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The group watches as the two most chaotic members of their group argue.
“Richie get out, I’m tired of this!” Eddie talks with his hands, waving them around like a maniac.
“That’s not what your mom said last n-”
“Shut the hell up,” The smaller boy sighs.
He notices the one and only boy in glasses slowly getting up and stalking towards him, something in his hand.
“Oh fuck off-” The blob in his hand becomes recognizable as a small, fat spider. “-Really? A spider?!”
“Hell yeah! Come here Eds,” Richie holds out his arms and begins to chase the other.
“Don’t call me that!”
The two boys run each other out of the clubhouse like morons while their friends watch.
“Those two h-have the weirdest fu-f-fucking friendship ever.”
“Yeah, but it works for them,” The red-head, Bev, adds.
—
“For fucks sake. Eds, I lost my glasses. Come back! I can’t fucking see!” He shouts.
“Like I’m falling for that dipshit!” The other calls back.
So this is how I die, blinded and stuck with this idiot.
“I LITERALLY CAN’T SEE JACK SHIT, EDDIE!” Richie shrieks hysterically, squawking about like a chicken.
The other sternly warns him, “If you shove that fucking spider down my shirt, I will kill you.”
Eddie finds his way back to Richie, immediately seeing the other’s glasses near a tree root.
“Got them. Did you trip or something?-” His face lights up with concern, “Did you hurt yourself?”
Richie deadpans, “No. My glasses walked off my face ‘cause they wanted to explore, yes I fell!”
This only makes Eddie huff and cross his arms, “Serves you right for the spider bull shit.”
“Oh come on Eddie Spaghetti, you loved it!”
He grins, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Did not. Are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself?” His face reddens as he frowns, “And don’t call me that!”
“Yes, now…”
Wiping his hands on his shorts, a smirk tugs at his lips before he yells, “FIRST ONE BACK TO THE CLUBHOUSE GETS THE HAMMOCK!”
Eddie gawks, “HEY NOT FAIR ASSHOLE YOU’RE FASTER!”
The two begin to dash back to the clubhouse, Eddie falling slightly behind Richie.
“BETTER GET MOVING THEN EDS!”
—
Richie beats Eddie by a solid 5 seconds. They both laugh and collapse on the ground.
The hatch is suddenly opened and they both get squashed.
“Guess you two are done screwing around.” Beverly states.
“Bev you’re going to break my damn ribs!” Eddie whines, flailing.
Her expression reads ‘Oh my fucking god,’ “Oh sorry let me help you with that.”
She sits on the board further, crushing the two underneath.
Richie fixes his glasses, “Very good one darling,” He states in a British accent. “I’m sure we can survive on Eddie’s fanny packs alone anyway.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, “Shut up Richie.” He pauses. “Bev move.”
“Hurry up and get inside or you’ll miss the planning process, “ She huffs, “And we aren’t going to wait for you lil’ shits.”
With that, she slides off the board, dropping back into the clubhouse.
“The hell did they plan without us?” Richie states while shoving the hatch off him and standing up.
Eddie copies the motion, “No clue, we’ll have to find out.”
They both slide inside and see the other losers gathered around-
“I GET THE HAMMOCK!” The two scream in unison. Both of them glare at each other, “No! I get it!” They frown in unison too.
They both clamber into the hammock and end up sitting head to foot.
“Fuck- Eddie, I won the race!” Richie screeches.
The other barks, “Screw you asshole, I never agreed to that!”
“Alright both of you s-shut up, we’re trying to discuss s-su-something for tonight!” Bill exclaims, tired of the two’s arguing.
“As Bill was saying,” Ben chimes in, “we were thinking of hanging out at the quarry tomorrow, then head to Bill’s for a sleepover to kick off our summer.”
“That’s it? I thought you guys were planning on banging babes without me!” Richie sighs in relief.
Stan smacks him in the arm, “Shut up trashmouth.”
“Are we really going to play in the dirty water? Do you know how much bacteria is in there!? Not to mention all the chemicals and dirt that are building up in the water particles! And don’t get me started-”
Bill interrupts, “We get it, Eddie. It’s a fu-f-few hours, we won’t die.”
Eddie grumbles in protest but agrees.
“Now that we’ve got Mr. worrywart on our side nothing is stopping us!” Richie cackles, “We’ll be stopping staph infections, one at a time!”
“Very funny Richie, but you do know that staph infections are actually really serious-”
“Exactly,” He winks.
Eddie feels his breath hitch in his throat. He gulps, darting his eyes to the side.
Thump. Thump. Thump. A small drop of sweat builds up on his face as he waves him off.
What the fuck. Come on Eds, calm down.
“So that settles it! Let’s meet at the quarry around 10?” Mike suggests.
A series of nods follow and the losers climb out of the clubhouse to head home.
—
Eddie and Stan trot down the street towards the quarry.
“Hey, Stan? Is… What do you think of, well.. Guys dating guys?” He laughs nervously afterward, eyes skuttering towards the bumpy road.
“Well anyone can do as they please, it doesn’t bother me.”
He swallows, “Okay… Cool, I guess.”
“Why’d you wanna know?”
Frick.
Clearing his throat, he lies, “No reason.”
“Uhuh.”
Silence. Delicious, sharp, and intoxicating awkward silence. Not to mention the lovely way it clogs up your lungs like that of thick molasses.
He takes a deep breath and mutters, “I… think I like Richie.”
“What did you say?” His eyes focus on the ground, yet his voice seems to cut straight through Eddie.
“R-R-R… RALPH!” He pauses.
How the fuck. What the fuck. What did I just say...
Eddie stops walking, choosing to awkwardly look at his feet in mild shame.
The taller’s hand lands on his shoulder, “It’s okay, I know.”
He.. knows? But if he does... Bill… Ben… Mike... Bev… Richie? No.. no… no.nonononononono… Richie couldn’t possibly know, right? He doesn’t know right? Please dear gazebos in the sky, he can’t know.
“Y-You... “ He inhales and exhales, both sharp and nervous, “You know? But... Does that mean-”
“To put it lightly, I’m pretty sure everyone else is too dense to notice,” Stan’s mouth twitches up subtly into a small smile, full of encouragement.
Okay, so Richie... I’m fine. I haven’t lost that friendship yet. He still likes me. Or well. As a friend.
They continue walking in peaceful silence this time until they reach the flaky, wooden Kissing Bridge. Full of carvings and plausibly layers of semen or other bacteria. He chooses to not think about that possibility though, makes him sick. Literally.
Stan laughs, “Hey look where we are, how about some cheesy declaration of love onto this disgusting bridge?”
Eddie hums, “Maybe we could carve in our initials or possibly some sort of hope or dream for the future instead? I mean, this is our last summer...”
The two mutually agree on that thought and Stan takes out a pocket knife, while Eddie unzips his fanny pack to grab his keys.
Both go to find a good spot to carve. Eddie squats down, making sure his skin doesn’t touch the surroundings.
I can’t risk getting cancer or poisoned from this place.
He first carves some hopes for the future, maybe some advice on how to prevent world war three or a new disease, who knows. Then he glances over and sees Stan still carving and decides to carve one last thing.
What should I carve… hmm...
Thinking, he looks back at the wood and realizes he’s carved an R.
Oh my god. I’m seriously diseased. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d give me a staph infection. I’m going ill. Jesus on a pixie stick.
Gulping, Eddie gazes around and readily carves a heart around the R before bolting into a standing pose and zipping away towards Stan.
Ignore, ignore, I made nothing, absolutely shit. Not evidence of illness. No proof it was me. No one will know. He’s just cute, his glasses are stupid. I don’t like his hair. Why is it so messy. It’s too cute and I-
Holy shit.
Eddie stops and glares daggers at something carved into the wood.
But- No way, pfft I’m stupid. Damn, I’m so ill, I can’t actually believe that could ever be what I think it is...
He sighs, biting his lip and curtly looking back at the ‘R+E’ carved into the wood.
Thump. Thump. Thump. He gulps, feeling suddenly sick. Did his skin touch the wood? Did he take his pills this morning? What… Why… Why does his chest ache? He doesn’t like it. It’s just two letters. It could be anything. He’s just paranoid. He can’t afford to be ‘hopeful.’ Richie is smart enough to know that Eddie’s sickness isn’t worth it.
No wonder his mom continuously gives him pills and worries about his health. She knows just how sick he is.
Swallowing the bile rising through his throat, he slumps over to Stan, who is now done with carving… a bird.
So I was the idiot one who did… a second carving.
Stan glances at him and smiles, “What did you carve?”
Pause. Pause. Silence. Awkwardness. He averts eye contact and cackles out a “Disease and Safety and YEAH LET’S GET GOING TO THE QUARRY NOW!”
He grabs Stan’s wrist and begins speed-walking towards the meeting spot.
The two arrive to see that they are the last ones to arrive.
“Took you long enough! I know Eddie’s mom is great but come on Stan, stealing my woman-”
Eddie smacks his arm.
Stop, don’t apologize. He deserved it. Definitely deserved it.
“Shut up.”
Bill waves, “H-Hey guys.”
Bev stands near the edge, clearly ready to jump, “See you at the bottom losers!”
She walks off the edge, arms flailing as usually, landing at the bottom with a ‘plop’.
This cues everyone to jump in, one idiot at a time. Except, as it reaches Eddie’s turn. He freezes.
I feel sick. I am, I suppose, but I just… I can’t. Everything is hurting….
The water blurs, all his friends below becoming a blob of blue. He blinks.
Gulping, he realizes Richie is waiting behind him.
Fuck, I’m…
He takes a shaky breath and jumps, terror filling him as he lands in the water a tad painfully.
Crap.
There’s another splash as the last person enters the water, Richie. Eddie watches as his dark hair glistens and his eyes and…
Stop thinking, I’m allergic.
He holds his breath and dives down, letting the water fill his ears so all the sounds and people above can fade away. The lake surrounds him as his heart stings. Thum, thum, thum… The layers of blue dance beside him, it’s cold arms snaking around his small body.
Then the ache of his lungs screams for air and he breaks out of the deep embrace and rises to the surface to gasp for air.
Bev and Ben talk idly while Richie has an outburst on crack to Mike and Stan. Bill watches his friends thrive.
Head barely above the surface, only high enough for him to breath through his nose, he slinks to the side, away from the current of his own friends. He feels out of place. What if Stan is wrong? What if they know.. What if they don’t like him? What if they are scared of the bacteria running through his heart?
What if Richie doesn’t like me…?
Eddie frowns, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to shove away the thought.
No. I’m fine. They wouldn’t talk to me if they hated me. They don’t know. I’m fine. I’m still here. The disease hasn’t won yet. My immune system is still fighting. It’s still got a chance. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.
He decides to watch Richie. From a distance of course. Just watch his expressions and his eyes. He likes Richie’s expressions. They’re nice.
—
The losers are now securely wrapped in towels. Chit-chat bubbles around while they aimlessly wait to dry off enough to change and head to Bill’s.
Oh my fuck.
Richie tries not to wheeze as Eddie laughs loosely at something Bev says.
Hold it in Tozier, you might be a stupid faggot, but that emotion is supposed to be drained somewhere along with the rest of derry’s greywater, so stop.
Except, that kind of thing is nearly impossible when stupid Eddie has the nerve to have stupid freckles and a stupid smile and a stupid face. He sucks. Utterly sucks.
Bev pokes him with her foot, mouthing, ‘What’s up?’
Damn Bev. You really know how to whack a person.
He rubs his shoulder slightly and narrows his eyes in thought before mouthing, ‘Eddie.’
Her eyes light up knowingly and she clears her throat, “Richie where the hell are your glasses?”
It takes a moment, but he coughs and motions away, “Think I forgot them while we were getting out.”
“Geez. C’mon, we’ll be back in a moment guys.”
The two make their way across some of the tall grasses until they’re out of earshot.
Bev deadpans, “Explain.”
“Bev it’s getting worse, I think I’m falling further down the hole, no not that kind of hole for once- I- I’m… scared Bev.”
He just wishes these shitty feelings would stop. They’re like a sapling, no matter what he does it keeps growing and growing out of control. Why does his heart leap so much towards Eddie? Why him?
She sighs, “Richie it isn’t bad… or wrong to feel how you feel. You know all the losers won’t change how they think of you, you’ll always have us. Yes, there will be people like Bowers probably for the rest of our lifetime, but it’ll be fine. We have each other, and losers stick together, right? Don’t push your feelings down like I know you’ve been doing-”
Richie raises two fingers and opens his mouth to speak but-
“No. Don’t argue. I know you do.” Bev speaks before he has the chance to interrupt her. “Rich just think about it okay? I know he cares about you as much as you care about him.”
But why would someone so stunning like a trashmouth like me…?
“Yeah, alright Bev.”
With a pat on the back the two head back over to the group. They return to see Bill, Mike, and Ben beginning to pack everything up. Soon they will be heading to Bills.
“Wow we leave for two seconds and you guys are planning a getaway.”
“How about you h-hu-help us get everything so we can leave f-faster.”
Richie shrugs and joins the others in gathering their shit.
—
The group arrives at Bill’s and each person files inside.
Richie takes a seat on the ground. Bev, Ben, and Mike take the couch, while Stan and Bill sit down in the bean bag chair. Eddie scans the space and sighs, falling down to sit beside Richie.
“W-What do you g-guys want to d-do?”
“Is your house still stocked up on snacks? We could watch movies and eat our guts out!” Richie quipped.
“Yeah we have popcorn and s-su-some candy I think. Is everyone fi-fine with m-movie binge-ing?”
A series of ‘yes’ and ‘yeah’ in agreement filter through the room so Bill goes to the kitchen to find the food.
Bill returns with 3 bowls of popcorn, some sour patch kids, and a random assortment of chocolate.
“Alright, I’m distributing the b-bowls based on h-hu-how we’re sitting. I’ll share with Stan.”
Eddie can see a faint pink grow on Bill’s face but doesn’t question it.
“Yu-you three on the couch can s-sh-share, and Richie and Eddie will share.”
Oh jeez.
“And I’m assuming Stan is going to steal the sour patches again?” Bev grins.
Stan, already grabbing the bag, responds, “Hey my dad never lets me have them!”
“Alright, alright, as long as I get a red one it’s fine.”
He chucks one at her and she catches it in her mouth with a grin.
“We can all grab what w-we want f-fu-from the pile whenever. Now candy aside, w-wu-what movie are we w-watching?” Bill stutters out.
Ben and Mike suggest Harry Potter, Bev suggests Batman, but Richie waves them all down.
“No no, we should watch It Follows,” Richie smirks.
Eddie frowns, “What’s that?”
Sounds… What is it supposed to be about?
Bev grins, “OH IT FOLLOWS? Yeah, that movie looked epic, we should watch it.”
Bill agrees since Bev said so, and Ben agrees as well. That makes a majority vote.
Once the movie is displayed across the screen, they begin.
Five minutes in, and something feels off.
Eddie has a bad, extremely horrible feeling about this movie. He gulps and whispers to Richie, “Is this a horror movie?”
“What? Don’t trust me Eds? You wound me!” He feigns hurt.
“Shut the fuck up is it or not?” He whisper shouts.
“Dunno you’ll have to wait and see,” he smirks.
Oh fucking- it’s a horror movie, isn’t it.
Then the girl is suddenly dead. Or well, broken entirely. Her knee is bent in a way it should never be bent.
He bites his lip to prevent him from showing how horrified he is.
That’s nasty.
Richie snickers, “Looks like someone skipped leg day.”
Despite how disturbed he is, Eddie giggles, “Oh my god.”
The movie continues, with more creepiness. By the halfway mark, he’s hugging his knees.
Why the fuck- that’s gross. So so gross. This background noise is so eerie.
He feels Richie scoot closer.
FOR FUCKS SAKE I DON’T NEED THIS-
Thump. Thump. He gulps and eyes Richie’s hand, which is extremely close.
Stop thinking, stop it, he doesn’t like you, you’re just sick, it’ll be fine...
Richie looks over and catches his eyes.
“You good spaghetti?” he questions.
Eddie feels his eyes widen and whips his head back to the screen, “Fine, fine.”
A few minutes pass before Richie scoots a bit closer and now he is touching shoulders with Eddie.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Oh god.
“I could probably kill that bitch with a rock, too easy.”
Eddie jolts and accidentally bumps Richie.
Thump. Thump.
He’s so close.
“Mhm..”
“Now shush and watch the movie,” He commands jokingly.
Eddie frowns, “You spoke first!”
“No clue what you’re talking about Eds.”
Eddie sighs while Richie laughs.
—
The movie ends, Richie and Eddie staying close the entire time.
Bev claps her hands, “We should play truth or dare!”
Richie shrugs as response and reaches for some popcorn. Eddie’s hand reaches for popcorn too and a spark of electricity enters him.
I- His hand- His hand- His hand touched my hand-
Eddie grabs a handful of popcorn and sits back, while Richie stays frozen.
Ben and Stan say they should play something else while Richie agrees to the idea.
“I don’t really like Truth or Dare… what about we play Mario kart or something?” Eddie comments.
“But Eds that’s no fun!” he makes sure to drag out the ‘Eds.’
Eddie grumbles, “Don’t call me that.”
Bev cheers, “C’mon, it’d be fun! We could joke around and laugh!”
Bill nods, “Okay sure.”
Mike is the final decider. He scrunches up his face in thought and then shrugs, “I guess so.”
“YES!” Richie screams.
Eddie, Stan, and Ben frown.
“Awesome! I’ll take the first round… Bill truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he says blankly.
Bev grins, “Have you ever peed your pants at school?”
Richie snorts as Bill answers, “M-muh-maybe in Kindergarten or s-something, m-my memory is too h-ha-hazy to think of any specific times.”
Bill finishes and his eyes land on Ben, “Ben t-truth or dare?”
The game continues from there with Ben licking the floor, Stan speaking bad Spanish, and Richie talking in detail about a time where he broke a game at the arcade.
Richie claps his hands, “Alright Big Bill, truth or dare?”
“T-Truth.”
“Gonna stay a pussy I see, no matter! Hmm… Bill, is that stutter real?”
Everyone deadpans to Richie.
“Richie you dip s-shit why would I f-fu-fake this annoying sh-shit?” Bill points out.
Richie shrugs, “I had a theory. Doesn’t matter it’s your turn Billiam.”
Bill grins, “Hmm, Richie truth or dare.”
“Dare obviously.”
“I dare you to throw your glasses at s-someone in this room.”
What the fuck.
He tries not to eye Eddie, but takes off his glasses and takes a deep breath before chucking the glasses at Eddie.
“Ow!”
Eddie rubs his nose and stares at the glasses. He picks them up and throws them back at Richie.
Bev smirks, “Oo oo- Richie truth or dare?”
“Hey, it’s not your turn!”
Stan shushes him, “Bev gets a go, just let her have her fun.”
“Fine. Dare.”
Her grin widens, “I dare you to hug your favorite person in this room. It has to be your absolute favorite human being in this room.”
Richie immediately smirks and hugs himself.
Bev throws a sour patch kid at him.
Stan shouts, “HEY!”
“Oh, you didn’t mean- I see, I see.”
He hesitantly turns, not wanting to back out of the dare, and wraps his arms around Eddie.
Eddie freezes before melting into the hug.
Oh my god. MOM ARE YOU PROUD!? Bev’s probably proud. I’m hugging Eddie. EDDIE!
The other hugs him back, letting his head fall into the crook of Richie’s neck for a moment before he jolts out of the hug.
“Um, anyways... Richie it’s your turn,” Eddie looks at the ground awkwardly.
Darn, the warmth is gone.
Bev gives him a knowing glance before focusing back on the group.
“Uh, Stan the man why are you addicted to kids?”
“Richie this is truth or dare not twenty questions!”
Everyone laughs subtly and they continue on for a while longer.
Eventually, the losers get tired and everyone hits the hay.
—
Eddie hears noises. It’s quiet, not super overwhelming, yet it wakes him up.
He yawns quietly and gets up. The noise is coming from the kitchen.
Is there an intruder?
He unzips his fanny pack and takes out a bottle of gazebos. Maybe he can throw them at the intruder.
Eddie tiptoes into the kitchen and sees a body. He chucks the pills at the figure.
“Gah! What the fuck dude?”
His eyes focus and he recognizes the coke bottle glasses and stupid cute hair cut.
“Rich why the shit are you up so late?”
He speaks dramatically, “I wanted to quench my thirst and didn't expect to be attacked by a tiny man with a bottle?”
Oh. Wait-
“TINY?!” He whisper shouts, “I am 5’4 and a half mind you! I get that I accidentally attacked you, but how dare you!”
“You have to look up to see my face Eds!”
“That’s because you’re a giant!” He whines.
Richie snorts and rolls his eyes, “Mhm, definitely.”
Oh this cute, I mean ugly bastard-
“Don’t patronize me!”
He sighs, “Yeah, yeah. Can I get my water and go back to sleep now?”
Eddie pouts, but shrugs. Richie leans down and grabs the pill bottle before handing it to Eddie. He then begins to pour himself a glass of water.
Ngh...
Speaking his thoughts before he can stop them, “Am I really your favorite person? Well.. out of the losers?”
With a yawn, Richie answers, “Obviously Eddie Spaghetti. They’re all great but none of them compare to you.”
But...
Thump. Thump. He stares at the floor, “But I’m- I’m ill?”
“Please Eds, they’re ‘gazebos’ remember? There’s nothing wrong with you,” he sips his water.
Not that...
He gulps, “Not the gazebos.. Me, I’m- I’m ill. I’m sick and gross.”
“How?”
“I..”
If I tell him he won’t be my friend anymore…He’ll be disgusted..
“I..”
Just say it. He should know the truth.
“I like you.”
Richie’s water glass nearly drops, “Holy shit…”
“In.. not a friend way, I know I’m disgusting and I shouldn’t have told you and I-”
“Eddie.”
“I just- I didn’t want to lie, and I know you must hate me or something and-“
“Eddie…” the other repeats.
Said boy grasps his hair, “I just- I’m- I didn’t mean to be ill- All of a sudden recently though, everything you do- I’m sorry- I-“
“Can I… Eddie can I kiss you?”
What.
He stops talking. His eyes are wide and staring at Richie.
“K-Kiss, but I’m ill and- Why would you want to kiss me?” Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion.
I don’t get it.
“Eddie I’ve liked you for so long I never thought you could like me back…”
Thump. Thump.
“You- but- I don’t- What?” Eddie gulps, suddenly very aware of the other’s presence. None of this makes sense, why isn’t Richie disgusted?
“You aren’t messing with me, right? This isn’t payback for all the mom jokes I’ve made?” Richie’s face drops and his eyes grow hurt.
Eddie waves his hands around, “No no- I’m actually ill, why would I ever joke about health? I just- you don’t think I’m gross?”
“Eddie you aren’t fucking ill. You’re not gross- just- can you answer my question?”
He nods, “I actually like you, I swear.”
“I meant the kiss me part, but that's spectacular too,” Richie chuckles.
“Oh. Oh. Um right- yeah, okay, just I don’t know if I’m very good at it and..” he laughs nervously.
“Fine by me.”
Richie crosses the short distance between them and cups one hand to Eddie’s cheek with the other resting on his waist.
“Last chance to back out Kaspbrak.”
“I’m okay with this Tozier,” he smiles.
Richie leans down and connects his lips to Eddie’s, they both feel a wave of relief and happiness wash over them. Butterflies blossom in his stomach, dancing, and fluttering.
Eddie manages to come to his senses enough to snake his arms around Richie’s neck.
The two break apart, but their faces are still close. Richie smiles like a massive dope, while Eddie isn’t any better with his massive grin.
“Guess I’m catching whatever you have Eds.”
He snorts, “Don’t call me that,” Though he barely means it.
“Okay I know we just confessed our hidden love for each other, but I’m still fucking tired and would like to go back to the sleeping bags.”
Eddie yawns in approval, causing Richie to yawn as the two make their way back to their sleeping bags. As they settle inside, they grasp each other’s hands, their fingers slotting together perfectly.
Though, they’ll never admit it to anyone else.
“Damn Bev was right.”
“About what?”
“Our gay forbidden romance waiting to happen,” he smirks.
Gay forbidd-
Snorting, he whispers, “Bev’s always right and- I feel like that title is overdramatic.”
“I think it’s perfect.”
Without hesitation, Eddie moves to remove Richie’s glasses with his free hand and set them aside.
“Night trashmouth.”
“G’night Eds.”
With that, the two fall asleep.
Hand in hand.
—
And yes the losers totally freak out in the morning and take way too many pictures of their trashmouth and hypochondriac cuddling.