Chapter Text
“Hurry up Tozier, we’re gonna be late.”
“Look Eds, the only thing I do quickly is fuck your mom.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Wham bam thank you ma’am,” Richie teased.
The two seventeen year olds were standing in Richie Tozier’s bedroom which was covered in band shirts and dirty pairs of jeans. Eddie Kaspbrak crossed his arms impatiently. It was the first day of winter break and the Loser’s Club had decided to meet at their old hideout. Once a utopia for childhood summers, it was now an escape for listening to the radio, drinking, and smoking.
“Shut up trashmouth. Now would you please hurry up?” Eddie eyed Richie petulantly. The taller boy, by four inches to be exact, was nose deep in his closet. Richie shuffled through his clothes, making sure to take his sweet time. Richie liked to mess with everybody. It was his thing. But no one was quite as satisfying to annoy as Eddie, who had a pretty short temper and a quick wit.
“I don’t know why you’re hurrying, Bev said to get there at 11.” Richie settled on a sweatshirt, opting for the warmest option.
“Bull shit. She said 10,” Eddie argued. Richie rolled his eyes; it was impossible to tell Eddie he was wrong. He pulled his Damn Yankees t-shirt over his head and threw it across the room to join a pile of others. The boy shivered and reached for the sweatshirt, the winter chill palpable even indoors. He normally wouldn’t undress in front of anyone. He was a little thinner than average with no real muscle definition. He hated the dark hair that spread up from his pubic area onto his stomach. It’s as if part of his body was already a man while other parts reeked of puberty. Richie always thought he looked a little odd; with his mop of black hair, his prominent nose, not to mention his giant fishbowl glasses and big lips. He just felt awkward; so did most boys his age he assumed. But Eddie was his best friend; if he thought Richie looked weird, he wouldn’t say anything.
Eddie’s eyes flitted from the door to Richie’s naked torso at least ten times. He felt his chest get warm and red as he struggled to avert his gaze. He always thought Richie’s body was attractive. At least to him. Eddie didn’t grow much hair, so Richie seemed manly and sexy to him. Growing up he figured he was just jealous of Richie’s body…but in the past few months he realized jealousy wasn’t quite the emotion he was feeling when he saw his best friend out of his clothes.
“Like what you see?” Richie teased, noticing the shorter boy looking at him.
“What I want to see, asshole, is your butt out the door. Let’s go!” Eddie deflected. Richie huffed and pulled the sweatshirt over his head. He spun and linked his arm with Eddie’s.
“Fine, fine. Well my good chap shall we partake in a midnight stroll?” he asked in a subpar British impersonation.
They walked down the stairs and pulled on their coats, scarves, and hats. Derry winters were no joke, and at least one person died of hypothermia every year. The hideout was equipped with tons of blankets and a fire pit; but the walk there and back could be frigid. Richie smiled to himself as he watched Eddie wrap himself up in multiple layers. He had on what could only be described as a parka, complete with a thick scarf that could fully wrap around his neck and mouth three times. He looked like that little kid from A Christmas Story.
Cute, cute, cute, Richie thought. This wasn’t a new thought either. Ever since Richie was thirteen he possessed a type of infatuation with the shorter boy. When he was younger he thought they were strong feelings built out of friendship. Of course he wanted to spend every moment with Eddie, he was fun and smart. That was normal, right? But as they aged, hormones destroyed his ability to rationalize his feelings; Richie came to the conclusion that he was in love with his best friend. And Eddie had grown into a handsome young man; especially once he started swimming.
Sonia Kaspbrak had read some article about how swimming was the best exercise for kids with asthma; so she allowed Eddie to join the swim team. This resulted Eddie’s lean body being carved with muscles. Not a bad view in Richie’s opinion…not bad as the subject of some wet dreams either. He was hopelessly in love with this dork; with his thick brunette hair and deep brown eyes.
“Alright marshmallow man, let’s head out,” Richie prompted. They walked out into the cold, the air sharp as a knife.
“Mother fucker,” Eddie hissed behind his scarf.
“Only yours, Eds,” Richie responded, leaping away from Eddie who attempted to slap him.
“Beep beep, Richie,” he pouted, the cold bringing down his mood. They walked in relative silence for a bit, their path illuminated by a full and bright moon. It was a bit of a way to walk, but Richie had gotten his car taken away for a month after his mother caught him smoking pot in his dad’s work shed. They wouldn’t have fit their childhood bikes anymore, so walking was the only way to go. Richie turned onto Neibolt Street, Eddie following him reluctantly.
No one in the Loser’s Club enjoyed walking down this street, especially not by that house. But it was a great short cut, and Richie’s large teeth were already chattering noisily. Richie refused to look at the row of houses, but he made sure to walk between them and Eddie. Something about the house gave him a sense of dread; and not just because of what had happened there years beforean . It was more like impending doom type feeling; like of something that had not yet happened. They stayed silent; Eddie wouldn’t have been able to speak if he wanted to. He reached out to grab Richie’s gloved hand with his mitten, squeezing with an almost painful force. Richie kept his hand in Eddie’s; not releasing it until they were another block away from the house.
“Jesus señor, you could crush a peso with that grip,” Richie exclaimed in a shitty Spanish accent.
“After all these years, your voices never seem to get any better,” Eddie chuckled.
“Sir, I’m wounded” Richie exclaimed, grabbing at his heart. They were close to the hideout now; they just had to cross the kissing bridge and walk a few yards into the woods. Richie felt his face burn hot despite the nipping wind. He had written his and Eddie’s initials on the fence in a fit of teenage angst and longing. They had passed the bridge multiple times, but each time he feared Eddie would finally notice and put the pieces together.
Eddie sighed quietly; he remembered the day he first saw the R & E carved into the wood. Sometimes he liked to imagine that they stood for him and Richie. Most likely though, it was for some jackass named Rodney and his girlfriend Eleanor or some shit like that. Still, imagining the former made his heart swell and filled his stomach with comforting warmth.
“No sign of Bev’s car or Mike’s moped. Told you it was at 11.”
“Fuck off shit-for-brains. Mike lives across town and Beverly’s late for everything.” Eddie straddled over the fence and landed firmly on the other side. The two of them began walking through the crunching leaves to the hideout. “Ben, Bill, and Stan are probably already starting a fire.”
“Bet you five bucks we’re the only one’s there,” Richie challenged.
“You gotta deal, Tozier.”