~.~
"Fuck you." Richie whines, pouting.
Beverly laughs, and her eyes glitter as she pops the last sweet, so victoriously, into her mouth.
"You wish." she grins, leaning back on the swing as the others laugh at Richie's predictably, playfully, outraged face.
It's after the laughter that he tells them, arranging the words awkwardly in the brief silence, the initial impulse to joke kind of failing him. It's really too cold in the Clubhouse now, he thinks. It'll snow soon. It might snow today, but they're all there, in their coats, in their place. Richie loves them all, and he proves it in his next breath.
"Gay guys don't make wishes about fucking girls."
~.~
Summer sunlight streams through the hatch and paints a golden light around the Clubhouse, glittering with the promise of the weeks that stretch before them, school finally done once more. It glows in Stan's hair, it makes the ground warm to sit on. It kisses Eddie's face and makes his hair glint with golden threads of red. Bev looks like something mythical where she lies below the hatch, soaking up the touch of the sky, her hair aflame.
"Looks like I wi-in!" Stan singsongs, snatching the last of Richie's cigarettes from the centre of the crate they're using to play poker.
"Fuck you." Richie slouches on his hands, looking like the dejected expression is only a little bit real.
Stan grins, the expression as small on his face as it usually is, but then his lips curl a touch.
"You wish." he says primly.
"Stan!"
Eddie's voice is shocked, a little screechy still, like he can't believe Stan just did that. But when he glances nervously to Richie, ready to undo Stan's words or race after him if he leaves, the other boy looks delighted. His eyes are brimming over with something awfully like real happiness, so Eddie doesn't say anything more, unable not to smile too. He takes the teasing they give him with good grace, rolling his eyes and refusing to admit he'd been insulted on the idiot's behalf.
~.~
"Oh my god, Rich, you were so shit at that!" Eddie laughs, holding his side and still catching his breath from their bikerace away.
Richie's answering expression is smug and wicked, and Eddie is already scowling when the words tumble gleefully from the taller boy's mouth.
"That's not what your mom said last night!"
"Fuck you, dickwad."
"Nah, fuck you." Richie tosses right back with a snort, bumping their shoulders as he bounds down the path ahead of him.
"You wish!" Eddie calls after him, their recent antics having filled him with boldness and adrenaline, joining the Loser's latest thing before he can chicken out.
Richie stops dead between two trees, turning back to look at Eddie with an expression both surprised and amused, the grin growing and glowing in his eyes. Eddie's going to miss the endless afternoons with him when school starts next week, kicking aside autumn leaves as he follows him to meet the others at the Quarry.
~.~
"Seriously dude, fuck you." Richie complains, sulking in the opposite corner of the sofa as Eddie bites into the last pop-tart.
Eddie looks over, studying the morose expression. It's been a rough day. Getting older hasn't stopped the bullying. Despite only ever having told the Losers, Richie still gets shit for who he is. As though they can smell it on him, or read it in his face. If anything, it's gotten worse. Richie needs cheering up, and Eddie knows what always works.
"You wish." he snorts, already intending to break of the unbitten half to share with him.
"Quit reminding me." Richie answers, and Eddie nearly drops it.
When he looks at him, Richie's gaze is fixed on the TV screen, still slouched where he'd dropped in a whine when Eddie swept up the last pop-tart, but his face looks less sullen. Eddie's heart is racing, rushing hard in his ears as his brain seems to freeze for a second and then scramble, his thoughts scattering. He feels heat crawl up his neck.
"Wh-what?"
Is it just him, or does Richie look too relaxed? Like he's posing? Is that just hope talking? Eddie swallows hard, nearly choking not the mouthful of sharp pop-tart. Richie tips his head a little in his direction, like he's too engrossed in the movie to actually move his gaze, but is paying attention. Eddie watches the light of the TV dance across dark curls and feels his stomach lurch.
"What?"
"You… reminding you?"
"Yeah." Richie answers, turning away again, still not looking at him, "Quit reminding me I'm gay."
His voice isn't annoyed. It isn't anything, and that's what's so weird about it. Eddie stares at him for a minute longer, and surely Richie must feel his gaze, but the movie plays on and his friend makes no indication that he's doing anything other than watching it.
Which is double weird. Because Richie can't sit still a whole movie, normally. He has all these habits, everything from bouncing one knee to giving Eddie a running commentary every five minutes. It used to bug the hell out of Eddie going to the Aladdin when they were younger, because he missed half the movie because of Richie.
Not that he isn't still bugged by those habits, but he realised last year he likes being bugged by Richie. Not that he'd tell him, obviously. Ever since Richie told them his darkest secret, Eddie's found he likes it even more, feeling special that Richie saves all his best material for him.
Eddie looks down at the broken pop-tart, and decides. He shuffles sideways till he's next to his best friend, their knees brushing as he settles. Richie doesn't move, doesn't acknowledge him, but maybe he's just feeling vulnerable. Usually he'd drape an arm over the back of the sofa behind Eddie. Eddie really likes when he does that.
Eddie is aware that he's a little in love with Richie Tozier, but he tries his best not to make things weird between them. He can't lose the best friend he has, even though he has five others whom he loves almost as much. Richie's always been different. It just took Eddie way too long to realise why, because he's always just labelled all of it Richie.
When he places the pop-tart half on Richie's left thigh, Richie finally looks sideways at him. Eddie gives him a small smile. Richie's eyes are dark and kind of nervous and Eddie wants to kiss him.
"Sorry." he says instead, and Richie's gentle smile is instant, turning back towards the TV.
He lifts the peace offering with his right hand, throwing his left over the back of the sofa behind Eddie when he takes a bite. If Eddie leans back into the heat, neither of them points it out.
~.~
"Fuck off, Richie, that's not what I said." Eddie snarls, feeling the tears burning bright in his own eyes at the thought.
"I can read between the lines, Kaspbrak. Just fucking say it."
"Say what!?" Eddie yells right back, desperation edging into his voice, "I have no idea where the fuck you got this idea, Richie, but I don't think that. I've never thought that!"
"So you say," Richie starts, his voice suddenly wavering and cracking, and Eddie feels the fire in his belly leaking away at the look on his friend's face.
"Rich…"
Richie pushes his hand away and glares at him.
"I don't need your fucking pity, best you don't touch a faggot, huh? Wouldn't want you to get a disease!"
He turns and paces away, and even though Eddie calls after him when he follows, the taller boy ignores him. Eddie's heart is beating irregularly. His whole body feels like it's in pain, and he knows it isn't, not real pain, not physical pain. But everything aches to have Richie mad at him, to be fighting, and Eddie runs after him as his tears spill over.
"Richie! Richie please!"
Richie's legs are longer, but somehow Eddie catches him, grabbing his arm hard and yanking him back. Richie whirls fast and shoves him hard, and Eddie's head hits the tree hard, stars exploding behind his eyes.
"Eddie! Shit!"
The world is wobbling a little, and someone is touching him, cool fingers probing his face, his hair, the back of his head, retreating when they touch the sore spot. He blinks, watching the image swirl and right itself like a bad jigsaw. Richie's face looks down at him, eyes dark and full of tears behind his glasses, his skin red and flushed from their fight. He's still beautiful, and it takes a whole lot of Eddie's brain to stop himself from saying it.
From this close he can smell Richie, the cologne he likes, the smell of washing powder because Eddie finally convinced him to put something clean on this week. He smells like something musky, and the dust of the Clubhouse they're almost too old for, and soda from the movie they snuck into. Eddie's breath hitches as he looks up into worried eyes, and he feels his chest ache.
Richie is babbling, his fingers darting back and forward, but it takes Eddie ages to really come to, confused and sluggish.
"Eddie I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I- shit, I didn't think I'd shoved you so hard and I- Shit, Eddie, Eddie, I'm sorry, I-"
Eddie reaches up to touch Richie's cheek, brushing aside stripes of tears with his thumb.
"It's fine, I'm fine, Rich, I'm fine."
Richie swallows, blinking those huge, huge eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"Get me up," Eddie just says instead, finding a smile, showing him it's okay, "get me up."
He does, hauling Eddie to his feet and tugging him close before the shorter boy can draw a full breath, filling his nose with that same smell. Eddie laughs, squeezing him back, fingers tangling in dark curls.
"Hey, I'm fine, dude, it's not like you killed me."
When Richie draws away, his face is all funny. Eddie knows the feeling, and when he meets Richie's eyes again he thinks maybe he can recognise that flicker that's hiding there. His blood thrums under his skin.
The sun's gone by now, when they fall into step together again.
"You don't care that I'm gay, do you." Richie eventually says, when they've walked further, the evening air starting to grow cool on their skin.
It's not a question, because he's already convinced. But Eddie will reassure him anyway.
Eddie takes his hand, something he hasn't done in a long, long time, since they started growing up. Since he started growing up. Since he fell for Richie. Since he found out Richie was just like him. Only Richie was brave enough to say it.
Richie squeezes back when Eddie laces their fingers, and Eddie returns the grateful smile with one of his own when he answers.
"Course I don't." he answers, and his friend's face is pretty and warm in the dark.
"I just… Derry gets to me, you know?" Richie says, biting his lip and looking away.
"I know. It gets to me too. We all hate it. You're not alone."
Maybe that's what does it, because Richie's next breath sounds a little bit like a sob, and suddenly he's reaching for Eddie and holding him close, and his tears are soaking through Eddie's hair and his collar, and he's rubbing Richie's back.
"I know, I know, but sometimes I- Sometimes I still feel…"
"I know," Eddie whispers, pressing his cheek into Richie's speaking his words against his neck, "I know. But you're not. I got ya. The others got you too. We're here, we'll always be here."
His heart pounds, hard and fast and painful, and he knows he needs to say it.
"I'll always be here."
When the sky is indigo, Richie pulls away, scrubbing his eyes hard and looking sheepish. His gaze dances around like it can't settle, but Eddie knows it's only because Richie feels exposed. He takes his hand again, tugging him to keep walking. The others are going to think they're not coming, waiting by the Quarry with whatever Bev and Ben have managed to smuggle, to drink and swim in the nighttime.
Eddie's mum will kill him come morning, but he doesn't care. He rarely cares anymore, and it's working. She's shrinking, like Pennywise did. The stronger Eddie grows with the aid of his friends, the smaller his tyrant of a mother becomes. He's not so scared of her anymore. In a year, he'll be gone. He doesn't know where yet, he's secretly hopeful Richie will be there, but he knows he won't be staying.
"Bev's gonna know you've been crying," Eddie teases gently when they reach the clearing, kicking his shoes off by the others', five neat piles of clothes waiting for theirs to join them.
Richie rolls his eyes, moonlight dancing across the bridge of his glasses, when he shoots him a glance.
"Fuck you dude."
Eddie grins, tugging his t-shirt over his head.
"You wish."
Richie doesn't look at him, peeling off his jeans, but Eddie knows if he says it, everything will change. He just needs Richie to say-
"You wish."
Anticipation spikes through his veins. Eddie waits until he's tucked his socks into his trainers, ready to jump before Richie is, and he takes a tight breath.
"What if I do?"
Richie pauses, like he doesn't know he's heard properly, and Eddie's heart is thundering so hard he's sure Richie can hear it, can probably see it as it beats against the skin of his chest. He watches him take off his socks until there's nothing left to stall with. Richie meets his eye, and swallows, and Eddie knows already, he knows already. He raises an eyebrow, waiting. Richie looks… afraid, surprised, confused.
And… hopeful.
"Yeah?" he asks, when the moment has stretched for ages, when Eddie is starting to think that maybe he's wrong and Richie doesn't feel like he does.
"Yeah." Eddie breathes, and when Richie's face breaks into a slow, bashful grin, everything feels like it's in the right place.
Richie tries to reach for him but Eddie grins, feeling the joy on his face as he laughs and darts away, hearing Richie chase him as he races into the leap, the water of the Quarry waiting beneath to catch him.
They don't even have the chance to hide from their friends, because when Richie surfaces beside him he grabs hold of Eddie and pulls him through the water to kiss him wetly, his glasses held in one hand against the back of Eddie's head and his other sliding around Eddie's waist. Eddie buries both hands in the dark tangle of Richie's hair like he's wanted to for two years, and kisses him back.
The other Losers holler and whoop at them from the shoreline, and the teasing is relentless through the night, but Eddie is too happy to care.
~.~