Chapter Text
The Losers Club had many traditions, and as they grew older, more and more were added. What started as habits became unspoken promises between them that were both essential and assumed by all 7 of them. From the inaugural first day of Summer being spent at the Quarry, to meeting for breakfast before their first day back at school.
There was one tradition, when enacted upon for the final time, that changed everything.
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The Losers were ringing in the New Year as they always did, in their clubhouse. This year was different as they’d challenged each other to swipe a bottle of booze from their respective parents for an extra special celebration. Eddie had reluctantly agreed, hoping he’d be able to find something that wouldn’t be missed by the watchful eye of his mother. He hit the jackpot when he found a dusty, forgotten bottle of sherry that was hidden at the back of a cupboard. The rest of the group had managed to collate a variety of different bottles, some half full, some not yet opened.
“Nice going guys! We have a respectable little bar going here!” Richie beamed as he flipped a plastic cup in the air, catching it expertly. “What’s your poison?” he asked Eddie, leaning on the makeshift bar looking a little too much like a seasoned bartender.
“Uhhh I dunno, something sweet?” Eddie replied, he’d drunk alcohol before but only beer. He wasn’t a fan of the bitter taste that everyone seemed to love so much, but he was feeling the buzz of excitement in the air and was keen to join in.
“Naturally” Richie winked and began mixing various different spirits - he was moving so quickly Eddie could barely work out what he was adding. A splash of rum - provided by Ben, a tipple of the gin Stan brought and a generous drop of Bev’s tequila. It was when he went to add a shot of the cheap vodka Richie himself had contributed, that Eddie intervened.
“Whoa Rich are you trying to kill me? How strong is that?! I said SWEET” Eddie began to rant, Richie grinned and winked again “Trust me, Eds”. Eddie looked unamused but his curiosity and the fact that he truly did trust his friend kept him from protesting further. Richie topped off the potion with a can of Diet Coke, carefully tilting the cup as he poured to prevent it from fizzing over. He grabbed a straw and placed it in the drink with a flourish before holding it out to Eddie.
Eddie hesitantly took the cup from him and placed his lips around the straw. He took a sip, expecting the bitter flavours of the spirits to burn his tongue, to his surprise he could barely taste any alcohol at all and the sweet flavours coated his taste buds as he swallowed.
“H-how did you do that? There must be so much booze in this but I can barely taste it” Eddie asked dumbfounded, eagerly taking another sip.
“Easy there Spaghetti - there is! I just know you don’t like the strong stuff much so I made you an Eds-friendly cocktail” Richie’s eyes didn’t completely meet Eddie’s as he said this, and he kept his hands busy by fixing himself a drink.
Eddie didn’t recall ever sharing this fact with his friend, and became conscious that he was too easy to read. If his friends could figure out details like his preference in beverage without him telling them, what else had they deciphered? He had always had very little control over his face when emotions surfaced, he could put a mask on or paper a smile on his lips when required, but it took concentration. If he was caught off guard or forgot himself, his face disobeyed him and told the world how he really felt in that moment. Eddie was eased out of his reverie by Richie still jabbering on as he worked. “I’m limiting you to two so make the most of it, they’re stronger than you realise and I don’t want you getting too out of it”
Eddie rolled his eyes at this. It wasn’t unusual for Richie to says stuff like this to him. Richie was by far the most irresponsible of the Losers, at times even reckless, but when it came to Eddie he was different. He was cautious, protective and caring in ways he never was when it came to his own wellbeing.
“Whatever Trashmouth, you’re just worried that after a few drinks I’ll be the life of the party and steal all of the attention away from you"
“Eds you wound me” Richie feigned offence by taking in a shocked gasp and placing his hand on his chest “I’ve gotta see this party-animal Spaghetti you’ve got hidden in there, you’ve been holding out on us”. His eyes shone with impish pleasure as they always did when he was teasing his best friend. His expression changed as he seemed to realise something, as though a penny had finally dropped. Eddie was quick to notice and said “What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, concern coating his newly broken voice.
“Did no one notice?” Richie said calmly, and at this he had the rest of the Loser’s attention.
“What?” Ben chimed in, looking around the clubhouse cautiously expecting something to be out of place. Bill’s stance had changed instinctively to defensive at the change in tension in the room.
Richie backed slowly away from the bar, his friend’s bodies turning to watch him as he did so, increasingly on edge at this shift in behaviour.
Richie suddenly broke into his biggest shit-eating grin and leapt back into the vacant hammock “That you guys were so focused on getting shitfaced no one called the best spot in the clubhouse!”
The collective groan from his friends fueled Richie as much as their protests of “Fucking Trashmouth” and “You asshole, you had me worried” did. He sat triumphantly swinging in his sneakily conquered throne. He turned his face to Eddie, who was still sipping his new favourite drink and smiling smugly, “What are you so happy about Eds? You don’t think I’m gonna share do you?”
“Oh I think you might consider making space for me” Eddie laughed. He picked up Richie’s abandoned cup from the bar, gently shaking it in his direction, “You forgot something”.
“Fuuuuuck” Richie cursed, but with very little persuasion he made a small amount of room on the hammock and tapped the fabric, inviting him to join him “Fine, but bring supplies with you as I don’t plan on moving until next year.”
Eddie scoffed at the awful New Years Eve joke, but obliged. Ignoring the beer that Bill had brought and he grabbed the whisky Mike had stolen from his dad and a couple more cans of Diet Coke. He placed them on the floor, within easy reach of Richie and started to gently lower himself into the other side of the hammock.
“There’s no graceful way to get in a hammock Eds”, Richie teased and pulled his friend into place, causing the fabric to swing steadily. Eddie blushed and adjusted his position carefully before gently swiping his socked foot into Richie's face. "Asshole" Eddie mumbled, but he leaned back, feeling content with the softly swinging motion, the warmth from his friend beside him and the excitement of possibility rippling through his body.
He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, or the anticipation that always filled the air this time of year, but he was hopeful that maybe this year, for the first time, he may receive a kiss at midnight.