cute young man like yourself?" His voice was in the high pitch of a flirty girl. He sat on his bed and pulled Eddie with him. "I just wanna eat you up!"

To Eddie's slight disgust, Richie started planting sloppy kisses on his hand and arm, the way those boys in the movies do when they greet a pretty girl. Eddie squeaked out a couple of "ew"s and "gross"s before he was able to pull his arm free.

"And to think!" Richie exclaimed. "Our buddy It tried to tell you I wasn't queer!" They both laughed and sat up, letting their giggles die down.

Eddie smiled and was reminded again of how good Richie was, how safe he felt with him. They were sitting close now on top of Richie's sheets, just kind of looking at each other. But it wasn't a weird look, it was a comfortable one. Both of their eyes sparkled with the childlike playfulness of two boys, and with something else, too.

Before either of them knew it, they seemed to be gravitating toward each other, each pulling into the other's comfort. Eddie's face was inching closer to Richie's, and he found himself looking at his friend's lips. They looked soft and pink and inviting. He knew what was going to happen, he'd seen it happen before. Between young couples in the streets, between attractive Hollywood stars at the Aladdin, between moms and dads. But never between two young boys on a bed, alone in the middle of the night. He knew it was wrong but somehow, in this moment, it didn't seem that way.

"The boys I know, they'll kiss you 'til you're blue."

The harsh voice cut through his thoughts and froze the bubbles that danced freely in his chest.

"I'll blow ya for free, then teach you how to be just like me."

The words flickered into his mind, almost seeming to float around in his head. His lips were now only centimeters apart from the other boy's. Hoarse laughter that was not his own bounced around his skull.

Suddenly Eddie knew. It was as if he was watching a key turning in a locked door. The second his lips met Richie's, it would open a gateway for more taunting, more dreams, more fear for It to use. He wanted nothing more than to close the gap between them, but it had a price. And he knew he couldn't bare it.

"I can't," he whispered, pulling back.

Richie's soft expression tensed and he too moved away. His cheeks blazed red and Eddie immediately knew the other boy blamed himself for how Eddie was stopping them.

"I'm so sorry Eds, I didn't mean to-" he paused, his eyes going from alarmed to disheartened in a heartbeat. He now looked down, fixing his eyes on his lap. "I thought you wanted to."

Eddie was quick to shake his head. "No, no, I want to, I-" Richie looked puzzled enough to make him pause, then hurry on to explain.

"It'll just use it to hurt me. Anything we do. The nightmares will only get worse. Hell, It might even use it to kill me."

Richie nodded, still seeming disappointed, but appearing to understand as well.

"I really like you a lot you know," Richie said, still not looking up. "More than I've ever liked Bill or Bev or anyone else. And as if I didn't already hate It for how It's killed all those kids, I hate It even more for hurting you so much." His eyes finally met Eddie's. "But It won't be able to hurt you forever. I'll kill the bastard myself if I have to."

Eddie let a small smile creep onto his lips. "I bet you could joke It to death if you really wanted. Do so many bad impressions and dirty jokes that It straight up decides to end Its own life." He widened his grin. "You wouldn't have to lay a finger on It."

The seriousness finally fell back off of Richie's face as well. "Yeah, well I still think we have a better shot by launching your whole medicine bag right down Its throat."

Whatever awkwardness there had been faded once again, leaving them the same two friends they'd always been. Bantering and laughing and acting as young boys do. With little hints of something more that Eddie still found himself trying to hide. But he knew it was there, and he knew Richie felt it too.

They finally found themselves crawling under the covers, snuggled close on the twin sized bed. It had been a long night, and lack of sleep was catching up with them both. Eddie let his breathing slow, taking in the features of Richie's face one last time before letting his eyes close.

Not a single clown, nor leper, nor any other monster entered Eddie's dreams for the rest of the night. He dreamt only of dark hair and ebony eyes, cigarettes and candy and soft pink lips. The images made his heart feel warm and free. He smiled a little as he slept.

Chapter Text

As summer drew on, the air changed in Derry.

The sky blazed in hues of oranges and pinks as dusk approached on yet another August day in the town. Birds chirped gleefully and leaves rustled calmly in the light breeze. The fiery sunset began to fade into subdued shades of purple and blue, signaling the approaching night. Mere days ago this would have meant that the safety of the day was coming to an end. Children would have been shooed inside by either watchful parents or dutiful police officers. Any kid who failed to listen put themselves at a dreadful risk, one that had been harassing Derry citizens for months. Nighttime was a time for fear.

But now as two young boys walked together in the dimming light, neither them nor any adult who saw them felt such fear. The threat was over.

In the eyes of the majority of the town, this meant the threat had been caught. The deranged maniac who had been ripping away their children was discovered. Despite the assumption that the murderer had been an old pervert, no one was truly shocked in hearing that it had been the Bowers kid instead. And in case the killing and mutilation of kids wasn't enough, the nutter had murdered his own father, too. But luckily he had a spot up at Juniper Hill now, the townspeople would say. He wouldn't be hurting anyone ever again, they were certain.

When the news of the psycho's arrest reached a certain group of seven, none quite knew what to say. When Bill told Eddie, both had looked at each other before averting their eyes to the cast on Eddie's arm. They both knew he didn't kill those kids, but they seemed to silently agree that it was best to keep that knowledge hidden. Who would believe the truth in Henry Bowers' defense anyhow? And all seven Losers knew he would have murdered every one of them given the chance. As far as they were concerned, Bowers was exactly where he belonged.

However, this was just icing on the cake for the heroic group. Unlike the rest of the town, they were at ease for another reason. They knew the truth. The threat was gone because they had fought It and defeated It. They had won.

It was this that had encouraged the two boys to take a walk so late at night. They were some of the ones truly responsible for the lifting of the curfew, and perhaps this made them even more excited than most to test their freedom.

So Eddie walked long past seven o'clock, with Richie walking on his left. The pair joked and laughed and bantered as loud as they wanted and no one told them to hurry indoors. Eddie thought it might have been the most freeing thing he'd ever experienced. Their laughter eventually died down and they instead walked in a peaceful quiet. The type of quiet that used to be so rare between him and Richie, but now didn't seem so strange. Eddie thought maybe it was because they had grown somehow, over the course of just that summer. Everything that they had faced - especially that day in the sewers - it had aged them in a way. He didn't feel as much like a kid anymore, and he figured the others felt the same way.

As he mulled over these thoughts, he and Richie walked on, going nowhere in particular. Every once in a while they looked to each other and smiled or cracked a joke. They were close enough that their hands bumped occasionally, but neither were willing to lace their fingers through the others'. Not this publicly, at least. Henry Bowers may be locked up, and the leper gone, but there were plenty of other people who wouldn't react well if they thought something was up. That was another thing he reflected on a lot.

Imagine what Ma would think of me if she knew. If someone saw and told her.

The scary thought flickered through Eddie's mind as his fingers brushed Richie's once again. The anxiety that it produced made his breath quicken, if only slightly.

"Well mah Gawd," Richie hooted in yet another one of his Voices, breaking through Eddie's thinking. "Who woulda thawt we'd make it awl the way across town befo' the stahs was even out."

At least if one thing hadn't changed, it was his friend's inability to properly do a good impression. But however dumb Richie had sounded, Eddie realized he was right. Somehow they'd managed to walk all the way from his house to the Kissing Bridge. The glow of the street lights didn't quite reach the bridge, but he could still tell that it was empty of people. Nothing unusual this early on a Tuesday night.

"Wow, we really have been walking for awhile haven't we?"

"Yeah I guess we have. Do you wanna like, sit down for a little bit?" Richie asked, motioning to the bridge. He smirked and pinched Eddie's cheek "Because you look a bit spent, my dear little Eddie Spaghetti!"

"Hey, get off me! Quit it!" Eddie swatted him away. "And I'm just as fine as you are anyways, I don't need a break."

"You just started breathing harder," the other boy pointed out.

He was right, Eddie knew, but it wasn't because of any physical activity he had been doing. But after a second of thought he decided to allow Richie to pull him to the bridge anyhow. They'd still have plenty of time to get home by a decent hour, and there was no one around to bother them. It didn't seem worth his time to argue to keep walking.

Richie went to the center of the bridge and plopped himself down on the edge, popping his feet through the gap under the pedestrian railing and letting them dangle over the stream. Eddie followed him but remained standing.

I can't see the ground all that well in the dark. Who knows what I might sit on? Sticky gum that someone spit out or a wet glob of bird poop or who knows what else.

But truth be told, the sky was still a darkened blue and he could see the ground just fine. That wasn't it and he knew it. He didn't want to admit it - maybe because the other boy seemed so oblivious to it - but it was the writing. All the graffiti carved into those wooden rails. If he was to sit down he'd be nose to nose with all those carved slurs against people who weren't the same.

Against queers like me.

As if reading his mind, Richie glanced up at him and patted the ground. "Ain't you gonna take a seat bah me? Or are you gonna leave a babe like me sittin' all by herself?" he said, in his Southern Babe Voice. It seemed to have become one of his favorites around Eddie.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "I don't really want to sit down," he paused, then gave his initial excuse for standing. "The ground's probably dirty."

"What are you Stan the Man now? The dirt's not gonna eat you up, Spaghetti Man."

"I hate when you call me that."

"Why do you really not want to sit so bad?"

That was another thing that had changed over the past few weeks. Richie could tell when something was off about Eddie no matter how well he tried to hide it. He supposed after all the horrors they'd faced together they were bound to be closer, more observant of each other. He stared over the railing for a bit longer, taking in the rushing black current and the way the reeds whispered in the breeze, before answering the curious boy.

"I don't want to look at the words," he admitted, not taking his eyes off the water.

"You mean the graffiti? All these 'Kill the Queers' loads of shit?"

Eddie winced slightly at the bluntness of Richie's words, then nodded. "Yeah. I don't think they're put there to make us feel warm inside."

"I don't know, this one here really gives me a fuzzy feeling in my chest. 'Only the Devil fucks fags.' It's an honor really, I hear that guy's a big deal down in hell." Richie said it in such a matter-of-fact way that Eddie couldn't help but let a smile twitch on his lips.

"Beep beep, Richie," he said, but Richie ignored him.

"I like this one even better: 'Burn all Ass-Bandits!' It almost sounds like the name of some gang of queer pirates." Richie bent his finger into a hook. "Arggh mateys! We're here ta steal yer ship and raid you of yer booty!"

Eddie's smile erupted into a fit of laughter, and Richie scooted himself over. "Here, you can sit next to Ass-Bandits. That's the only bad thing written on that part of the railing. I'll take the nice one about the Devil doing us the dirty."

The smaller boy grinned and finally sat down. He looked at the carving for himself and felt more giggles bubble into his chest. He looked to Richie and smiled genuinely this time.

"You know, I'm pretty sure you're the only one in the world who could make this graffiti even a little funny," he said.

Suddenly Eddie found himself admiring Richie once again. How was he so fearless, so unaffected by what people thought about boys like them? In the midst of his thoughts his mouth seemed to move on its own accord, forming words to match what he was thinking.

"How do you do it?"

"What, laugh at all the dumb graffiti?"

"I mean yeah," Eddie started, "But more than just that. How are you always so unafraid of being queer? You never seem scared or doubtful. Even though people would hurt you bad if they knew. It says it all over the bridge and every park bench in the city." He almost stopped there, but then deciding to add to his words. "I'm scared that I'm queer, you know. I still don't even like saying that I am. Some people would be happy to break a lot more than my arm if they found out."

Richie looked at him for a second. Then he looked down to where his legs were hanging over the stream. "I am afraid." He answered simply.

"But-"

"If I wasn't scared don't you think I would've at least told Big Bill?" Richie interjected. "I only told you because you told me first, I knew it was okay because we're in the same boat." Eddie knew that if he could see his eyes they'd have the same determination in them as when Richie first told him his secret. His friend continued.

"But the thing is, Eddie, I don't let it keep me from being happy. And I don't ever want to let fear wreck my life, I want to fight it. That's what we did in the tunnels, right? And we beat It because of it. Plus I mean, especially now, it seems like there are bigger things to worry about besides being stuck on the fact that I'm queer," he said with a shrug.

Eddie nodded in understanding and looked back to his own shoes dangling over the edge. It made him feel a little better knowing that Richie was at least a little bit scared. He suddenly seemed less alone in his fears, and it made them feel a little less overbearing. But there was something else that struck him about what Richie said even more.

I don't ever want to let fear wreck my life, I want to fight it.

He thought back to that night they had sat on his bed and Eddie knew he wanted to fight it, too. He wanted to be happy, too. And most of all, he wanted Richie. Funny, annoying, caring, obnoxious, compassionate, beautiful Richie. So he said the words that came to him quickly, before he could change his mind.

"Th-that thing we almost did. When I slept over. Do..."

No this is scary and wrong and you shouldn't be doing this just stop talking stop talking stop talking stop-

"Do you still want to?"

Even in the dark Eddie could see the surprise in Richie's features. His wide eyes looked huge behind his glasses. His mouth was slightly opened. He seemed to snap out of his shocked state and nodded, pulling his feet up and onto the bridge so he could fully face the other boy. Eddie followed suit, trying to shut out the nagging voice in his head.

If I do this they'll hate me. The kids at school, the people on the streets, my own mother would despise me. She'd say I'm diseased, she'd be so angry, so hurt.

His stress must have shown on his own face, because Richie looked at him full of gentle concern. "Eddie, are you sure you, ya know, want to? We don't have t-"

"I do!" Eddie cut him off, and he did. "I'm just... I'm just scared," he said, the last words barely above a whisper.

"What about?"

"A lot of stuff. What people will think. What my mom would think."

"Well, I don't plan on telling anyone else, and they can't think about what they don't know," Richie replied. "And besides, after the whole hospital act you're a full fledged rebel! Who cares what your stinkin' momma thinks!"

"Richie..." Eddie started, sounding exasperated.

"Honestly though, Eds, unless you're going to tell her, she'll never know."

"Really, you're going to call me that now?"

"Force of habit, honest!" the dark haired boy promised, holding his hands up in an apologetic surrender.

Eddie decided to let the point of his proper name drop there, switching back to the original topic. He looked back to his friend with earnest and frightened eyes. "I'm still scared, Richie. I want to, and it feels... right, you know? But I don't know. I've been hiding it all for so long... and now to just go on and..." His eyes darted back to the writing on the bridge, and it suddenly wasn't funny anymore.

"Hey, don't look at that stuff, look at me," Richie coaxed, tugging lightly at Eddie's hand to bring his eyes back away from the graffiti. "Okay? How about we just start slow," he suggested, meeting Eddie's eyes carefully.

"Slow?" Eddie looked at him questioningly.

Then Richie was grabbing his cast-less hand, and he let him pull it up from his lap. Eddie watched as he lifted his hand up to his lips, pressing them softly to outside of it, just above his knuckles. After a couple of seconds, Richie brought it back down, still holding it in both of his own hands.

"See? Nothing I haven't done before, right?"

Eddie nodded, a hot blush spreading over his cheeks. He hoped that the near-darkness was enough to hide how red he was, after all it was just a kiss on the hand. He shouldn't be blushing this badly. But he also noted that it wasn't a bad blush. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed, he was almost happy. Fluttery. The fear that clutched him seemed to loosen its grip, if only a little.

"Okay, so that was alright," Richie spoke again, bringing Eddie's eyes back to his. "How about this?"

He was then moving his face towards Eddie's, and for a second he thought he was going to go straight for his mouth. But instead, Richie moved upward and placed his lips on Eddie's cheek. They felt warm and smooth against his baby soft skin, but also firm and deliberate. He knew then, more than he had before, that the other boy meant it. He meant every word of encouragement, every look of desire, every hint of love and friendship between them. Eddie felt his fears shrink even more, being replaced with trust and contentment and even a flash of excitement.

When Richie drew back, Eddie was smiling with bright eyes. The spot on his cheek felt colder and a little wet, but he didn't mind. He found that he wanted those lips back, and thought of how they felt safe and reassuring and wonderful. He absentmindedly brought his good hand to touch where Richie had been.

"Your face is really warm. Is Trashmouth Tozier, the Four-Eyed Wonder, making the wonderful Eddie Kaspbrak burn up for him?"

Eddie laughed a little at that, comfortable enough to fire back with the truth. "You just might be, Richie Tozier."

Richie was nearly beaming, and Eddie found himself loving how the expression looked on his friend's face. No mischief, no teasing smirks - which he also enjoyed, though he wouldn't admit it - just pure joy. A sense of euphoria that was contagious in the only sense of the word that Eddie would accept. He looked at Richie and he knew that what he wanted was okay, at least to them. And in that moment, that was all he needed. He wasn't afraid anymore, and he wondered if he'd ever be again. He felt unstoppable.

"Richie, I think I'm ready. To do it for real."

"Me too," Richie said.

He finally let go of Eddie's hand in order to move one of his own up to the smaller boy's cheek. Eddie found himself thinking, absurdly, how weird it was that he wasn't hitting the hand away. He never let Richie touch his cheeks, because usually it meant he was pinching them. He knew that this situation was very, very different, but the thought was still almost enough to make him giggle.

"Okay, I'm going to kiss you now," Richie announced. In a split second of a pause, they both seemed a little amazed. It was the first time either of them had used the word. Kiss. They'd both been skirting around it for what seemed like ages to them. The sound of it seemed to send sparks into the air, like something magical in a little kid's story book.

Before either could think another thought, Richie was moving again, pulling Eddie's face toward his and moving his own face forward. Heads tilted to avoid the bumping of any noses or glasses. Bespectacled eyes fluttered closed and Eddie quickly did the same with his.

Then their lips met, and Eddie thought his lungs might give out it was so wonderful. But they didn't, and he found himself falling into Richie. Into his warmth and comfort, into the softness of his lips, into his sweet taste - candy and cigarettes. The feeling of their mouths together was new and alluring, and Eddie kissed him back. It wasn't perfect or clean, but it was enough to make both of their hearts beam and soar to a place far away from that bridge. Away from Derry and all the people in it who wouldn't approve or who'd stare or gossip or try to stop them. If being out past curfew had felt like freedom, than this felt like liberation beyond compare.

When Richie finally pulled away, a little sound of discontentment escaped Eddie's throat. He immediately clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes huge and face burning. Richie simply smirked and raised an eyebrow, before both of them broke out into laughter.

They scooted towards each other and Eddie leaned his head on Richie's shoulder. The latter wrapped an arm around the former, cautious not to hurt his arm. Eddie noticed that his lips felt funny, and used not his own fingers, but Richie's to poke at them.

"What the hell are you doing with my hand?" Richie asked, sounding more curious than anything.

"My lips feel funny. Tingly. Do yours?"

Richie stared at him for a second, then let out a short laugh. "Yeah, mine do, too. I think that's what normally happens when you're sucking face."

"Eww," Eddie whined, smacking Richie with his own hand. "Don't say it like that, that makes it sound gross."

"I think you have to do something with your tongue for it to count as sucking face anyways," Richie said with a shrug.

Eddie wrinkled his nose. "I think it was nicer without any tongues."

"Yeah, it was nice."

Eddie thought for a second before speaking again. "It finally feels like we won."

"What do you mean?" Richie asked, glancing down at him.

Eddie thought about how to answer, then tried to explain. "I mean, we defeated It, but it didn't feel like we did. We got back out of the sewers and everything felt normal. There was no dramatic music playing like for all the heroes in the movies. No one clapped or cheered. It was a victory, but it didn't really feel like one." He stopped and seemed to think to himself again for a moment. "Now it finally does."

When Richie finally spoke, it was in the Voice of some sports announcer. "Aaaaand after a long, city-wide wait, the Losers finally emerge from the sewers! Our heroes who saved the day, arriving covered in shit and God knows what else! Give them a round of applause folks!"

"Beep beep, you big dummy," Eddie giggled. "You know what I mean."

"Nah, I get what you're saying. It really does finally feel real, doesn't it?"

Eddie nodded with a small grin and Richie held his hand a little tighter. They remained sitting on the bridge like that for as long as they dared. Just two boys with their whole lives ahead of them, hoping to spend as much of it as possible with each other.