AN: Warning: swearing. That is all. :)
Secrets
The stout woman dragged the teenager all through the house, finally stopping at the kitchen sink. It was spotless, of course; there was no sign of it ever being in use except for the tacky soap dispenser and a tightly folded towel beside it. She didn't bother barking any directions and moved his arm like it was raised for a question. She made a ring around his bicep with two stubby fingers.
"You will wash to here." She finally let go of him and looked to have been speed walking away to the laundry room. It took Richie a couple of tries, but figured out the weird dial on top of the dispenser to reveal the spout. It was foam soap. Richie loved foam soap. He pumped it about ten times and lathered it on his other arm, then likewise to the other one. He rubbed it thoroughly into his arms until he got to where Mrs. K had touched him. He was so grumpy today, but today felt like the best day in a long while. He got to play with foam soap (oh-so bubbly) and he gets to see Eds. His Eds. He felt the big goofy smile on his face but didn't care, not one bit. The washing off bit could've went a little smoother but he was sure Mrs. K was about to scrub it to death anyway. He grabbed the towel and flipped it to its normal size, albeit a little dramatically. Just as he got to his second elbow she came back in with bright yellow gloves and a laundry basket. She extracted the towel, as if it were toxic waste, and dropped it into the basket. "You may see him," she drawled unwillingly and retreated back from which she came.
Eds.
He took the steps two at a time until he reached a closed door. Eddie's door. He busted into the room, hoping to be yelled at by his favorite person for not knocking. But no yelling ensued.
"Eds?," he questioned the room, not registering why he was almost whispering. He saw an unmoving lump in the bed of his friend and inched closer. As he reached the side of the bed he could see his Eddie, sleeping like a rock. His eyes and nose looked red and puffy. He was curled up so cutely into his pillow and covers that Richie only stared in awe.
He brushed off some tissues and sat on the foot of the bed. After a while of staring at the cutest human being to ever be in Derry, Richie inched his hand on top of the covers to find Eddie's feet. He found the ankle first, then the calf, then the knee. He knew to stop there, lest he'd be marked a creep and, of course, out of respect for Eddie. Oh, how he'd missed Eddie. How he wished to talk with him. Why not?
He squeezed the knee in his hand. Richie was rewarded with shuffling and an eventual groan. He even got a glare, although Eddie's eyes were closed.
"Wha-t?," Eddie whined sleepily.
"Aw~ Is someone actually sick~?" The boy sat up quickly, immediately regretting it.
"How did... how did you get in here?" He was shocked to see his friend, understandable since he didn't even think Richie of all people would visit him. Especially without his mother putting up a fight...
"The window obviously," Richie scoffed as though he'd been climbing through Eddie's window since he could talk. The window was closed. Richie, Eddie's Richie at least, would never be that courteous as to close it after he got in. At this point, he didn't care.
He flopped back on the bed and stretched, softly pushing Richie with his feet. Richie giggled and wiggled his fingers threateningly close to the soles of the other boy's feet.
"I will end you," Eddie warned.
"Su-re you will, Eds." Eddie groaned at the dreaded nickname and didn't bother with another "don't call me that" that would fall on deaf ears. Richie looked at his annoyed-as-ever friend, smiling. Then remembered what his mother makes him take whenever he gets a fever. He slid up the bed, almost onto Eddie's lap, with worry etched into his soft, freckled face. Eddie's head made a thud as it collided with his headboard. Richie reached up with a tentative hand and lightly pressed Eddie's forehead with his palm. It felt warm. Which was understandable, considering the boy had just emerged from his sleeping cocoon, but Richie was still concerned. "Did you take any tylenol, you know, for a fever?"
Eddie blinked slowly at the out-of-character question. "Um, no," he replied softly. "It just feels like a head cold. Mother said it was a sinus infection and that I do need to take some-"
"DON'T FORGET TO TAKE YOUR PILL, EDDIE," a hoarse, low voice shouted up the stairs. Richie bursted into a fit of giggles.
"Funny how the world works," Eddie sighed, more to himself than anyone. Richie was still laughing, face turning a little pink from smiling so wide. "Wasn't that funny," he said to the trashmouth incredulously.
"SHE SOUNDED LIKE A FUCKING ZOMBIE!," he exclaimed, obviously not caring if he was overheard. Eddie gasped audibly at his words, smacking his hand in punishment. "Don't forget to take your pill, Eddie!," he used the most gravely voice he could muster and laughed again.
"Will there ever be a day when you'll leave my mom alone?"
"Nope," he had a smug, little smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes. Whether it was from laughing or a mischievous plan, Eddie couldn't tell.
"Of course not," he sighed. He flopped down again on his bed, staring at the ceiling, until Richie started groaning. Eddie looked over to him, showing the maximum amount of annoyed on his features. He was rocking side to side slowly, eyes unfocused, and his hands reaching out in front of him. "Zombies don't groan, dumbass. You look more like Frankenstein." Richie groaned more obnoxiously and moved his hands to Eddie's face, almost poking his cheek. Eddie swatted his hands away before he made contact, giggling despite himself.