Street Fighter

Eddie was getting sick of this routine. He wanted to win for once, just to see the focused, smug look drop from Richie's annoying face. Eddie knew that in pretty much any other game, he could beat Richie every few times, but all morning he had slaved away over this god awful machine in hopes of one simple triumph. With one final blow from Richie's favorite character, Eddie stepped back in disgust, reading the 'Continue? P2' screen. Richie laughed as he turned to Eddie, only fueling an anger in Eddie that was hard to control.

"So, Eds, you want to try again? I think you're almost as good as your mother is at…"

"Shut the fuck up, Richie. I don't want to play anymore."

Eddie knew that Richie had usually taken his outbursts in stride, blowing them off and just hanging around until Eddie's internal fury had subsided. However, today he looked afraid when Eddie lost it. Eddie was shocked to see the change, but quickly realized why Richie looked afraid when he turned around. It was Henry Bowers, right behind him along with Butch Higgins and another boy Eddie didn't recognize. Yet, in the split second he had tried to run, Eddie understood that Richie was only looking at the blonde stranger with fear, not the huge bullies that had tormented them for years. The blonde boy's voice was just as twisted as Henry's when he sneered at them.

"If it isn't momma's boy and four-eyes!"

Eddie was grabbed by Bowers while Butch grabbed Richie. Eddie was beyond nervous about what they planned on doing to them, but Richie seemed angry. Eddie silently pleaded with his friend to control his kicking and screaming as the Bowers trio shoved and tossed them into the alley by the Paramount.

"LET US GO! WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG!"
"Oh, yeah? I never beat you up for being a fairy towards my cousin here, Tozier, so I might as well hit your other little boyfriend to teach you what happens to your kind."

In a split second, Eddie realized that Richie was never angry, only mortified. The little, fragile boy saw his best friend, who he had always seen only as the trashmouth, the clumsy kid who never stopped talking, as a broken shadow of who he normally was. If Eddie could have, he wouldn't paused time and ran to Richie, giving him a hug and swearing that it was okay. Of course, having a huge fist slam into Eddie's head made it hard for him to focus on anything that would help either of them. As he laid there on the filthy concrete, his vision and hearing blurred for a few seconds as blood dripped down the side of his face.

"FUCK YOU! I'LL SHOW YOU FUCKING STREET FIGHTER!"

Eddie's mind didn't know how to register sound clearly yet, but it caught three loud hits, the sound of glass and more voices, and then footsteps going farther away. His view of the clear, blue sky that held huge fluffy clouds felt ironic. Everything looks so nice in Derry, but nothing actually is. Richie's face came into Eddie's view as the ringing finally stopped. Eddie didn't even worry about himself though. He saw Richie had a bloody nose, no glasses, and he was sobbing violently.

"Eddie! Eddie, p-please, are you okay?!"
Eddie wasn't okay because he knew Richie wasn't. Instead, Eddie scrambled up into a tight, desperate hug with his lanky friend. He knew that Richie's white Hawaiian shirt would be bloody. He knew that his entire face ached and he could get an infection if he didn't clean it. Yet, nothing that he normally would've done felt as right as that moment did. Richie never expected it, going stiff as Eddie's small arms wrapped around him. Yet he caved to the worry that his tiny companion extruded. Richie felt his sobs grow stronger as Eddie nuzzled into his chest and Eddie knew that Richie wasn't in pain. A best friend could tell what was hurt and what was damage; this was deep, deep damage. The easiest way for Eddie to tell? Richie hadn't used a nickname for him.

"Richie, I'm okay, so let's go someplace safe from Bowers and clean up? My mom's gonna kill me if I come home hurt again. Are you okay to get our bikes and go to the clubhouse?"

Eddie figured that Richie was mad that they had been them up for no reason when it was such a nice day, but the depressed look on Richie's face as he pushed out of the hug and nodded said otherwise. The next fifteen minutes were silent between the two, something that had never happened in their years of friendship, as no matter how Richie was feeling, he usually never stopped speaking. They dropped their bikes by the entrance and crawled down the ladder into the clubhouse to find it empty. Richie instantly sat down on the edge of the hammock, rubbing his bleeding nose where his glasses had been smashed into his face. Eddie had never seen Richie get so bloody by Bowers, because he usually got quiet and dodged the nasty bully. Eddie walked over to the shelves they had, grabbing the tin of medical supplies he kept down there.

"Hey Eddie?"

The small, quiet voice that spoke didn't remind Eddie of the person he had been furious at just half an hour ago. Eddie came back over, taking out a clean cotton pad and putting hydrogen peroxide on it to clean out Richie's wounds. The part of Eddie that didn't want to know why Richie was so impacted by this was controlling his body, even if his mind wanted to know more than anything how to soothe his friend.

"Yeah, Richie?"

Richie's hand wrapped gently around Eddie's, stopping him from cleaning the wound and forcing him to look into his eyes as his voice whispered.

"I meant to tell you."

Eddie had been so focused on everything in the present; he had to fix Richie and then himself and get them home, or at least to the Tozier house, without getting caught by parents who would question the injuries. Now that Richie had forced Eddie to think back to the beating and question things, he didn't understand what Richie could mean. Bowers had called them some names, told Richie off for something to do with his cousin and...oh. Eddie's eyes locked with Richie, silently asking him if Bowers was saying something more than just being the asshole who teased like usual. Richie just looked at his ripped up shoes and nodded slowly.

"Richie...it's okay. Can...Rich, just look at me?"

His dark eyes came up from the ground in a way that made it look like slow motion. Without glasses and his joking facade to hide behind, Eddie thought Richie looked older and hotter. Like he was one of the actors in a teen movie about outcasts. Eddie had known for a long time that Richie's joking about his mother and being a lady's man was true, but he'd never imagined that this was why those rambles meant nothing. Yet, Eddie knew what he really felt about that topic, even if his mother would say it was sin and would give him some kind of fatal sexual disease.

"You have nothing to ever be ashamed about. I'm proud of you for admitting it to yourself, even if you weren't ready to share with anyone more, you took the biggest step. I'll always be here for you, Richie, always."

Eddie had no idea why he was crying, but Richie's tears had made him beyond sympathetic. Richie lunged forwards in the same awkward, needy way Eddie had earlier, and Eddie held onto him in a warm grip. After a few minutes, and once their tears had dried, Richie sat back and let Eddie clean up his face. After Eddie finished up with Richie, he pulled out a pair of black, thick-rimmed glasses and placed them carefully on Richie's face.

"Eds, where did you get these?!"

"I went out and bought them. I know you too well, because I figured you might break a pair."

Eddie didn't know why he wanted to, but he wanted to slide his hand into Richie's. He wanted to hold each other like they had done already that day. He figured it was the adrenaline finally crashing out of his system now that the fight and the fear were truly gone for the day. Only, when Richie reached into his back pocket, revealing a secret to which Eddie had no reply, his mind snapped the pieces into place. He wasn't so supportive of Richie's sexuality because he loved him as friends; he actually loved Richie as much as he'd ever loved anyone in his life. And his hand didn't stop Richie when he leaned in for a kiss. And his hands didn't stop holding Richie's as they walked in the door to Richie's house to tell his parents about them. And his heart never stopped beating fast when he looked at Richie's smirking face. Because he felt love for once in a town that had always broken people down.

And because Richie had pulled out a small, blue inhaler with a heart carved into it.