Work Text:
Despite growing up side by side, Richie has never gotten completely used to Eddie Kaspbrak.
It was this strange mix of familiarity and something else all together. Richie was positive he’d never felt it for anyone but the younger boy, like looking up at the stars and realizing just how big the universe was.
Or some sappy shit like that.
It’s ridiculous, he thinks, taking a small sip of the peach schnapps they’d snuck into Eddie’s room. He wrinkles his nose. He hates peaches, but this was the only stuff that didn’t make Eddie gag, and Richie would be damned if he didn’t find someway to spice up their nights.
“I can think of something else that’d spice up our nights” he thinks to himself, almost proud of the thought, filing it away for another time.
It’s no secret that Richie Tozier likes boys. Or anything with a heartbeat and mostly human DNA really. He’s had his share of small flings, but none of them really spanned out to much. Perhaps it was how often Richie’s thoughts would drift off to a short brunette when kissing, or how most didn’t really appreciate his seemingly endless reserve of “your mom” jokes.
Maybe it was Richie knowing that no one would ever compare to a certain Kaspbrak.
Now, Eddie has grabbed ahold of the nearest microphone like object (a badly beaten up banana) and is dancing around the room, singing along to Chocolate by the 1975. It’s not really classified as dancing. He’s more just flailing his arms and bouncing to the beat, making the weirdest expressions as he mouths the words.
“He’s such a lightweight” Richie thinks, taking another sip from the bottle.“Although that’s not a surprise, how tiny he is.” The alcohol is finally starting to hit him, everything taking on more of a shiny quality. And the brightest thing in the room is the dork now wailing to David Bowie’s Heroes.
Seriously what the fuck was this playlist.
Richie considers the scene before him, giggling a little, feeling all the shit in his life slowly slipping away, if only for a few hours. Right now it’s just him, the most jarring playlist he’s ever put together, and the beautiful boy swaying back and forth in front of him.
And we could be heroes. Just for one day.
He’ll tell him soon, he thinks. Soon, before Eddie hits seventeen, soon, before their classmates begin to realize just how cute Eddie is.
For now he’s content to let the song fade out, and study the freckled flush in his best friend’s cheeks.