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Ben huffed as he tried to reach up to tie the mistletoe by the entrance of the clubhouse, but even with the ladder it was proving to be difficult as he had short arms.
“Want some help?” Bev offered with a grin as she came over, cheeks still tinted red from being outside. She had a soft beige winter coat along with some red snow boots.
“Thanks, Bev.” Ben mumbled shyly as she tied the mistletoe for him, and then leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.
He flushed bright red as she giggled.
“Well it is tradition.” She reasoned.
“Thank you.” He found himself saying again, which made her laugh.
Stan gagged obnoxiously, breaking the two out of their moment. Bev flipped him off but he didn’t care, keeping his nose deep in his bird book.
When the Losers originally discussed decorating the clubhouse for Christmas, Stan had protested mainly because he celebrated Hanukkah, but they ended up compromising by keeping a menorah down there as well.
Richie, surprisingly, had been the other to protest, but his reasoning was that all holidays were stupid.
The others had been quite shocked, they just naturally assumed Richie celebrated something, but when questioned he merely stated he didn’t find any worth celebrating and refused to discuss it anymore.
So naturally, Richie was the only one not at the clubhouse while they were decorating, as he had wanted no part of it.
Eddie was shivering despite being wrapped up in a winter coat, a scarf, mittens, a hat and earmuffs, talking about how dangerous it was for them to be out there without heating.
And yet he stayed. Because they all knew deep down he wanted to.
Bill sighed a little as he hung another ornament on the tree they’d brought down. “I-It’s just…”
They all looked at him curiously.
“It’s n-not the s-s-same without Richie…” He sulked. “I-It’s weird t-to not hear h-his jokes and s-stuff, you know?”
Mike frowned. “I know what you mean, right about now he’d be joking about us getting naked and hugging each other for warmth in the cold.”
Bev snorted. “Oh man, you’re totally right.”
At the mention of their glasses-wearing friend, Eddie looked up at the ceiling. It was wearing being in the hammock by himself, he and Richie always shared…
‘I know he doesn’t celebrate, but he still could’ve come and hung out with us…’
As if the universe heard Eddie’s thoughts, the latch suddenly opened up and the others watched in awe as a familiar raven-haired boy stumbled down the ladder with a bunch of snow on his head.
“Richie!” They exclaimed pleasingly.
“You came!” Bev beamed, already running to greet him with open arms.
But she froze when Richie turned to look at her, and saw blood running down from the top of his head.
“Wow Bev, I know I’m handsome, but I didn’t know I was jaw dropping handsome.” He teased weakly, as if his glasses weren’t cracked and there wasn’t a big purple blemish under his eye and on his forehead.
“What happened!?” Bev asked in horror, getting the attention of the other Losers. “You’re bleeding badly!”
“WHAT?!” Eddie was bull rushing over and gasping when he saw the damage. “OH MY GOD, SIT DOWN YOU IDIOT!” He shrieked and scrambled to grab the first aid kit they kept down there.
Richie laughed lightly. “Relax Spaghetti, I made it here on my own didn’t I?” But as he said those words, he started stumbling.
“Whoa!” Bill barely caught him in his arms when he fell back, eyes glazed over as he stared up at the ceiling.
“Oh…you okay, Bill?” Richie mumbled.
Stan’s eyebrows furrowed. He leaned down and pressed a hand to Richie’s forehead, choking out a gasp. “He’s burning up!”
“FUCKING MOVE!” Eddie practically shoved him out of the way as he knelt down and shoved a thermometer in Richie’s mouth.
Richie lied in Bill’s arms pathetically on the floor, looking a bit in a daze.
“He looks really bad…” Mike mumbled with worry.
Eddie pressed a cloth to the wound on Richie’s head, sighing in relief when he saw the cut itself was relatively small.
Richie seemed to lean into the touch without even realizing it, eyes fluttering shut with content.
That’s when Bev realized he wasn’t wearing any winter gear, and gnawed on her bottom lip in worry. “We need to get him warm.”
“I’ll go back to my house and get some blankets.” Stan told them as he stood up.
But before he could move, a hand flew out and grabbed his wrist, making him pause.
Richie looked up at him tiredly, face flushed. “Don’t go…” He mumbled softly. “Stay.”
It was a childish whine, one that Richie would probably never make if he hadn’t been sick.
Richie always had such a way of keeping them close, and yet distant at the same time.
But he didn’t seem very capable while sick.
Stan swallowed hard and hesitantly nodded, sitting back down on the floor and holding Richie’s hand to give him support.
Mike dug around in one of the cabinets, beaming. “Hey, we have this blanket!”
“It’s so dirty.” Eddie scowled in disgust.
“It’s the best we can do.” Bev shrugged, slipping off her winter coat to wrap it around Richie’s shoulders.
Mike set the blanket down on his lap and Richie leaned back against Bill in content.
Eddie took the thermometer back and frowned at the fever. “It’s not crazy, but it’s a fever nonetheless. Richie, you should be home in bed.”
“No…” Richie groaned. “No home…”
“What happened?” Bev asked softly. “Why can’t you go home?”
Richie didn’t answer and instead let out a big yawn.
Eddie set a bandage over the cut on his head. “Rich, can you try and tell us what happened?”
“Mmm…” Richie nuzzled back into Bill’s chest, and Bill found himself wrapping a protective arm around him and pulling him even closer.
Ben hesitantly spoke. “Maybe we should let him sleep for a bit first.”
“Once he’s out, we should go get some medicine and stuff.” Stan told them quietly.
Bill frowned. “I’ll s-stay. B-Besides h-he’s made me his pillow a-anyways.” He stated rather fondly as he ran a hand through Richie’s hair. He smiled a little at Richie’s soft snores.
Eddie carefully removed his glasses and cringed. “They’re cracked pretty bad. I have his spares but they’re back at my house.”
“Alright, Stan, Eddie, go get supplies. We’ll stay with him.” Bev explained simply.
They had Richie lying down on the floor of the clubhouse, wrapped up in blankets and lying on a pillow. His face was flushed and he kept twitching tensely from discomfort.
Eddie set a wet washcloth on his forehead worriedly. “C’mon Rich…” He mumbled.
“We can’t take him home.” Stan frowned. “Should we take him to one of our houses?”
Bev scoffed. “We can’t take him to mine or Eddie’s, and your guys’ parents would ask too many questions.”
“So what? We just keep him here?” Mike frowned. “Not exactly the most comfortable or warmest of places.”
“We don’t have a choice.” Ben sulked.
Richie groaned again, getting everyone’s attention. His eyes fluttered open.
“Was goin’ on?” He muttered tiredly.
Eddie huffed. “You fucking collapsed with a fever and blood running down your face! Gave us all heart attacks, and came here without winter gear? Are you a fucking idiot? Do you know how dangerous it is to-“
Richie’s tears filled with tears, bringing Eddie’s rant to a halt.
“Um…” He winced. “I mean…”
Richie sniffled pathetically. “Mgh…”
Stan sighed. “He’s always such a baby when he’s sick.” But there was a hint of concern in his tone.
“I-I mean, I’m glad you came to us.” Eddie added awkwardly. “I’m guessing you didn’t have alternatives so…”
“Eddieeee…” Richie whined, making grabby hands for him.
Eddie winced. “Rich, I’ll get sick.”
“Awww, I’ll cuddle you, Rich.” Bev gushed before kneeling down and scooping Richie up in her arms like he was a newborn puppy. Richie happily welcomed the contact and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.
Everyone’s hearts clenched painfully at the sight.
“Can you tell us what happened, Richie?” Ben asked softly, sitting down in front of the two.
Richie swallowed hard, sniffling slightly. “My parents threw me out of the house…” He confessed. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Why did they do that!?” Stan asked in disbelief.
“Cause it’s Christmas…” Richie muttered bitterly. “My parents like to have the holidays for themselves, so they always kick me out for the week. But I was apparently taking too long to pack, so my mom threw a glass at me and this,” He gestured to the bandage on his face. “Happened. And then I had to leave without my stuff.”
Everyone was stunned to silence. They had never known it was such a bad situation.
Richie’s eyes became glossy again. “I didn’t even get to put on my coat…”
To everyone’s horror, Richie burst into tears on the spot.
“WHAT DO WE DO!?” Eddie shrieked in panic.
“I DON’T KNOW. RICHIE NEVER CRIES!”
“W-W-WELL H-HE’S CRYING N-NOW!”
Bev scowled at their yelling. “SHUT THE FUCK UP. THAT’S WHAT YOU DO!” They all went silent.
Bev cooed and ran a hand through Richie’s hair. “There, there…we’re here, you’re okay…” She whispered lovingly.
“I think Bev just adopted Richie…” Ben whispered awkwardly.
“Well somebody should.” Mike huffed.
Bill smiled sadly. “H-He’s always s-so weepy when he g-gets sick…I’m g-glad he doesn’t g-get sick often…”
Richie looked back at the rest of them with flushed cheeks and tears rolling down, making grabby hands.
And who the hell were any of them to say no?
Everyone huddled around Richie, wrapping him in hugs that left him sighing in content.
Except for Eddie who was paranoid of getting sick.
Richie looked at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“Richie come on…I don’t wanna get sick…”
His eyes somehow got wider.
Eddie groaned. “This is a one time thing and if you get me sick I’m gonna kick your ass.”
But that didn’t deter Richie in the slightest from practically collapsing against Eddie the second he was in reach.
Eddie sighed a little, the lightest blush formed on his cheeks as he ran a hand through Richie’s hair. “Jeez…so fucking clingy.”
The others were giving him looks, and wiggling their eyebrows.
He scowled, beet red. “SHUT THE FUCK UP ALL OF YOU!”
Richie looked up at Eddie hopefully. “Kiss?”
Eddie huffed. “You’re sick, Rich. I’m not kissing you.”
He pouted, but ultimately relented and continued to just cuddle against Eddie.
And soon enough, the clubhouse was returning to its normal state, with everyone split off doing their own things, but still checking up on Richie every now and then.
Richie yawned obnoxiously the next day. Everyone had slept over in the clubhouse. “I feel way better!”
“Good. We were worried you’d need a hospital.” Stan joked.
“Nah, just some good cuddles and lovin’ from my favorite people.” Richie grinned, turning and pinching Eddie’s cheeks.
Eddie scowled and smacked his hands away. “Yeah, and now we’re all gonna get sick, thanks a lot.”
Before Richie could retort, Bev stood up stretching. “Well, I gotta go. My aunt and I were supposed to go shopping today.”
Richie gasped. “Wait!” Everyone watched as he scrambled over to the ladder. “Okay!”
Eddie blinked, and then scowled in realization. “RICHIE GET OUT FROM UNDER THE MISTLETOE!”
“You wanna leave, you have to pay the fine.” Richie grinned.
Bev chuckled and merely kissed his cheek as she went by. “Merry Christmas, Richie.” She teased.
“Merry Christmas!” Richie chirped. “Even though it’s still a crummy holiday!”
One by one, everyone left the clubhouse, leaving their own kisses on Richie. Ben the cheek, Bill the forehead, Stan the temple and Mike the nose.
Which left only Eddie, who was giving him a deadpanned stare.
Richie practically bounced where he stood, grinning goofily. “Pleaseeeee?”
Eddie rolled his eyes before pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then his eyelashes, and even booping their noses together lovingly.
But despite all of that, Richie pouted. “Come on, Eddie!” He whined, gently tapping his mouth with his finger.
Eddie blushed and very hesitantly pressed a quick kiss to Richie’s lips, face on fire. “THERE. NOW LET ME THROUGH!”
It seemed to be enough for Richie, who was holding his face in his hands and staring off into space in awe. “Best. Christmas. Ever.” He whispered, though Eddie still heard it.
“You’re so stupid.” Eddie told him, but there was a fondness in his tone that couldn’t be ignored. “Now come on.”
Richie blinked. “What?”
“What do you mean what? I’m sneaking you into my house. I’m not leaving you in the clubhouse.”
Richie’s eyes widened. “Eds you don’t-“
“I know I don’t have to, but I might as well, you’ve already spread your germs. Now come on.”
Eddie looked anywhere but at him as he offered him his hand to hold.
And god, if Richie didn’t look like a blushing bride just from that.
Times like this were Eddie’s favorite. Richie got so impossibly shy at affection, and Eddie would take this to the grave, but he did sort of thing it was maybe slightly adorable.
Not that he’d ever tell Richie that in a million years.