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Richie hasn't seen any of the Losers for three weeks when Eddie comes hurtling into the arcade like Road Runner.
"Rich? Rich!?" Eddie yells, when he spots him, running into Richie and hanging off his arm like a limpet.
"Jesus, what do you want?" Richie snaps, shrugging him off, eyes fixed on the screen. He's been playing for so long his eyes burn from the lights, but he doesn't look away, stubbornly keeping his eyes off Eddie.
"It got Bill, Richie," Eddie says, so frantic, Richie's sure he misheard him. He wants to have misheard him.
"What?" he says, turning away from his game. He's lost already, his coordination thrown off by Eddie's weight on him.
"It," Eddie repeats with wide, scared eyes, "It got Bill."
Fuck.
Richie's strung tight like a wire when they finally find Bill, floating above them in the hell pit of Neibolt.
"Bill!" he screams.
"Holy shit! Bill!" Eddie shrieks, when he sees him, backing up and into Beverly.
"Come on guys, help me get him down!" Mike yells. They all help tug Bill down to the surface, and when they do, Richie's blood runs cold.
Bill's breathing and he has no injuries, but his eyes are a milky white, eyes unseeing. It's like he's a dead man walking, or in this case, floating.
Bev covers her mouth with her hand, shocked.
"What the fuck?" Stan whispers.
"What the fuck is wrong with him!?" Richie yells, getting more frantic. They risked their lives coming down here to save Bill. The real Bill, not this white eyed coma patient. "Bill!" Richie yells again, "Bill!" He shakes his shoulders but he doesn't answer.
It's so hopeless, Richie moans in despair, burying his head in his neck as he hugs him.
"It's the Deadlights," Ben says, making them all turn to look at him.
"The what?" Bev asks.
"It's because he looked at the deadlights," Ben says, excited now, like Bill is a cool subject in one of his books. It makes Richie wants to sock him. "I read about this in the library. It's how Pennywise paralyzes his victims before he, you know..."
"Thanks for the history lesson, Professor," Richie snaps, "But how do we get him back? Did your books tell you that? If they didn't, I don't care."
"They did actually," Ben says, "Not many people have done it, but there's a way."
"Oh thank God," Mike exhales.
"Ben, you're amazing," Bev says, punching his shoulder.
Ben smiles, his round cheeks glowing red at Beverly's praise.
"What is it?" Richie asks, "What do we gotta do?"
He thinks he'll do anything. This is Bill after all.
"Only an act of love can bring him back," Ben says.
"Like a hug?" Eddie asks, innocent.
"An act of love," Ben repeats more meaningfully, his eyebrows raised.
"Ok, what kind of act of love?" Richie asks, louder and more annoyed.
Ben doesn't answer but lets the implication sink in, their minds whirring until they're all gaping at him.
"Woah," Bev says slowly, dragging out the O. "I didn't think we'd need that much love to bring him back."
They all start talking at once.
"Are you fucking serious!?"
"Dude, what!?"
"I don't know what kind of sick shit you've been jerking it to in the library-" Richie says, suddenly angry, jabbing his finger into Ben's shoulder.
Usually he's always up for a dirty joke, but this isn't a dirty joke. It's Bill's life.
"Okay, all of you guys back off," Mike warns, shoving Richie back, "Let's just hear what he has to say."
"I'm not lying!" Ben insists, so flustered that Richie almost feels bad for yelling at him. "It's the only way to bring him back, he needs to..." Ben trails off.
He wriggles his hands, in a very poor imitation of fucking.
"Someone needs to make love to him," Ben finally says, phrasing it delicately, "And it needs to be someone that loves him."
"What kind of fucked up clause is that!?" Richie says, hysterical. Eddie looks like he's gonna pass out at the mention of 'making love'. Richie doesn't even think he's touched his own dick, despite all the shit he talks with Richie.
"We all love, Bill," Stan says, his calm logical voice breaking through the panic. "So, how does that work?"
"You cannot be serious, Stanley," Richie snaps, "What do you think, you're gonna do it? You gonna fuck Bill's ass for the team?"
Over my dead body, Richie thinks, the force of his own jealousy shocking him. Besides, Stan is a total pussy. If he tries, he'll probably go soft before he even gets his dick inside Bill.
"Shut up Richie, I never said that," Stan says, the backs of ears turning red. "I was just asking a question."
"The person who loves him the most," Ben says, undercutting them both, "Anyone who loves him would do but since we're all here, it'll work best with the person who loves him most."
"The person who loves him most, huh..." Mike says, his eyes tracking over all of them. Richie avoids eye contact when they linger on him for a moment too long.
They're all silent for a long moment, staring and sizing each other up.
"Well, it's gotta be Bev, right?" Eddie eventually says, "Who else?"
Richie tries to ignore how that makes the back of his neck burn, his teeth grinding down so he doesn't say anything stupid like, "What the hell would Bev know about loving Bill? She only really met him this summer. I've known him my entire life."
"I mean, I'll do it," Bev says, "But...I don't think that's me, Eddie." She looks past Eddie, meeting Richie's eyes over his head.
Damn it, Bev, Richie thinks. She's the smartest girl he knows, and she always proves it at the worst times. She knows it too, for how often he tells her.
When he first told her, Bev had thrown back, "Maybe you just don't hang out with enough girls, Tozier," along with a hot joint. They were cloistered together under the soda soaked benches at the Derry Stadium, backs to the hot cement and ankles hooked on the benches above.
"Nah," Richie said, the words dragged out of him slow like the smoke billowing from his nose. "You're just smart. Like...you see too much. And I'd know cause I can't see shit."
Then he'd made a funny face and they'd both laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
No one's laughing now.
Richie's mouth is screwed shut and Bev is looking at him like she knows. Fuck, maybe she's known all along.
Eddie snorts.
"What are you talking about, Bev? He's been following you around with heart eyes all summer. We're not blind."
"Sure, but heart eyes are one thing," Bev says, and it's like she's talking directly to Richie, instead Eddie, "Love is another."
She lets her words hang for a moment before ripping the bandaid off.
"I think Richie should be the one to do it," Bev says, so fast she doesn't give Richie a chance to run and hide.
He looks at her and feels betrayed.
The other Losers turn to look at Richie, but Richie thinks the only one that really looks shocked is Eddie, his tiny mouth hanging open so wide he could catch flies.
"That's what I was thinking too," Stan admits, voice low, like he thinks Richie might throw himself at him for saying so.
"Me too," Mike says, louder and more resolute, "It's gotta be Richie."
"I agree," Ben says, but his word doesn't count for much. They all know he's head over heels for Bev. Watching Bill rail her in a sewer would probably scar him for life.
"Are you guys fucking crazy!?" Eddie says, whirling to look at the lot of them.
"Yeah," Richie says, his voice shaking, "Are you fucking crazy, Bev?"
"Richie," Bev says, walking over and leaning in close so she can whisper to him, as private as she can be in a sewer where everything echoes. "Come on. I know you're embarrassed but this is Bill's life."
"What the fuck would you know about it!?" Richie snaps at her, loud enough that all of the Losers can hear, "You're a girl, Bev. You're allowed to love him like that."
He hears someone's breath hitch, maybe Stan or Eddie, and then Mike's heavy weight at his back, strong arms wrapping around him.
"And when have you ever cared about what you're allowed to do?" Bev asks slowly, voice sad but pointed. She leans forward and hugs him, just tall enough that Richie's head falls into the crook of her neck.
He can't see, but he can feel when the other Losers join the group hug, the Mike and Bev sandwich he's caught in getting heavy.
"We don't care, man," he hears Mike say into the crown of his head. His voice is so steady and sure, it makes Richie sniff back tears, getting snot into the crook of Bev's neck.
"I already knew," Ben admits.
"I mean I'm definitely fucking surprised," Eddie says. Someone must pinch him because he yelps, "Ow!"
"We don't care," Stan says, echoing Mike's words, "I've known for a long time, Rich, and I never cared. I have a deep respect for gay people."
"Oh, shut the fuck up, Stanley," Richie says, even though he's still crying, and it makes all of them laugh.
They fall apart like leaves, until Richie is standing there alone, staring up at Bill's blank-faced body while the others stare at him.
"Okay," Richie says, taking in a deep breath now that he knows what he has to do. "How am I gonna do this?"
"I'm guessing you know how gay sex works," Stan says, giving him a pointed look. Richie talks more about his dick than any of them.
"Yes, I have a dick, and a right hand," Richie says, before turning red. He technically just came out to them but it's still strange, admitting that he jerks off to gay sex in front of them.
"Okay," Mike says, herding them all like sheep to the sewer wall. "How about we just stay over here and...give you guys some privacy while you do it? So you're not nervous."
Richie nods stiffly, like it'll make a difference. The sewer is an echo chamber and they'll be able to hear everything, no matter how far away they are.
Bev follows Mike but not before mouthing, "You'll do great," at Richie with a small smile.
It would be funny, if Richie didn't feel like he was going to shit his pants.
He takes in another deep breath, before walking forward and tugging on Bill's hand so his feet touch the ground.
"Hey, Bill," Richie says, sarcastically, "Come here often?"
Bill doesn't answer and it makes Richie sour, any humour he had left dissipating.
He moves to push Bill down on to the sewer floor, then pauses before shucking off his Hawaiian shirt so at least he's not directly on it.
Bill goes down easily, nothing more than a doll with Bill's face at this point.
I hate this, Richie thinks, even as his dick chubs up at the sight of Bill open and under him.
If this was really Bill he'd complain about Richie getting to be on top and they'd probably roll around a few times before deciding on it. Like this, it's too easy. Bill doesn't even move when Richie unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down to his knees and then off his ankles.
Richie tugs his tightie whities down next, his heart racing when he sees Bill's soft pink dick.
He's flaccid because he's not really here, but it's not enough to kill Richie's own boner, his dick already making a wet spot on his own jeans.
He pulls his pants down to free it, wrapping his long fingers around his dick as he looks down at Bill.
"Shit," Richie says, only thinking of lubrication now.
He spits in his hand (He hears Eddie dry heave somewhere behind him at the sound.), and uses it to jerk his dick, gathering the precome and spit that's leaked until his hand is somewhat slick.
"This'll have to work," Richie mumbles, even though he's taut with anxiety.
What if it isn't enough? What if he hurts Bill?
He uses his come and spit slicked hand to reach between Bill's legs, pressing one finger against his soft hole.
It slides in with a bit of prodding and it's so hot and tight, Richie worries even more.
How is he gonna get his dick in there?
"Blood always does the trick," he hears the clown whisper, and then it cackles, so loud it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
His head whips around, but there's no clown in sight. Just their friends huddled against the sewer wall, trying not to look at them.
Richie turns back to Bill and swallows, trying to banish thoughts of blood and their friends and the fucking clown.
It's just the two of them.
"I love you, Bill," Richie admits, pressing a kiss to the soft curve of his jaw. He doesn't think he's noticed it before, how soft he is.
Bill doesn't move, his eyes still milky, blank, and unseeing and that just solidifies Richie's resolve.
He has to go through with this - for Bill.
Richie pulls Bill's hips down firmer till the head of his cock is jutting against the plush of his ass.
"Jesus Christ," he hears Eddie hiss, "You don't need to wine and dine him, just hurry up and do it already!"
"Sssh!" Stan hisses back, "Stop rushing him!"
Richie is too focused to snap at either of them, his hips quivering as he nudges the head of his dick up in between Bill's legs, until the tip is pressed right up against his hole.
He never imagined his first time like this. He always thought it would be between the legs of a girl, messy with slick because girls gushed and wore makeup. Not like this, with sewage sludge up to his elbows and on top of his limp best friend.
"But that's not what you wanted, is it Richie?" he hears Pennywise laugh. "You never wanted a pretty girl, not a wet cunt, or a pair of tits. You wanted this. To get inside Big Bill. What do you think Rich? If he was awake, do you think he'd stutter on your dick?"
No, Richie wants to cry, I didn't want this. I don't want this.
But that would be a lie.
"I'm sorry, Bill," Richie says, even though Bill can't hear him, "I'm so fucking sorry."
He almost sobs when he thrusts forward, the hot heat of Bill's body sucking him inside. It should be hard to get in, there's nothing slicking the way after all, but Richie sinks into him like butter and the sensation is so overwhelming he gasps and punches the wall next to Bill's head.
It has to be the clown doing this, he thinks. It's made Bill as easy to fuck as a girl.
He's still limp and unaware, but his hole flutters around Richie's dick, twitching when he rocks his hips delicately, just enough so his cock head threatens to pop out, only to sink back in again.
"F-Fuck," Richie hisses, fighting to stay still, even though Bill is still dead to the world. He doesn't want to hurt him, he'd never want to hurt him.
"But it would be so easy, Rich," Pennywise whispers, "Fuck him like you mean it. Fuck him into the ground. He won't know the difference, he's just a toy right now. A fucktoy for you to fuck however you like."
"No!" Richie yells, punching the cement next to Bill's head.
He hears someone turn back to look at them, startled, - at some point Mike had directed all of them to look at the wall, to give them some more privacy - but whoever it is gets turned back around based on Mike's footfall.
He gets it now, this is what the clown wants. It wants him to fuck Bill like a piece of trash. That's why Bill's hole is wet like a cunt and Pennywise is whispering in his ear.
There's no way that's gonna happen, you fucking clown, Richie thinks, He's not a toy, he's my friend.
Richie kisses Bill's cheek, gently, like he might have done if they were doing it in Richie's room and not a crack house.
"I'm gonna go faster now, okay?" Richie says, even though he knows Bill can't answer.
He hoists his thighs up until his knees are held up by Richie's arms, and starts to thrust shallowly, gasping like the virgin that he is every time he sinks into Bill's tight body.
For lack of better terms to describe it, its like stretching out a new pair of Nike's. Even with the clown magic wetting hm for Richie's dick, Bill is tight like a vice, but every jab of his dick opens him up just a little more.
Richie wishes he could look down and see it, his dick stretching Bill out, the hot rim flushed red and stretched wide around him.
Even if Bill can't feel it now, when he comes back he's gonna know, Richie thinks, the thought getting him so hot he thrusts in deeper than he ever has, his mouth falling open.
He's gonna be stretched out and confused, maybe dipping his finger into where Richie is fucking to find out why he's so loose and wet. When his hole clenches around nothing, he'll know he's been fucked.
Or maybe he'll know even before then, when Richie's come starts sliding down his thighs.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Richie moans, burying his head into Bill's neck, biting on the skin there so he doesn't yell again.
He pulls away, sits back on his haunches, and tries to calm down, but staring at Bill's body does just the opposite. His dick is hard now, the head gushing just like Richie imagined his phantom girlfriend might, and his thighs are soaked and flushed red. His hole probably looks the same too, but Richie thinks if he pushed his legs up to check he'd actually come right then and there.
And Richie would if Bill was Bill again, but he's still limp and blank eyed, so he sinks back into him with a long groan, his lax hole accepting Richie easily now.
Richie stretched him out after all.
He gets back to work, fucking shallowly into Bill and taking care not to go too deep, not to enjoy it too much. He's doing this for Bill's sake, he is. If he keeps telling himself that, maybe it'll become true.
The only sound in the sewer is the two of them, and that just makes it worse. Richie gasping and hissing with each thrust, and the slick wet sound of Richie opening Bill up, his balls slapping against his ass. It's fucking obscene, and better than any porno Richie's ever watched, even with the stench of the sewer filling his mouth.
Richie thinks he's about to come, when it finally works.
"R-Richie?" Bill suddenly says. Richie's hips stutter but they don't stop. Bill's milky eyes are fading into blue, the irises becoming clear, Bill finally appearing in them.
"Holy shit, it worked!" Richie pants, his thrusts quickening as a swell of happiness fills him.
"It fucking worked!" Richie gasps again, "I'm so glad you're back, man." He hugs Bill, but with him still inside him it's like he's caging him in, his cock finally bottoming out after all that lukewarm fucking.
"O-Oh!" Bill moans, "Richie!?" He sounds confused, but he's still pushing back onto Richie's dick, like he wants more even though though he's already stuffed half a size too full.
"Yeah?" Richie asks, "What is it?"
"You're..." Bill trails off, his pink mouth hanging open.
Richie expects him to say, "...fucking me, get the fuck off, asshole!" or maybe just to kick him in the stomach, but Bill surprises them both.
"Y-you're too big," Bill whines. He covers his own mouth with both hands, like he's shocked at what he said but he can't stop talking. "Y-you're so big, Richie, w-what the fuck!?"
Ok, Bill talking about his big dick is definitely doing it for him.
"What did you think I was all talk?" Richie says, suddenly cocky now that he has Bill looking up at him and not a blank eyed doll. "I told you guys you were lucky we weren't measuring dicks."
"F-fuck," Bill says, "fuck!" when Richie really starts plowing into him, pushing Bill up with each thrust. He wants Bill to talk more, to tell him about how Richie's too big some more. It's exhilarating after fucking the pale husk of him, just a wet hole and dead eyes.
"What was that?" Richie mocks, "Is my dick too big for you?"
He wants Bill to say it, or better yet, stutter it.
"N-no," Bill says, his jaw settling into that stubborn line that drives Richie crazy. It's not soft or easy at all, it's all Bill.
"You sure?" Richie asks, and then he really starts giving it to him, fucking him so fast, his hips look like a faded blur where he's fucking Bill stupid.
Bill doesn't answer just like before, but this time he's making high fucked out, "uh, uh, uh," noises so Richie doesn't mind.
"If I'm too big, I can stop," Richie teases, and he moves like he's going to, but Bill's legs trap him there, stopping him from moving.
"N-no, don't stop," Bill gasps, "D-don't stop, Richie." Richie's name turns into a keen when Richie trades speed in favour of force, fucking Bill slower, but deeper. Going balls deep and keeping his dick there for a few moments so Bill can really feel every inch stretching him.
"Feels good?" Richie asks, genuinely seeking an answer. This is both of their first times after all, he wants it to be good. Bill crying on his dick is a good indication, but he wants him to say it.
"Y-yeah, feels good. Feels good, Rich," Bill confirms, and then he's kissing him, if you can call it that.
Their mouths are both open and wet, the kiss desperate and sloppy like a poor imitation of Richie fucking him.
It's also Richie's first kiss.
"Fuck, Bill," Richie moans into his mouth, and then he's speeding up again, chasing his own release.
It's so abrupt, Bill starts squeaking into Richie's mouth, startled.
When he comes inside, it's with Bill staring up at him in shock, like he can't believe what Richie is doing to him. Richie doesn't look away, jabbing his hips in deep so Bill feels Richie creaming inside him.
"Y-you, you-" Bill starts, but he stops when Richie's dick spurts again, the last of it making him bite his lip so he doesn't moan.
"Come on, you liked it," Richie says, rolling his eyes.
He reaches between Bill's legs and grabs his dick, and that's all it takes for Bill to cry out, his hole seizing up around Richie's soft dick. He hisses at the sensation, oversensitive, but holds Bill still as he cries and writhes back onto Richie's dick.
Eventually he goes limp, his head falling back on to the floor, big blues staring up at Richie.
I wish it had started this way, Richie thinks, remembering the white eyed Bill that he laid out on the sewer floor.
"Hey, Bill," Richie says, leaning down to kiss him chastely. Everything is chaste after what they just did. "Come here often?"
Bill's brow furrows and Richie's worried he's about to burst into tears, or maybe hit him, but he starts to laugh.
Richie stares down at him in surprise because then he starts to laugh too, the ridiculousness of the situation setting in.
"They're laughing," he hears Eddie whisper. "Why are they laughing? Does that mean they're done?"
"Hey, are you guys done!?" Mike yells.
"Yeah, yeah, we're done, Mikey," Richie yells back, "Just give us a minute."
He helps Bill to his feet, smirking a bit when he has to hold on to Richie to stay upright because his legs are shaking to hard.
"S-shut up," Bill stutters.
"I didn't say anything!" Richie says, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. He wraps them around Bill's waist again when he almost falls from the lack of support.
His Hawaiian shirt is a lost cause so he bunches it up and uses it to wipe the come and slick from his dick, and then Bill's thighs.
It doesn't help much though because Bill is leaking.
"L-leave it," Bill says, flushing a pretty red. "I-it's n-not gonna do much."
"Obviously," Richie says, "I put a load in you."
"R-Richie, can you j-just-" Bill shoves him away from him and looks like he wants to fight. Richie wishes he would because he still owes Bill for the shiner he gave him three weeks ago.
"Are you guys done or what!?" Stan almost shrieks.
"We're done, we're done! Jeez, don't get your panties in a twist!" Richie yells.
The others come over to them, taking turns at hugging Bill. They're all various shades of red and avoid meeting Richie's eyes, with the exception of Stan who looks like he wants to kill him.
"I cannot believe you made me listen to that," Stan hisses. He's redder than the both of them, like he's the one that had sex. "Ben told you to make love to him, not reenact a porno."
Richie preens, proud of himself, but Bill looks like he wants to die.
"You watch a lot of pornos lately, Stanley?"
"Guys, that's enough," Bill says. Richie doesn't know how he can do it, easily falling back into his role as the leader of their ragtag gang, when he's still limping from Richie's dick.
"We still have to finish this," Bill adds, and then he meets Richie's eyes.
His neck is flushed red from Richie's necking and his eyes are glassy from being fucked, but it doesn't change anything.
The others still stop talking at the sound of his voice, turning and waiting to hear what he has to say. Bill points, and they follow. Despite it all, or maybe because of it.
Richie thinks he'd follow him anywhere.
"Bill's right," Richie agrees, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Let's finish this."