Chapter Text
Richie Tozier never really wanted a soulmate. But he was never really against the idea either. I guess that’s just what happens when you’re the product of parents who found their soulmates after being married with a kid for ten years. Who were completely devoted to each other but by some flaw in the universe were told that they weren’t actually meant to be together. They divorced when Richie was 11. He spent half the time with each parent and their new spouses and even though he knew his parents were happy together he could just sense how incredibly perfect they were with these new people. Their soulmates. Richie figured if these things called soulmates were important enough to make breaking up a happy family worth it, then there could be some merit to the theory.
Richie didn’t start looking for his soulmate until he was 14. He had fallen for someone. Hard. And it wasn’t the fact that it was a boy that was hard, or even the fact that he was the cousin of the town bully that made it hard. It was the fact that he wasn’t his. And no matter how much Richie loved this boy it didn’t matter because in no universe would he say the words that lined Richie’s collarbone and in every universe he would end up with some one else. And it was then that Richie refused to be his parents and spend all his love on a dead end. He didn’t think his heart could take it.
So, he did what he knew, he made it a game. He asked anyone he met leading questions or put himself in situations where he could talk to as many new people as possible. That’s how he got himself to a party on the far side of town, at this point however, he was pretty sure he’d talked to everyone in Derry’s population of a few thousand.
The party was happening.
Well as happening as it can get with a single joint and a few packs of cheap beer for thirty people cause you and everyone you know are a bunch of poor fucks. And when you live in a town where everybody knows everybody and their grandparents, shops are pretty quick to ban any lawbreakers that dare.
Richie got to the party around 9 pm dressed in his Friday night best (red Hawaiian shirt layered over a credence clearwater revival tee and the jeans with the least holes in them).
Mike Hanlon’s barn smelled like cow ass and hay, but they could play their music as loud as they wanted so it was 100% worth it. Richie made a mental note to request some AC/DC after he found his friends. Looking around the sparse crowd he recognized everyone from school or temple or just around their tiny town. Most of the attendees were drinking and dancing (dry humping) in the middle of the floor, some were huddled around what looked like a Mario Kart competition in the back, and a few were smoking in the frame of the side door.
“Jesus this is pathetic.” Richie muttered to himself. Not that he had anything better to do.
Suddenly he felt a firm whack on his shoulder. “Holy --”
“F-finally came out to p-p-play Tozier!” The assailant was none other than Bill Denbrough, the class “could have been golden boy” who was on the fast track to getting out of this dump with his natural charisma and way with words but who fell off the rails after the early death of his baby brother. He already looked about 3 solo cups in with another full one in hand.
“We g-g-getting trashed ton-night?”
“You’re always trashed Big Bill.” Richie half smiled.
“Booo. Y-y-you gotta live up to your n-name sometime Trashmouth!”
Richie detached himself from Bill’s shoulder grip. “Hey is Bev here yet?”
“Yeah. She’s out b-back with h-her man. Lucky b-b-bastards.”
Richie cracks a devilish grin and rubs his hands together. “Cockblock time!”
He scampers over towards the smokers leaving Bill to empty his cup.
The fifth piece in their little friendship pentagon was the ever so vibrant Beverly Marsh with her crimson hair and thick eyeliner that framed the most dissecting pair of blue eyes you ever had the misfortune of looking into.
Bill was just salty cause he had a crush on her since he saw her beating the crap out of some girl who called her a slut but was swiftly disappointed when she opened her mouth. And Bill was double salty these days cause just last month she said the right words to the marshmallow-y new kid who, in any other circumstance, would never have stood a chance.
Richie found the two of them on the side of the barn standing close so their hands could touch with no effort and giggling about whatever the fuck couples talk about. The warm September night air wrapped around the three of them.
“Hey! Make any ripe tomato babies yet?”
Bev doesn’t even need to turn around to see who it was. “Ugh beep beep Richie. She turns and blows a cloud of smoke in his face.
“Haha, hey Richie!” Ben smiles his chipmunk smile at a coughing Richie.
“Waddup haystack?”
Taking another drag of her cigarette, Bev eyeballs Richie has he rounds the couple to stand in front of them.
“So, how’s Derry treating ya Benny Boy? Run into any Bowers shaped problems yet?
“Oh um,” Ben’s smile diminishes just a bit. “No not really.”
Bev snaps her gaze from Richie to Ben.
“What? What the fuck happened?”
“Nothing!”
Bev simply crosses her arms and turns her body towards her boyfriend.
“Ok just – they just tried to stuff me in a locker and laughed when I didn’t fit. That’s all.” His voice gets quieter as the memory replays.
Bev’s face quickly turns from shock to anger. “Why didn’t you tell me! I’m going to fucking kill him!” She crushes the cigarette in her palm.
“That’s why!” Ben replies while grabbing her hand. “It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t want you to get worked up.”
Richie glances down to Bev’s wrist where Ben massages her soul mark WOW THANKS A LOT and sees how it immediately calms her down. He looks at Ben’s in the same spot YOU OK, NEW KID?
“Fuck I can’t wait for that.” Richie thinks to himself.
Richie sharply claps his hands together. “Ok new topic! Bev!?”
“Yes!”
“New-new kid? Losers club material or nah?”
“Oh definitely. Eddie Kaspbrak is a trauma ridden mess with a sense of humor and a psycho streak. He’s definitely one of us.”
Richie pumps the air with both fists. “Yes! The soulmate-less foursome is complete!”
“Oh, I don’t know about that Richie.” Ben interjects.
“No. Who? With WHO?”
The couple lean into the doorway and scan the crowd. Richie quickly follows suit.
“There.” Bev points at a lanky curly haired boy in a khaki ensemble talking to the host of the party. They’re sitting on the couch, Mike’s hand in Stan’s hair and Stan’s hand on Mike’s forearm, and if anyone knew Stan they would tell you he doesn’t let ANYONE touch him. Richie didn’t even get a hug out of the guy until five long years of loyal bestfriendship.
Richie gasps and clutches his fake pearls. “Nooooo!!”
“Yep.” they answer in unison.
Richie takes a deep inhale, “STAN YOU CHEATING BASTARD HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME???”
Most of the party stop to look at the source of the outburst. Stan and Mike especially. Mike looks mostly amused, Stan looks pissed. “Shut the fuck up Tozier, you had your chance!” And returns to his conversation without a second glance.
Richie fake faints. Ben catches him on reflex.
“Ok lover boy lets get to the party before you embarrass the rest of us.” Bev drags Richie into the party and joins Bill on the dance floor. Shitty 2010s pop blasts over the sound system and the party goes on.
About an hour and a half later Richie is downing his second cup of watered-down piss and gyrating to Party Rock Anthem. “I hate this sooonggg!!” Richie shouts as he dances even more excessively. Bev grabs the back of his shirt and talks into his ear over the pounding music.
“Hey Eddie’s on his way.”
“New-new kid?”
“Yeah, his train came in early, so I told him we’d pick him up. Wanna come with? I gotta get that drunkard back home anyway.” She nods in the direction of Bill who is more swaying than dancing to the music at this point.
“Oh, Bill.”
The four of them pile into Bev’s ancient station wagon.
***
“What the fuck is this piece of trash?” Richie blurted out upon seeing the monstrosity that laid before him on Bev’s 16th birthday.
“This piece of trash is going to be hauling your ass around town, so you better sit down and shut up or I’m not letting you pick any of the music.”
“A fatal mistake m’lady. What sweet eargasms you’ll be missing courtesy of the velvety vocals of Rick Astley.”
“Beep, beep Richie! Get in the damn car!”
***
The end of Never Gonna Give You Up blasts through the speakers. Richie bounces to the beat with Bill’s limp arms in his hands. “Never gonna let you down! Never gonna run around and desert you! Never gonna make you crrryyy!”
“Goddamit Richie if he pukes in this car you’re cleaning it up!” Bev yells from the driver’s seat.
“Boo, you’re no fun! Oh, shit let’s go to McDonalds!”
“I don’t know Rich, it’s kind of late.” Ben replies from the front.
“Oh, come on! We gotta break in new-new kid some time!"
“No. We’re not doing you stupid McDonalds experiment, and Eddie’s probably going to be tired."
“McDonalds! McDonalds! MCDONALDS! Richie bounce-chants in the back. Bev and Ben look at each other. Richie’s in one of those moods when he gets a big idea in his head and he won’t rest until he gets what he wants. Otherwise he’ll turn into Unbearably Annoying Richie.
“Fuck, fine.” Bev relents, “But we’re leaving by 12.”
“Yay, thanks mom!”
They drive up to the bus stop on main street around 11. Derry is too small to have a real train station, so Eddie had to bus in. By then they’ve dropped Bill on his couch and covered him with a warm blanket. He’s his mom’s problem now.
Before Richie sees Eddie he hears him. He’s yelling into his cell phone and making sharp gestures with his hands. Richie wonders who he’s talking to.
Bev flicks her lights and Eddie turns. Its only then that Richie’s breath hitches and his brain short circuits cause holy fuck Eddie Kaspbrak is gorgeous. He has deep brown eyes and expressive eyebrows and is absolutely drowning in an oversized jean jacket and he doesn’t even realize he hasn’t blinked until Eddie is opening the side door and Richie can hear exactly who he’s talking to.
“No mom I’m not in someone’s trunk. How would I be calling you right now! Bev. Bev, tell my mom she’s crazy.” Eddie shoves his cell phone in Bev’s ear as she starts driving.
“Hello, Aunt Sonia. Yes, he’s fine. No, we’re not doing anything dangerous.”
“See mom. Nothing dangerous. No! God, we’ve been on this call for an hour!”
Richie opens his mouth to introduce himself but is swiftly shut down by a “wait” finger in his face.
“Yes, I have my clothes. Yes, I have my toiletry bag. How could I forget that! Mom – Jesus Christ.”
Bev pulls the car into the McDonalds parking lot. The four climb out of the car, Eddie’s phone still pasted to his ear. And it stays pasted to his ear all the way through ordering their food and deciding on a booth and receiving their food and finally after Eddie has confirmed (for a second time) that he indeed has packed every single item on their shared checklist he finally ends the call.
“Yes, I’ll meet you first thing Monday morning. Ok. Love you too.” Eddie ends the call and slams the phone on the table. “JESUS FUCK.” He groans into his hands. Bev rubs his shoulders from across the table.
“You ok baby?”
“Yep. This is fine.” He lets out a long, LONG sigh.”
“Eat your fries Eddie. I gotta get something from the car.” Bev gets up from the booth, Ben follows.
Eddie roughly ruffles his hair, sighs again.
“French fry?” Richie asks quietly, holding up a pack towards Eddie, feeling a bit forgotten in the whirlwind and a lot sympathetic for whatever the fuck that shit show just was.
“Sorry I only accept French fries from my soulmate.” Eddie turns and looks at Richie for the first time and smiles a weak smile and if Richie wasn’t so blindsided by the happiness of being able to see this mystery man up close for the first time he might have immediately caught onto what Eddie just said.
“Wait.” A wave of realization washes over Richie and his blue eyes boggle behind his glasses. “Say that again.”
Eddie turns a little more towards Richie. “Sorry I only accept French fries from my soulmate?”
“Holy shit.” Richie scrambles to pull the collar of his shirt down.
“What—oh.” Eddie stops when he sees what Richie was so desperate to show him. SORRY I ONLY ACCEPT FRENCH FRIES FROM MY SOULMATE written in soft lettering just under his collarbone.
Eddie swallows; he meets Richie’s imploring stare. He looks for the underlying expression there but only finds curiosity.
“Um, sorry, but it’s not me.”
“Oh.” Richie releases his shirt collar. It’s a bit stretched from his harsh grip. He maybe kind of hoped that this boy with the soft wavy hair and light freckles would be his. But, guess not. Richie’s disappointment is obvious though, seeing as Richie Tozier never was one to hide his emotions.
“Here.” Eddie pulls up his sleeve to show his own mark down the side of his arm ARE YOU SURE?
“Damn that’s a tough one.”
“Yeah. Is that why you insisted on coming to McDonalds?” Eddie chuckles.
“Yep. All part of Richie Tozier’s soulmate finding master plan. That’s me by the way. Richie Tozier at your service.” Richie holds out his hand. Eddie smiles bigger.
“Eddie Kaspbrak.” If there’s a tiny spark of electricity that runs down Richie’s spine when they clasp hands he promptly decides it’s just due to the fact that Eddie is looking into Richie’s eyes like … something… and pushes it aside.
“Sorry you had to hear all that by the way. Not the best first impression.”
“Hey anyone who’s down for McDonalds at 12 am and can stand up for themselves is a good egg in my book.”
“Good to know.” Eddie replies, and by god did his eyes just flick to Richie’s lips? No way. Get your head out of the gutter Tozier.
The two of them get busy on the food. They’re knee deep into a debate about which Wiggles member is more fuckable while dunking fries into milkshakes when Bev and Ben return to the Booth.
“We miss anything?” Bev asks while grabbing a box of nuggets.
“Which of the Wiggles is the most fuckable?” Richie instantly questions.
Eddie groans into his hands, “Jesus Christ I already said it’s Lachlan Gillespie.”
“Please, Anthony Field obviously has superior bone structure.”
“You’re insane, Tozier!”
“I knew you two meeting was going to be a mistake.” Bev rolls her eyes at the other two.
They all laugh into the night and don’t leave the McDonalds until well after 2, much to the workers’ disdain. They walk back to the car a bit sugar high but definitely ready to crash once they all get home. Bev drops off Richie first, then Ben, Eddie’s crashing at Bev’s until Monday. After the Wiggles debate Eddie reveled in the fact that he was able to somehow convince his mother to let him stay the weekend with his cousin to get “settled in” which was code for “some goddamn peace and quiet”.
They all decide to meet up the next day with Bill and hopefully Stan and probably his newly acquired soulmate. Richie drops his stuff on the floor of his tousled bedroom and flops on his bed about to knock out. Before he can though he receives a text from EDDIE THE CUTE ONE
We need to talk. I’ll be at your house at 8.