Chapter Text
It was when Richie was just three years old that Went and Maggie realized him being a werewolf was going to be a problem.
Not for any malicious reasons, of course. Hell, even the fact he was one in the first place didn't bother them in the slightest--Obviously, since they were each werewolves themselves. Rather, they realized it was going to be a problem because Richie was, well, Richie.
They loved that boy to pieces, but that child did not know an ounce of subtlety.
Werewolves were not savages or mindless beasts like many stories portrayed them to be. Werewolves existed, albeit secretly, among humans just fine. Once they turned about fifteen, they'd be able to fully change into a werewolf under a full moon. And, when they did, they'd be able to control it--whenever they wanted to change into or change out of being a werewolf, they'd be able to do it just fine. The only exception was the nights of the full moon; they went full-wolf whether they wanted to or not.
Regardless, It was easy staying hidden among people. For adult werewolves, anyway.
Young werewolves need guidance. Most of them, including Richie, can partially shift--just a few moments of pointed teeth, claws, ears, tail--sometimes only a few of things at once, sometimes all of them. But never fully shifted to their werewolf state. Though even partial shifting for just a few moments would be detrimental if seen by somebody else.
And Richie had to be one of the worst.
He had no control over his partial shifting. He'd see something he got excited about in public and suddenly he'd have little curious ears poking out of his head. Or he'd have a particularly strong sneeze that resulted in pointed teeth and a tail. And every time, it was all Went could do to throw his jacket over Richie before anyone saw him.
Needless to say, Richie took some serious teaching.
Thankfully, despite how he acted most of the time, Richie wasn't stupid. He learned quick. He kept all the wolf-aspects of himself within the walls of the house; he even taught himself how to mostly control his partial shifting by the time he was only seven.
By the time he was fifteen, he was in complete control.
All he had to learn to do next was fully shift, and learn to control that.
Richie was careful--the first full shift could happen any full moon after a werewolf turned fifteen. He kept track of the moon cycles, he planned them out. He even used a calendar for once in his life so he could mark the days he couldn't hang out with Eddie and the others, just to be safe. He'd come up with some bullshit excuse, and his parents always went along with it.
So for every full moon for the entire year he was fifteen, he stayed home.
Then he did the same thing the entire year he was sixteen.
By the time he was nearing eighteen, he was starting to lose faith.
Another full moon was coming, but Richie wasn't holding his breath this time.
"I don't think I'm ever going to change." he said at dinner that night--he supposed he wasn't particularly upset or pleased either way. It weirdly felt like he was missing out on something, but at the same time, didn't he really want to have to deal with that? He was already so different.
"It'll happen," his mom assured. "You're just taking a little bit longer than normal, there's nothing wrong with that."
"What if it doesn't?" Richie asked, glancing at her. "Does it really matter?"
"I guess it doesn't," she said, glancing at Went.
"Just worry about being you. It'll either happen or it won't, it doesn't matter." he said sincerely. a small smile on his face. "Now shut up and eat."
Richie laughed, but gladly did as he was told.
Most nights, Richie sat at his window, just staring up at the moon. Waiting.
Every second would crawl by slower than it should, and Richie would try to convince himself that he felt something changing. But every time, he'd just sit there until the sun came up before he finally let himself accept that it just wasn't happening.
He was always left with an odd feeling; almost like sadness, but maybe closer to disappointment. He already wasn't human--which, granted, was pretty cool--but then he also wasn't even a normal wolf apparently. He felt lost somewhere in the middle.
But tonight, it didn't bother him.
He grabbed his notebook where he had all the moon cycles for the entire year mapped out. He had spent hours at the library reading and writing to get these all down. He just smiled at the little book before tossing it in the trashcan next to his bed.
He was done with that. He was done waiting and worrying. He was done making up excuses to not see his friends or Eddie. He was simply at ease.
He had almost drifted to sleep when the clouds parted, and the light of the full moon filled his room like a tidal wave. He groaned against liquid silver--for once in his life he was going to get some sleep at night, and the moon was still determined not to let him do that.
Lazily, he rolled out of bed and went to tug the curtains closed. He almost didn't notice his nails extending.
"Oh you must be kidding," he muttered, looking at his hands somewhat frantically; the nails were definitely growing, coming to a point.
Maybe Richie could've talked himself out of that one; could've lied to himself and told him it was just a partial shift, he was just tired. Maybe the moon was playing tricks on him. But then he noticed the fur growing on the back of his hands. That had definitely never happened before.
Quickly, he tugged his shirt off as he rushed to his mirror. The fur was spreading across his chest, his shoulders, his arms. He even kicked off the rest of his clothes to check; as if there were a chance the fur wasn't growing everywhere.
"How typical," he muttered. "Right when I've given up, huh?"
At least the process wasn't too bad. He had expected it to be worse, but while it still was out of his control, it was pretty mild. His parents always said it wasn't dramatic like the movies, and they apparently seriously meant it.
The process wasn't long either; it only took maybe a minute at most.
Before he knew it, he was fully shifted. He wasn't as big as he had expected--he'd seen his parents in their wolf forms a few times, and they weren't that big either, but he was just the size of a slightly above average big ass dog. His fur was dark like his hair; thick and curly like it too.
Very curly, actually. Too curly.
It took him a moment to notice the tugging feeling all over him. His curls were in hopeless knots, so tight they pulled at his skin. He itched desperately for awhile, but it wasn't doing him any good. Frustrated, he whipped his head to the mirror to see just how bad they were--that's when he noticed his glasses were still stuck to his face.
This was bad enough already, the last thing he needed was to look like an idiot even as a damn wolf.
He shook them off, excited to finally be able to see without them--
He could not see without them.
Maybe he could admit fault for that one. He wasn't sure why he had been under the impression that he wouldn't be as blind as a bat when he was a wolf, literally no one had told him his eyes would be any better. They were still his eyes. Whoops.
So maybe Richie decided this was a disaster, and he needed his parents right about now.
He blindly wandered over to the door, relying on pure memory to get him there. He hated every step, his fur was so unbearably uncomfortable. Okay, the door should be right about--he hit his head as he walked right into the door--here.
He nudged it with his nose. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. He pushed on it with all he had before he remembered he had closed his freaking door.
With a whimper of defeat, he just laid down.
Richie had managed to fall asleep at one point.
When he woke up, there was warm sunlight filling his room. He shot up, grasping at himself, smiling when he felt only skin. Thank. God.
He scrambled to his discarded glasses, blessing human bodies and their thumbs as he picked them up, eagerly putting them on. He let out a sigh as his vision returned to him, leaning against the wall. He couldn't have been happier that it was over.
At breakfast that morning, he informed his parents that he had finally 'wolfed out'.
"That's great news!" his mom said excitedly. "How was it?"
Richie glanced between their eager expressions, smiling. "It was great. Oh, just great. My mind has been opened and all that junk," he said, not a trace of sarcasm. Not so surprisingly, he didn't really want to share the details. If they thought it went well, then this conversation would end sooner.
"Glad to hear it," Went said. "I bet you're looking forward to doing that more often, huh?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely."
He never wanted to do that again.
And for the most part, he gladly didn't.
Now that he had experienced his first full moon, if he wanted, he could fully shift like that again whenever he wanted. The only time he had to experience that was full moons. Which was roughly about once a month, and he could deal with that.
Sort of.
Each night seemed to bring a new disaster. He started keeping his door open in case he needed his parents, but he tried to handle his issues by himself. Or at least wait till morning to tell them. Except for the time he forgot to dress down before the shift. He wasn't sure what he thought would happen if he kept his clothes on, but it's not like they just magically disappeared, and he wasn't a big enough wolf to tear them, so... He just got stuck.
His parents never let him live that one down.
Other than that, there was the time he broke his glasses; they had fallen off while he was itching so he tried to nudge them onto his face. Richie did not know his own strength. On a different moon, he knocked over his mirror and broke it because he didn't realize just how much longer his body was as a wolf. He did all kinds of dumb shit; he tore up his sheets in an attempt to crawl onto his bed, he got food everywhere when he tried to eat, he had to spend twenty minutes cleaning the fur off his bed the next morning that he had itched off himself the night previous--needless to say, it was a work in progress.
It was when he thought maybe he was finally starting to get the hang of this whole arrangement that Eddie made things difficult.
"Hang out tonight?" he asked, leaning against Richie's locker.
"No can do, Eduardo. Not tonight."
Eddie didn't look surprised to hear this; he was probably starting to suspect something by now. There was only one night a month when he turned him down. In hindsight, he probably should've done it more often to divert suspicion... Well, too late now.
Eddie just scrunched up his nose in that pissy little way he did. "What're you doing?"
Richie grinned and pinched his cheek. "Did I tell you that you're cute today?"
Eddie swatted his hand away. "Richie," he groaned.
"I just don't feel good!" he said dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air for effect. "Trust me. Plus, you're a doctor, you should be encouraging me to stay home."
Eddie couldn't help the smile on his face. "Shut up, I'm not a doctor." he softened a little bit. "But yeah, if you're not feeling good, get some rest."
"Thanks Spaghetti, I will." Richie said, kissing his head. "Now please, give me some more expert medical advice."
Eddie just laughed and rolled his eyes, but he did in fact jump on the opportunity to give Richie much more health tips than he needed.
Richie sat there on his bed, wrapped up in a blanket, glaring at the moon.
It wasn't quite time yet, but Richie was prepared. He was dressed down, he had his glasses on, and he didn't plan to move around too much--so he probably wouldn't get hopelessly stuck in his blanket or rip up anymore sheets. He was prepared this time. Nothing would go wrong.
He knew it was happening even before he noticed the fur growing over his skin. This time's gonna be easy. he thought, determined. This time will be normal. I'll just go to bed, no problem--
That really was his plan. Until his window started sliding open.
Eddie was crawling in. "Hey, I brought you some stuff," he announced, sliding in his room and shutting the window behind him. "You want some cold medicine? I've got--" he stopped when he finally looked at Richie, dropping the bag in his hand.
Richie just stared blankly at him; he knew his ears were out already, and the fur was just about all over him now. He couldn't think of anything good to say, so he just settled for "shit".
Eddie couldn't either, apparently, because he just quietly muttered: "Yeah. Shit."
Richie pulled his blanket over his head for the last bit of the transforming. It was a good thing he didn't have anything to say, because now he couldn't.
Richie could feel Eddie hesitantly sit on the bed in front of him. Slowly, he pushed the blanket off Richie's head. Richie was completely in his wolf form now, there wasn't much he could say to explain himself now.
Eddie looked all over him, but Richie couldn't read his expression at all. Just as he was seriously considering trying to make a run for it, somewhere, a smile suddenly split across Eddie's face. Then, much to Richie's surprise, he was laughing--full on laughing.
"You have glasses as a wolf!? Rich, that's the stupidest thing I've ever seen!"
Richie probably would've laughed if he could have; a startled laugh, sure, but a laugh nonetheless. This was not how he had expected this to go down.
"Okay," Eddie said, a slight nervous edge to his voice, despite the apparent calmness on his face. "So I guess you're a wolf. That's... Huh. Well, if I had known this was the issue, I would've brought something other than cold medicine," he said with a small laugh; he was definitely on edge, but he was taking it way better than he thought he would.
Eddie lightly ran his hand over him, his smile falling. "Jesus, you're so knotted up."
Richie couldn't help the whine that left him, and he immediately had to itch once Eddie's hand left him.
Eddie frowned. "Alright, hold on." he said, rushing over to the bathroom. When he came back, he had detangler and a brush.
Richie would've been protesting if he could have been, but Eddie just ignored Richie's flattened ears and made his way over. He sprayed detangler generously, yet the moment he tried to brush out a knot, Richie yelped and scurried away from him.
Eddie did not look amused. "Come on you big baby," he groaned. "It won't hurt that bad if you just let me do it." he didn't wait for Richie to come back to him, he moved to him and got started again.
Richie really did try to stay still, but this was so much worse than the itchiness. Though Eddie clearly didn't intend to let him go this time, he just threw himself over him. "Stay still!" he shouted, continuing to brush him.
Eventually, Richie realized it was pointless to tell Eddie no--which, he knew already, so why did he even try?--so he just sucked it up and stayed still.
It took so long.
At least two hours just to get all the knots out. But Eddie was careful, and very nice with that detangler, and eventually they got there. Of course, Eddie wasn't done. He went on and on about how damaged his fur looked now, so he dragged Richie to the bathroom so he could shampoo and condition his fur.
And by dragged, Richie meant dragged.
He fought it with everything he had, but Eddie was determined as hell. And the moment Eddie got him near the tub, he deadass just shoved him in. He wasn't playing around.
Richie wished he could talk, he would have so much to say.
Yet, when it was all said and done, and Eddie was sitting there, blow drying Richie's fur, it suddenly was all worth it. He had never been so relaxed on a full moon.
"See? Wasn't so bad." he glanced at the clock, then back at Richie disapprovingly. "It only took us all damn night. Do you ever take care of yourself?"
Richie just stared back at him--Eddie lectured him even when he physically couldn't answer him. And oddly enough, Richie had never felt such fondness for him.
Honestly, how lucky did Richie have to be? Eddie just showed up and completely accepted him, then took care of him. Even when Richie whined and made a whole ass scene, and literally fought against him the entire time. But Eddie didn't give up on him, he never did. Richie was beyond grateful.
Sure, Eddie was a little monster, but Richie was too. It was meant to be.
Once Richie was dry, Eddie looked over him. "That's much better," he said, petting him lightly--the feeling was so soothing, Richie never wanted him to stop. He just wanted to curl up with him right there for the rest of the night.
But irony was never wasted on Richie, and Eddie gave him a sad smile. "I should probably get going. If mom realizes I snuck out, she'll kill me."
Richie just nuzzled his hand lightly. Eddie laughed softly, shaking his head. "This is... so weird."
Richie wished he could smile at him.
Eddie collected his stupid little bag of cold medicine. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, pausing in the window. "As a human, preferably." he added, that smug little grin on his face.
Richie just watched him go, wishing he'd stay.
He curled up on his bed. And for the first time since his full shifts, he was able to relax. He wasn't dreading the next time for once. He was comfortable.
That was the first peaceful sleep he'd ever gotten under a full moon.