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`The bar is packed after the show.
Eddie has never seen it this packed, even on a Saturday night.
Usually there’s maybe twenty people at the bar on a Saturday (if they’re lucky) but ever since The Losers Club started playing gigs at the stage upstairs, over a hundred people try to squeeze their way into the bar every Saturday.
Eddie has been going to this bar for a long time, way before any of these posers had ever heard the name of The Falcon. He and Bev go all the time to party, or just to blow off some steam after work. They went before it was ever this popular, it was the best place to drink all hours of the night, ogle cute boys, and just get fucked up.
He’s not complaining, don’t get him wrong. Eddie loves rock and roll, even if he won’t fully admit it. The Losers Club are maybe the newest band on the rise, he thinks they’re going to make it out there. They might happen to be the best rock and roll band he’d ever heard in the local New York scene.
(Or maybe he just likes them because of their totally hot vocalist).
He had shaggy messy raven hair, always coated in sweat. It was repulsive, Eddie would think if it was anyone other than Richie Tozier. He was always wearing baggie ripped jeans that were always hanging off his hips, a heavy leather jacket that he would almost always rip off halfway through the show (watching this sight gave Eddie butterflies), and a white tank top that was ripped just above his stomach. Sometimes he wrote sayings on the tank top in marker (such as “Fuck The Police” or “Kiss me harder”). His glasses were almost constantly falling off of his face and complimented his lazy grin and his freckles that somehow stuck out under the dim lighting.
Richie Tozier was a one of a kind boy.
Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about him, like he was some little fangirl who had a room full of posters of him. He was beautiful, he was everything Eddie wanted.
Eddie sat at
his
stool at the bar like he does every Saturday night, this time he was alone, Bev had abandoned him for another blind date, but knowing her luck she’ll probably show up soon.
The bar is louder than usual after The Losers Club show as the jukebox blares music that thumps in his cranium. The lyrics sound incoherent under the mess of drunken chatter surrounding him.
“Uh, give me a fuckin’ gin and tonic, please!” Someone beside Eddie drunkenly slurs at the bartender.
Eddie doesn’t pay much mind to him, he sees rowdy drunk cocky assholes like this all the time, but the way the boy lazily pushes his glasses back up on his nose catches his eye.
Eddie turns his head, and he knows who it is.
Richie Tozier.
Maybe Eddie is just tipsy, but he feels his heart begin to race. Holy fuck Eddie was in the presence of his fucking microcelebrity crush.
Richie, obviously very wasted (probably very high as well based on his pupils which were blown wide) notices the brunette staring at him. He lazily looks over his shoulder, shooting him a grin when he sees the kid sitting beside him.
Eddie stares at him in awe before thinking to himself this is the time to shoot your fucking shot.
So Eddie straightens his posture, and throws on his hottest, cockiest, ‘I don’t give a fuck about anything’ smirk, one that only comes out when he wants to impress someone badly and leans over eyeing Richie.
“You’re Richie Tozier, right?” Eddie asks, as if he hadn’t been secretly whispering to Bev that he thought he was the most attractive guy he’d seen in his life last week and as if he wasn’t trying his hardest to impress the man in front of him right now.
“Yes I am, handsome!” Richie exclaims, giggling softly to himself, warmth growing hot in Eddie’s chest. “And who are you?”
“I’m Eddie” Eddie answers.
“What’s your
full
name?” Richie asks, smiling lazily, leaning on his elbow.
Eddie snickers, batting his eyelashes. “Why do you want to know that, huh? You could be some kind of brutal axe-wielding serial killer” Eddie teases, narrowing his eyebrows into slits.
“I don’t have the motivation to be an axe-wielding serial killer,” Richie jokes.
“Edward James Kaspbrak” He tells him, pursing his lips and laughing softly at the raven.
“James?” Richie questions, furrowing his eyebrows.
“My mom is very creative with names, if you can’t tell. She got it from ‘Most Popular Baby Names of the 70’s’” Eddie replies, sarcastically. “What’s your full name, Richie Tozier?”
“Richard Wentworth Tozier”
“Wentworth?” Eddie gasps, throwing a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hold back a laugh. “Your parents are worse at names”
“Shut it there, Pipsqueak! That’s my daddio’s name, don’t disrespect old Went Tozier. He could kick some serious ass” Richie drunkenly informs Eddie.
“I’m sure, that’s why you’re so strong and manly too, huh?” Eddie teases, reaching a hand to poke at Richie’s skinny arms, a smirk sitting proudly on his lips.
Richie looks down at his lanky form, and snorts. “Fuck off”
Eddie laughs in reply, as Richie takes his gin and tonic from the bartender, beginning to take a huge sip off of it.
“You should come hang with me and my boys, Eddie Kaspbrak” Richie offers.
Eddie feels like the air had been knocked out of his lungs all at once.
Richie Tozier was inviting him to fucking hang out.
“You sure?” He manages to nervously stammer out.
Richie rolls his eyes in response. “Of course I’m sure, why do you think I’m fucking asking Ed’s? I want you there”
“Don’t call me that” Eddie answers, shaking his head softly. Richie lazily offers a hand out to Eddie, which he gratefully takes as he hauls himself off of the barstool and begins to be tugged by Richie over to a group of people.
They reach a group of three guys crowded around a booth. There’s two people Eddie recognizes from Richie’s band, and one guy he doesn’t.
“Guys! Guys!” Richie shouts. The group of people turn their heads, expressions lighting up when they see Richie.
“T-Tozier, hey! I was w-wondering where you went-t” Another lanky guy with auburn hair stutters. Eddie recognizes him as the drummer of The Loser’s Club. He’s slurring his words vaguely, but not nearly as bad as Richie.
“This is Eddie, Eddie is my new best friend” Richie announces. “Eddie this is Bill, Stan and Ben” He nudges Eddie, gesturing to the three who were sitting at a booth. “Stan is our guitarist, Bill is our drummer, and Ben just hangs around I think”
“I’m your manager, asshole” Ben shoots at Richie. Ben straightens his posture and grins up at Eddie, clutching a beer bottle like it’s his lifeline. He reaches over, offering Eddie his free hand to shake, which he takes willingly.
“I already told ya, Haystack. I don’t need no managing!” Richie argues.
“Someone needs to collect you at the end of the night when you’re too pissed to stand” Stan retorts. This sends Richie off on another tangent, but Eddie is pulled into a conversation with Ben before he has the chance to listen.
“C’mon take a seat” The man beckons, Eddie sliding in the seat opposite to him. “I’m Ben, nice to meet you Eddie”
“Yeah, you too,” Eddie replies, flashing a small smile at him.
The guitarist, Stan, sits quietly beside Ben. He has curly dirty blonde hair, and a monotonous expression on his face. He gives Eddie a nod and a lazy wave as a lame excuse for a greeting, and goes back to sipping at the drink in front of him and listening to the ongoing conversations around him.
Once Eddie was paying attention to someone else, Richie got distracted and fell into Bill’s lap. He was whining to Bill to give him the rest of his whiskey, even though he had a brand new gin and tonic. Bill obviously declined, which just included a lot more of Richie’s drunken, hilarious, childish complaining (“C’mon Bill. Just a sip? I share my blow with you for no reason, don’t I?”)
“Now are you just another one of Richie’s boy toys or are you an actual friend?” Ben inquires. Ben seems like the most sober one out of the group, meaning he is the only one that should really be asking this question. Either way, Eddie’s hoping he’s the latter, he doesn’t just want to be Richie Tozier’s toy, although he wouldn’t complain if that was all he got to be.
“Uh, a friend, I’m hoping?” Eddie replies, hesitantly. “I don’t know, what do you think?”
“You seem like an okay one to keep around,” Ben tells him. “You’re not coked out of your mind, which is a first”
Eddie snorts at that, not getting a chance to reply before Richie is back on his feet and bugging Eddie.
“So, Eddie” Richie asks, leaning forward, almost enticing him. “Have you ever seen one of our shows?”
“I have actually” Eddie replies, with a smile.
“Are you a fan?” Richie questions.
Eddie shrugs. “You guys are good, better than anyone else I’ve seen play here”
“I can sign your dick if you want” Richie jokes, a smirk hanging off of his lips.
Eddie snorts at that. “Take me to dinner first. I’m not that kind of girl, rockstar”
A lie. Eddie was totally that kind of girl.
Richie sips at his gin and tonic, passing it to Ben when he decides he’s done with it.
“So, do you have your eye on anyone Eddie?” Richie questions, leaning his head on his shoulder.
“What are you trying to ask?” Eddie urges.
“He’s asking which way you swing,” Ben states, plainly. “This isn’t the straightest bar in town, is it Ed’s?”
“I like boys” Richie tells Eddie, even though he didn’t ask. “I like boys with brown hair and brown puppy dog eyes and freckles”
A blush rises to Eddie’s cheeks. “I like boys too, I don’t usually go for rockstars though” He jokes, to which Richie pouts at.
“D-Do you guys wanna d-do shots?” Bill asks, gesturing to his now empty whiskey. Richie had managed to sneak it past Bill, downing it all.
“I can’t believe you would even ask that” Richie exclaims, feigning shock. “When have I ever turned down a shot?”
Minutes later, there are shots lined up and down the table of their booth.
Richie picks up a shot and downs it all in one gulp, alcohol dripping from his lips. Once he catches Eddie watching him, entranced with the boy, he reaches up and wipes his hand with the back of his mouth and licks the alcohol off of his thumb.
Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat at this.
Richie continues to stare him down, until he smirks and takes another shot. Eddie follows so he doesn’t keep fixating his gaze on Richie’s hands.
After a few rounds of shots, the group is understandably wasted, Richie the most trashed out of the five of them.
“So, Eddie” Richie begins, a wasted smirk plastered on his face. “When can I take you home with me?”
Eddie laughs, flattered. “Whenever you wanna get out of here, Tozier”
“Let’s go then, Pipsqueak” Richie urges.
Eddie stares at him in response, unsure whether he is being serious until Richie grabs his wrist and is tugging him out of the booth.
“Edster and I are going to head out right about now. ‘Twas a good set gentlemen” Richie says, not letting go of Eddie’s wrist. “Now you fellows have a good night, and I will see youse around! Tally ho, buh-bye! Take care now!”
“Oh, fuck no. We share an apartment Richie! What am I supposed to do all night while you’re fucking in every room of the house again” Stan whines.
Richie shrugs in response, Eddie’s cheeks burning red. “I don’t know, figure it out, Stan. Crash with Bill. You two can cuddle”
Bill rolls his eyes lazily and flips Richie off, but still smiles. “H-Have fun you two”
“Oh, you bet your ass we will, Billy” Richie exclaims, waving goodbye.
The two drunkenly stumble out into the warm summer air. Richie waves down a cab and the two of them rush into the back of it, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Once the two reach the apartment, Eddie is eager to get out of the cab. Richie throws down a tenner to the cab driver and helps Eddie out, holding his hand all the way up to the apartment.
When they get in the apartment, Richie lets go of Eddie for the first time since they left the bar. Eddie looks around Richie’s apartment, taking in the new atmosphere, while Richie walks over to a record player pushed up against the wall of the living room. He puts the needle down on the record already sitting, ready to be played. Love My Way by The Psychedelic Furs begins to hum throughout the room.
“Wow, you know how to set the mood, Tozier” Eddie giggles.
Richie turns around to face him, and smiles, pulling him closer by the red bandana tied around Eddie’s neck. “Are you sweet talking me?”
Eddie grins. “I suppose I am”
It’s then when Richie’s hands cup Eddie’s jaw, and he leans in, catching the boy's lips. Eddie’s eyes flutter closed as he melts into Richie’s touch, heart skipping a beat at the thought of finally kissing the guy he’s wanted to kiss for so long.
Richie doesn’t kiss like Eddie expected. It’s nothing like Richie usually is. It isn’t rough and full of energy, it’s soft and sweet, as if Eddie was delicate to him, like water in his hands.
Eddie pushes Richie back onto the couch. He pushes him to sit and looks down at him before straddling his hips and kissing him like it meant something.
Eddie’s hooked up with many people, especially strangers, but this time it felt different. Maybe it’s because he had been watching Richie for so long, or maybe it’s just how Richie was, but it felt like this was something, not just another meaningless hookup.
They sit like that, intertwined with each other, flooding with infatuation for what feels like hours, until it stops suddenly.
Richie puts a steady hand on Eddie’s chest, looking up into the chocolate eyes looking down at him.
“I think I really like you, Eddie,” Richie tells him, eyes softening. “You know that?”
“Oh shut up, you’re drunk” Eddie giggles.
“No, I’m serious,” Richie insists. “I feel like drawn to you or something”
I feel like we have magnets in our souls and are being pulled together by the force of need.
“You’ve only just met me” Eddie argues, still smiling.
“Doesn’t make it any less true”
“You probably say this to every boy you want to fuck”
“I promise I’ve only said this to you, darling”
“Well, you know what? I think I like you too”