Disclaimer: I don't own Bill, Richie, the Losers Club or It. They belong to Stephen King
I Would Do Anything For Love, But I Won't Do That
Bill knew he was different.
He wasn't talking about the fact that he could barely talk without stuttering or about the fact unnaturally skinny or even the fact that he fought something dangerous a few months ago. What was it? He couldn't say because as hard as tries, he couldn't remember anything; only that overwhelming fear and anger.
But other than that, he knew that he was different. That there was something wrong with him. And the frustrating part was he didn't know why he was different!
So Bill did what he usually did, how he started to do; shove it to the back of his mind, bear with the uncomfortable weight of unknowing and the wrongness, and smile pleasantly at his losers. After all, why worry them about something he himself doesn't know?
He's fourteen and that feeling of being different intensified.
He's at an age where he should be thinking about girls, holding hands, kissing them, touching them, and maybe doing heavy petting. While he likes the idea of holding hands and kissing, the thought of it going beyond that didn't interest him.
He said so when the losers were talking about relationships.
"What do you mean you only want to hold hands and kiss?" Richie asks in a dumbfounded manner.
Bill shrugs nonchalantly, "The idea of kuh-kuh-kissing sounds fuh-fun but I'm in no ruh-ruh-rush to do a-a-anything else."
"I actually thought you would have been the impatient, handsy type Big Bill." Eddie commented from where he sat next to Stan.
"I t-think you're c-c-confusing me with Ruh-Richie Eddie." Bill teased.
"YOWZA! Bill, how can you be so hurtful?"
"Beep beep Richie." Mike chuckles.
"Stop being so dramatic Richie." Stan snipped as he rolled his eyes.
"Stan, have you ever thought that you would have gotten laid by now if you just showed emotions?"
"Beep beep Richie!" Beverly sighed as she put out her cigarette.
Bill watch them silently as Ben tried to diffused the situation, Eddie pointing out that he didn't have enough bandages if they decided to brawl, and Mike placing a soothing hand on Stan's shoulder as Beverly smacked Richie over the head.
After that, the conversation was dropped and changed quickly before Stan changed his mind.
A month after that conversation, he dated a girl in his classroom. She was rather pretty with dark hair that was in curls, doe brown eyes, a pair of black glasses perched on her nose, and freckles on the bridge of her nose and cheeks.
On their date, Bill really did have fun and he enjoyed holding her soft and petite hand and quietly conversing with her, even if his stutter got in the way. He had no problem with her kissing him and initiating a rather tentative make out session with him. He didn't mind her soft scent filling his nose and he didn't mind feeling her body being pressed against his. But unexpectedly, his body tensed up when he felt her hand slipping inside his shirt and feeling her cool palm slide up his warm back.
He gently pulled away from her. When she questioned him with curious if somewhat hurt eyes, he merely said that he was in no hurry and that he wasn't exactly comfortable in going into a more intimate step. And while she didn't push, he believed that she understood.
He was wrong.
When he went back to school, he noticed the odd stares and the jeering smirks at his direction or the low, sarcastic quips when they thought he wasn't listening.
"Hey, do you hear that Denbrough wouldn't put out to Rhonda even though she was offering herself to him?"
"The stuttering freak? I'm not surprised. Do you see who he hangs out with?"
"You're right; he's probably a flamer. Do you see he mostly hangs out with guys, who also look just as gay as he does and that one dyke?"
"Fuck yeah, I mean come on, who would turn down Rhonda? Have you seen her tits?"
"He's either a faggot or an idiot."
It took a lot of restrain into not calling them out and ripped them a new one, even if they would only mock him for his angry, cut off sentences, but he couldn't help but wonder. Was that it? Was he gay and he didn't even realized it? Is that the reason why he had no interest in a girl's body?
Maybe he should go out with a guy instead. Maybe that's the solution to his problem?
He hoped so. He hoped that was his answer to fix himself…
At fifteen, a boy asked him out—in private mind you—with a cocky grin and sharp brown eyes. While he had thick, dark hair, Bill was disappointed to see that it wasn't curled.
When the boy asked, rather bluntly, if he wanted to be his date to a party, Bill hesitated before answering a tentative yes, as long as his friends were able to come.
The boy, Gabriel, argued that it was a date, in which Bill reassured that he just wanted his friends to have fun and that they won't interrupt them. And while Gabriel looked displeased, he conceded with his request. Bill thanked him with a warm smile and was surprised but amused to see Gabriel let out a flustered cough before scampering off.
On the night of the party, Bill was surprised that while he and Gabriel didn't have a lot in common, they got along just fine. He was being pressed upon Gabriel and the body heat coming from the boy made him feel comfortably warm and made him feel a bit drowsy.
He almost jumped out of his skin when Gabriel turned his face towards him and started kissing him. Gabriel's kisses were rough and urgent and they forcibly pushed the sleepiness away as he himself started to get into their vigorous kissing.
He was caressing Gabriel's sharp cheekbone when he tensed up and he almost choked on his breath. Pulling back, he took in a deep breath and tried to ignore the hand on his thigh. Letting himself be pulled back into the kiss, he wouldn't stop tensing up and trying to move his leg away from the wandering hand that left a permanent heat on his upper thigh, even through the rough, thick fabric of his jeans.
When the hand started to get closer to his groin and Gabriel's other hand started to grip too tightly to his waist, he firmly pushed him back.
When Gabriel, bewildered and annoyed, asked him why they stopped, he answered honestly. He simply did not feel comfortable nor did he felt a need to go to the next step. He thought he understood.
He was wrong.
Glaring at him scornfully, Gabriel snapped that he was just a little cock tease and that he should stop sending mixed signals before someone actually gets pissed at him and take what they want.
Hurt and angry, Bill told him to shove it where the sun doesn't shine and walks off, already knowing that his friends were following him and all willing to ditch the party.
The feeling of wrongness and distinctiveness comes back tenfold.
What's wrong with him?
At sixteen, he stood there and watched silently as he sees his beloved losers find their own heart mate.
He watched the way Eddie started to touch Stan more, whether it be him putting his hand on his shoulders, teasing touches on his arms that lasted a bit longer than it should, or how he'll bump their hands together when they walked too closely.
Stan was no better with how close he'll stand to Eddie or how he'll sit so closely to him, they might as well shared the same breath when they speak to each other.
Mike surprised everyone one day when he shyly presented Ben a flower, warm brown eyes earnest and crocked smile on his face.
When Ben accepted the flower with a gracious smile and blush on his cheeks, the courtship continued as Mike gave Ben one or three flowers everyday and Ben would in turn give him papers that were obviously poems with the way Mike would smile, laugh, or blush.
Beverly was constantly reading letters that belong to her pen-pal but her wide smiles and her flustered looks said it all; their girl was in love.
Surprisingly, Richie seemed to be pretty calm and had no seemingly interest in dating, even if he did received a lot of the girls' attention now that he grew into his body and his limbs are starting to become proportionate and he ditched his glasses for his new prescribed contact lenses. But in his honest opinion; Richie had always been attractive, with glasses or no glasses and his gangly limbs.
But Richie seemed to be happy to be single; for now.
And while Bill was happy for his losers, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming feeling of loneliness and bitterness as all six of them looked so happy and at peace.
He himself just got out of a relationship because the girlfriend he had for three weeks finally dumped him because he once again refused to go any further than that other than kissing and stroking her face.
But he couldn't lose hope.
He'll find his understanding heart mate one day.
…Right?
He's seventeen and he had come to accept that there is something wrong with him and that he simply couldn't fix it.
He could see. And so could everyone else!
He enjoyed kissing girls and he had fun kissing boys. But anything beyond kissing distresses and at times disgusted him, much to his confusion and exasperation.
When his last girlfriend decided to end it, he decided that he was done with relationships.
He couldn't stand the looks of anger, annoyance, confusion, or disappointment any longer.
He resigned himself to a lonely, confusing, and bitter life.
Maybe he was not meant for anyone and no one was meant for him?
After all, it explained why his parents refused to acknowledge him or why the only person who loved him unconditionally was ripped away from him.
It explained why his soul mates could find the one for them but not himself.
Despite being seven outcasts, he would always be the freak.
The one with the stutters, the one with ghostly mother and the ever angry father, the one with the too thin body, and the one who felt no desire to be intimate with those he should consider the one.
He was a freak, clean and simple.
Maybe he wasn't even human and was merely a flawed machine.
Either way, who could ever love him?
"Hey birthday boy, how's it shakin'?" Richie asks with a cocky grin as he stands in front of the open door, waiting to be let in as he presented a vanilla cupcake with a lit candle on top of it.
Bill smiles at his best friend and blows gently to put out the fire, grabbing the cupcake from Richie's outstretched hand as he steps aside. Richie quickly enters.
"I'm fuh-fine Richie." Bill reassures as he sits on the sofa.
Richie sits down next to him, "I would like to say that I believe you but I'll be lying to you and myself."
"Don't you u-u-usually do?"
"Now listen here sweetheart!" Richie starts with a Yankee accent, "That's awfully rude to say to the boy who's checkin' you!"
"Sorry." Bill chuckles.
Richie grins before his grin leaves and a worried frown appears on his face, "Talk to me Bill."
"Tuh-talk about what?"
"Don't think I haven't notice that you hadn't been the same ever since the relationship between Sandy and you ended."
"That was fuh-five months a-ago Richie."
"Exactly; you been…quiet lately. Beverly and the guys think that you're taking a break but I know it's something else. So, what is it?"
Bill shakes his head, focusing his eyes on something beyond Richie's shoulder but also giving him the illusion that he's looking at him, "Its nuh-nuh-nothing Richie."
Richie stays quiet, silently eying the boy next to him before placing his hand on top of Bill's knuckles, waiting to see if he pulled away. When he didn't, he wrapped his slim fingers around Bill's hand.
He doesn't always do this in front of others, not even the Losers, but when they're by themselves, only them, Richie likes to hold Bill's hand and Bill uses those moments to lean against him, taking the comfort that Richie offered.
Today was no different.
Richie pulls him gently towards him and Bill went along willingly, resting his head against Richie's neck and tightened his hold on the brunet's hand.
But today was a day of surprises it seems.
With one hand holding Bill's hand, Richie uses his other arm to wrap it around Bill and pull him impossibly close, the embrace feeling protective and possessive all in one.
"Bill, you might not want to talk about this now nor later but I want you to know that I'm here either way."
Bill relaxes against the hold and smiles as he nods.
"Bill, you know that I love you right? That I'm in love with you?"
Bill starts at that simple but intense declaration, raising his eyes to stare at Richie. Richie appears serene as he stares back at Bill. But Bill can tell how nervous he was as he could feel Richie's heart trying to escape through his ribcage with how tight they were pressed together.
"Y-y-you can't juh-just drop a bomb like that Ruh-Richie!" he exclaims as he realize with embarrassment that his face started to heat up.
Richie snorts, although his cheeks are starting to pink, his faint freckles becoming noticeable, "Since when do I follow protocols? I do things my own way."
Bill could only stare at him before shaking his head rapidly, "You can't be in love with me."
Richie stares at him confusion and worry, "Bill?"
Bill tries to back away from him. Richie, now more worried than confused, complied and watched at his best friend and the person he's in love with back away from him.
"Bill?" Richie repeats again.
"Richie, y-y-you—" Bill takes in a deep breath then exhaling, "You can't be in l-l-love with m-me."
Richie tilts his head, "And why not?"
Bill sputters as before shaking his head, "You can't!"
"Bill, you're confusing me. Is this your way of saying that you don't feel the same? Because, man that would make more sense than what you're trying to tell me."
Bill runs a hand through his auburn locks, refusing to stare at Richie.
It wasn't that he wasn't in love with Richie. If he was being honest with himself, what he felt for Richie was different than what he felt for the Losers and deeper than just friendship. He was always there in the back of his mind, always clouding his thoughts and filling that gaped hole in his chest whenever he was feeling particularly lonely or bitter.
But still…
"Richie, its—it's not that I d-don't feel the s-s-same; but we…we cuh-couldn't be t-t-together."
Richie raises an eyebrow, "And why not?"
"Richie, I'm nuh—I'm not n-normal."
Richie only continues to stare at him.
"Richie, all of duh-dates and exes that b-b-broke up with me was b-because I w-wouldn't puh-put out." Bill admits bitterly, curling up a bit at the end of the couch.
Richie let out a flat, "What?"
"R-remember when I s-s-said that I didn't m-mind not going fuh-further than k-kissing? Well, it's b-because when I t-t-try to go any further than t-that, I f-freeze up! No matter how m-much I try to i-ignore it and continue to a-a-act like there's nuh-nothing wrong, I feel uncomfortable and a-at times, even d-disgusted!" he snaps, tugging at his hair a bit as he looks away from Richie.
Richie remains silent.
"I c-can understand if you d-don't want to d-date me. I'm a freak and I h-have learned to a-accept it."
"You're not a freak!" was the vehement reply. When Bill looks back, Richie had his arms crossed against his chest and a frown on his lips.
Bill sighs, "Richie—"
"No Bill," Richie interrupts, "Just because foreplay makes your skin crawl and the fact that your dick doesn't get up, doesn't mean that you're a freak."
"Beep beep Richie." Bill interjects, out of habit, but he couldn't help but smile.
"Bill, seriously, there's nothing wrong with you. Unusual, maybe, but I don't can't say or know because I myself haven't been in a relationship so I can't judge, but if those people really had liked you as much as they said they did, then they wouldn't had a problem with waiting or understanding that it's not all about sex."
"It's sounds fuh-funny coming from y-you Trashmouth." Bill teases even as he felt a pinprick sensation in his eyes, his breath hitching, "Especially with h-how much y-y-you talk about your dick."
"Well what can I say Big Bill? I have many layers." Richie says with a smirk.
Bill snorts.
"Now that we got that out of the way, answer me honestly. Would you, Bill Denbrough, go out on a date with me?"
Bill licks his bottom lip, eying Richie with uncertainty, "W-wouldn't it b-b-bother you that we can't h-have sex now or probably n-never?"
"Bill, I fell in love with you before I even knew what sex was. I believe I can handle it."
Bill could only stares at his best friend with shock and awe.
"Besides," Richie smirks, "That's what I got my hands for."
"Beep beep Richie!" Bill snaps as he tries to ignore the blush overtaking his face.
Richie sticks his tongue out before waiting for Bill's response.
Bill looks at his best friend, the young man he was in love with, searching his face to see if there was any uncertainty or lie in those earnest eyes. When he saw none, he began to hope.
Sliding towards him, he grabs Richie's hand in a firm yet loving grip, looking up to stare at him in the eyes, smiling as he felt Richie intertwining their fingers together.
"Yeah Richie, I'll b-be honored to g-go out with you."
Richie's response was a wide, toothy grin which in turn made him grin back. When Richie raises a hand to cradle the side of his face in his palm, he lets himself nuzzle into the hand.
"A kiss to seal the deal?" while the tone was playful, those warm brown eyes were serious.
Instead of responding, Bill closes the distance himself, raising his free hand and curling his fingers through Richie's soft curls.
Oh how he had longed to run his fingers through his best friend, now boyfriend's, hair…
He lets out a pleased hum when he feels those slim fingers running through his hair before settling back on his face and caressing his cheekbone.
When they pull back to catch their breath, Richie stares at him with wonder.
"Wow Big Bill, if that's how you kiss, then I don't know how those people dumped your ass!"
"Beep beep Richie." Bill says in an amused and giddy manner.
"But then again, I'm happy they did," Richie's eyes glisten brightly, "Because now you're mine."
Bill smiles widely, feeling high and breathless and so happy before bringing their foreheads together, their noses touching and sharing the same breath as they look at each other in the eyes.
"And you are mine as well." Bill breathed.
"Damn straight!"
And for the first time in almost a whole year, Bill laughs.
He finally found his heart mate…
Fin