Archive of Our Own

The Annual Derry Christmas Tree Lighting was always held on the first Saturday of December at City Center, where a huge, home-grown Maine White Spruce would be propped up right next to their own Paul Bunyan statue (like he had cut it down himself, har-de-har!), covered in twinkling blue and white lights, and lit up after a joyous countdown to ten and the cheers of whatever citizens were willing to brave the cold to be there. 

(As if a cutesy little tree lighting could cover up the actual, literal demonic horror in which the town was actually founded on...Yeah, okay.)

Richie's mom insisted the Toziers be in attendance for the grand lighting every year, bundling Richie and Went up in heavy coats and hats and gloves and calling it a family tradition. His father would always make them each hot chocolate in travel mugs (making his own "Irish" with a wink at Richie behind his mother's back), and the whole family would trek down to the park at least an hour early to "beat the crowd" along with everyone else.

Despite the Magic of Christmas™ having long since worn off for fifteen year old Richie (especially with his ol' pal Tall Paul hanging menacingly around all the action. Talk about a buzz kill), Richie did look forward to the event, if for no other reason than the presence of one Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie, in a delightful, annual, fuck-you to his mom, snuck out through his bedroom window each year to join Richie and his family like the little rebel he was.

Richie's parents knew, of course, that Eddie was there only because he was sneaking out, they weren't stupid, Sonia had been crying to the entire town about how sad it was that poor little Eddie was allergic to pine needles their whole childhood (he wasn't), so they just had to make do with their gaudy and ugly artificial one again, this year, boo hoo hoo.

Even so, just like every other year, as Eddie pushed his way through the crowd, woefully underdressed because he kept his warmest winter clothes downstairs on the coat rack and he couldn't chance his mom noticing anything had gone missing, cheeks flushed and nose pink (and a little runny), looking like everything Richie had ever hoped and dreamed to be his, his parents kept any inkling they had of Eddie's rebellion a secret.

"Eddie Spaghetti!" Went cheered, lifting his spiked hot chocolate in greeting. "No Sonia again this year?" he asked like it was a surprise, and Eddie smiled in relief that Richie's parents were willing to play along once again. 

"Nope, just me," he said with a shrug, blushing adorably as Maggie tisked and pulled an extra wool knit hat out of her purse to plop onto Eddie's windswept hair. A matching pair of mittens and an extra travel mug of hot chocolate came next, and Eddie juggled the mug to slip on the mittens over his shivery hands. "Ma didn't want to deal with the cold, or the crowd."

"Don't blame her for that," Went drawled, grinning as Maggie whacked him lightly in the shoulder. 

"It's tradition," she insisted, grumpily, then turned her ire in on Richie. "Rich, for heaven's sake, Eddie's going to freeze to death, lend him your coat, please."

"What?!" he balked because he knew his lines well enough by now. "What about me?"

"I know for a fact you are wearing, like, fifteen layers under there," she sighed, which, yeah, was true. "If you don't want to give him your coat, at least go back to the house and grab him a different one."

"God, fine," Richie groaned, slipping out of his big white puffy jacket (that he absolutely wore expecting to have to give it to Eddie) to reveal the ugly and blocky teal and purple monstrosity of a coat he knew Maggie hated that he was wearing underneath. "I'll just go fuck myself, I guess." Maggie rolled her eyes, told him to watch his language, and smiled as Eddie took the puffer jacket and slipped it on gratefully. 

"Thank you, Richard. Now," she clapped her hands together once, the sound completely muffled by her huge ski gloves. "Let's go get a nice spot!"

Despite her size, Maggie was able to shove her way through the crowd with the tenacity of a woman twice her height, finding a relatively decent spot delightfully away from Paul Bunyan, the tree thankfully almost completely blocking him from Richie's view. Went meandered off somewhere behind them, nodding and talking to people he recognized as they passed.

"Hustle, Wentworth!" Maggie cried, before shaking her head. "Okay," she sighed, turning to the boys once at least Richie and Eddie had caught up to her. "This is good, right? Eddie, sweetheart, can you see okay?

Richie snorted. "Yeah, can you see okay, short-ass?"

"Rich, honestly. Language," Maggie scolded. "It's Christmas.”

"It's December seventh!" Richie cried, throwing his hands into the air. Maggie ignored him.

"Yes, I can see fine, Mrs. Tozier, thank you," Eddie told her primly, sticking his stupid, adorable, little nose into the air smugly. Richie flipped him off from behind his hot chocolate. Eddie flipped him off back as soon as Maggie wasn't watching. (He assumed, at least. It was hard to tell through the mittens.) 

"Okay, good," Maggie said with a smile that immediately turned strained as she realized Wentworth had officially disappeared somewhere in the crowd. "Oh, for the love of—," she groaned. "I'll be right back, boys. Please stay put. Went!" 

Richie rolled his eyes at her departure, but Eddie smiled wistfully after her, looking fond. "It's sweet she cares so much about this every year," Eddie told him, sipping at his hot chocolate. "I mean, she's terrifying, don't get me wrong, but in a sweet way." 

"Yeah, it's really somethin', alright, "Richie snorted, glancing in the direction she had disappeared and finding only anonymous faces. "Nope. We ain't gonna see them again for a while," he laughed, turning back to Eddie. "Any issues getting out this year?"

He almost kicked himself for asking when Eddie's smile immediately fell at the reminder. "No," he sighed. "No more than usual at least. I told her I had a headache and wanted to lie down for a bit before bed. Hopefully she thinks I just fell asleep, if she goes in to check on me at all, I'm fucking toast." 

Richie hummed in sympathy and took a quick, tongue-burning sip of his hot chocolate before he said something about Eddie's mom he might regret. As embarrassing as it was to admit, even to himself, he had lucked out with his parents. Comparatively, especially. They were dweebs, of course, but they loved him and treated him well. Not everyone in Derry was as lucky. 

Bev, as much as it sucked to watch her go, had been one of the lucky ones, fighting back against her dad and moving in with her aunt. He missed her terribly, of course, they all did, but she had gotten out, escaped all the torment and abuse she had been stuck in. He didn't know what she was up to these days exactly, she had been strangely quiet since she had moved, but it had to be better than what she had left behind.

Eddie, on the other hand...

Tough as nails, fussy, feisty little Eddie Kaspbrak. The kid had been through more bullshit than ninety percent of people his age, but he still trucked along like the stubborn, adorable little turd he was. 

Richie had had weird, distrustful feelings about Mrs. Kaspbrak before things fell apart, but after the clown incident and the truth about Eddie's medications and illnesses coming to light that summer, he could barely even think about the women without feeling sick with rage. How could someone, anyone, who had even an ounce of Eddie Kaspbrak's love even think about treating him that way? Of clipping his beautiful wings when he was so clearly meant to sore?

Richie took another big gulp of his hot chocolate in an effort to hide what he was sure was a blush blooming over his cheeks. 

Eddie thoughts were dangerous thoughts these days. Even with the Bowers gang out of commission (Dead, he reminded himself. Bowers had fucking killed his friends and ended up in Juniper Hill for his trouble; slit all their throats right before coming after you and your friends and trying to do the same, his treacherous mind reminded him), Derry was still a cesspool of hate and bigotry, and boys who had thoughts like he did about other boys were not to be tolerated. 

Damn it if Eddie didn't make it hard for him though, all bundled up in Richie's mom's hat and gloves and Richie's own big, puffy coat, his cheeks all pink from the cold and big brown eyes wide in barely-concealed excitement. Fuck if he wasn't the cutest goddamn thing Richie had ever seen.

"The tree looks fucking shabby this year," Eddie mused, breaking Richie out of his thoughts as he glared up at the offending piece of forestry critically. "How fucking hard can it be to find a nice pine tree in Maine? Half this fucking state is covered in the things."

Richie smirked. "You aren't wrong. It looks like they had your mom sit on it to knock it down this year."

"Fucking really, Richie?" Eddie groaned, glaring up at him. "Are you being serious right now? Is that what we're going to do today? We're gonna fight?"

Richie busted out laughing, grinning even wider as Eddie forced himself to physically bite back the smile he was desperately trying not to let Richie see. 

Eventually, a hush fell over the park as the Mayor stepped up onto the rickety, makeshift podium next to the tree and tapped the microphone to get the growing crowd's attention

He proceeded to then give a long flowery speech about the sanctity of the holiday season, thanking not only God, but every person who contributed to this fine moment, and isn't Derry truly the greatest town on Earth? Such a loving and wholesome community! Blah blah fucking blah. Richie only heard about half of it, if he was being generous. 

"Oh my god, shut up," he heard Eddie grumble at one point. "We're all fucking freezing, just light the damn thing already."

"But Eds," Richie gasped, mock offended on capitalism's behalf gesturing to the advertisement-covered mini-stage, "think of the photo opts! The product placement!"

Eddie rolled his eyes and took another long sip of his hot chocolate. "They can get a photo opt of me fucking kicking their asses here in a second, if they don't hurry the fuck up. If I get fucking hypothermia out here, I am suing," he mumbled into his cup.

God, Richie liked him so damn much. "Hypothermia?" he asked, grinning, just to get Eddie going. 

"Yes, Richie! Hypothermia! It occurs when body heat drops below ninety-five degrees, which happened about nine fucking hours ago when this fucking speech started!" Eddie sliced the hand that wasn't holding his mug through the air. "My toes are probably already frostbitten because I'm just wearing these shitty sneakers, and—Oh," he cut himself off, switching over to a tone that was downright pleasant, "it's starting. Finally."

Richie just shook his head, smiling fondly as he forced his gaze away from Eddie, to what was sure to be a far less breathtaking sight in front of him as the citizens of Derry counted down to the lighting. 

"Three! Two! One!" they all counted together, bursting into cheers and applause as the tree lit up in bright blues and whites, the silver ornaments and tinsel glittering in the twinkling light. 

"At least it looks less shitty lit up," Eddie commented softly as he devastatingly, undeniably shuffled over just enough to tuck himself firmly into Richie's side. 

Richie flushed, looking down at him in surprise and probably a little wonder. Eddie's eyes, trained stubbornly onto the tree in front of them, fucking sparkled under his furrowed brow and determined, set jaw. Fuck.

He gulped and, allowing himself a little guilty indulgence, shuffled just a little closer to him as well. 

oOo

As the park began to clear out, Went and Maggie found their way back to Richie and Eddie, looking far too pleased with themselves for their own good, as far as Richie was concerned. 

"Okay boys, let's get a picture," Maggie called out, shooing them over to the base of the tree. Richie groaned. 

"God, do we have to do this every year?"

"Yes Richard, it's tradition," Maggie reminded him pointedly. "It's for our Christmas card."

Richie let out a long, drawn our moan and shuffled over to the tree. Eddie snorted quietly and followed closely behind him. 

"Plus, this roll has Thanksgiving on it, and we need to use it up so we can get it developed," Went added. "Mags, don't forget the headbands."

Maggie nodded and pulled two garishly sparkly, bright red and green headbands out of her purse. 

"How much shit do you have in that thing, Mom?" Richie balked. 

"Language," Maggie reminded him and forced the headbands onto each of their heads, Eddie, with a pair of bright red and green reindeer antlers with little plastic Christmas lights hanging from each point, while Richie ended up with a red band with little sprig of mistletoe hanging obnoxiously in his face by a spring.

"What the fuck," Richie grumbled as Maggie ran back over to Went to help him pose them for the picture. "Where do they get this shit, dude?"

"Just shut up and smile so this can be over," Eddie bit out through a strained, pained smile. 

"Rich, stop doing that weird thing with your face," Went called out from behind the camera.

"I'm not doing anything with my face!" he cried. "That's just my face!" Eddie giggled next to him. "Oh shut up," he said, biting back a grin at the sound. 

"Eddie, scooch a little closer to Richie, please," Maggie instructed. 

"I know he smells, but we'll be quick," Went laughed. 

"Damn, it's like a fucking roast," Richie grumbled, pouting dramatically. Eddie continued laughing at his expense, the fucking traitor. God, he was so freaking cute. "Hey Eds," he sang without thinking as his dad continued clicking away on the camera. "Gimme a kiss?"

Eddie's attention immediately turned to Richie, his eyes wide. "What?" he squeaked.

Richie mentally slapped himself in the forehead. Way to be fucking obvious, you fucking idiot, what the fuck. Get your fucking mouth under control, you dumb fuck. "The headband?" he answered sheepishly, flicking the little sprig of mistletoe, hoping he could play it off as the joke it was fucking supposed to be, despite sounding all pitiful and desperate and pathetic.

Eddie scrunched up his nose cutely. "I am not kissing you, Richie."

"Just on the cheek?" he goaded, because he was a goddamn lovesick moron who didn't know when to fucking quit. 

"No."

"Pleeease?" he drawled. "It's tradition!" he added, quoting his mom and puckering his lips up like a fish. 

"Are we done?" Eddie hollered over to Richie's parents, blushing and shoving Richie's big dumb face away from him. "Can we be done? I'd like—Rich! Stop it! I'd like to be done!"

"Oh Richie," Maggie sighed, as Went gave them a thumbs up and gave them the okay to be finished with the photo shoot. Eddie ripped off his antlers almost immediately, but Richie kept his mistletoe on, just for fun, and grabbed the small wad of cash Went held out to him to go and buy their Christmas tree.

Like many other citizens of Derry, the Toziers always purchased their tree from the local Boy Scout troop, and in recent years, Went and Maggie took their leave, allowing Richie (with Eddie's supervision) to handle the task on his own after the city tree lighting, so they could go home and warm up and be old and boring. 

Money safely tucked into the fanny pack Eddie still insisted on wearing under Richie's coat ("It's practical, Richie"), the two walked side by side down the sidewalk, making their way to the library parking lot a few blocks away, where the tree sale was set up, taking in the sights.

It had snowed a little about a week before, but it had only been a light powder and was just about all melted by then, though the chilly air clearly held promise for more soon. Most of the houses on the way to the library were decked with lights, at least, which did make for a pretty nice view, and they walked in companionable silence for once, and enjoyed the scenery. 

If Richie's eyes found their way over to Eddie more than the beautifully decorated houses around him, that was nobody's business but his own. 

As expected, Stan was waiting for them at the front table of the tree sale with a few of his fellow Boy Scouts, looking bored, and offered them a little wave as they walked over. 

Richie always thought Stan, of all people, being forced to sell Christmas trees was hilarious, and made no effort to keep this fact hidden from him, to Stan's continued annoyance.

The second year Went and Maggie had left Richie and Eddie to buy the tree on their own, Richie had darted around the whole lot, picking up any scraggly stray branches he could find, and asking Stan if they were for sale as a Hanukkah bush. 

Finally after dealing far longer than entirely appropriate with Richie's bullshit, Stan had snapped and agreed, charging Richie thirty bucks (with tax) for the pathetic little branch he was holding, snatched the money right out of his hand, and sent them on their way. They returned to Richie's house to face Went and Maggie, Richie looking sheepish and embarrassed, and Eddie laughing so hard he was nearly in tears, to explain what had happened. 

(Went ended up going back out later to buy a proper tree, which he got for 'free' from the scout leader after explaining the situation, and Stan had come over to help Richie and Eddie decorate the 'Hanukkah Bush' so it was 'culturally appropriate' at least. It remained proudly displayed next to a crude, homemade menorah in the dining room until well after New Years, to Richie's both delight and horror). 

"You just missed Mike," Stan explained to Richie and Eddie's disappointment.

"Aw man. Really?" Eddie asked, pouting. 

Stan nodded. "Ben and his mom stopped by earlier too, before dinner. He said to say hi if I saw you guys, since he didn't think they'd make it to the lighting this year." The lack of any mention of Bill weighed heavily in the air; he had only moved away a few months before, and it was still a pretty tender subject. None of them liked to bring it up, despite it weighing heavily on each of their hearts to lose Big Bill.

"He didn't miss much," Eddie sighed, messing with one of his mittens. "The tree was super scraggly this year."

Stan hummed, then turned his attention back to Richie, raising an eyebrow. "Looking to get kissed, Tozier?"

Richie wiggled his eyebrows, nodding his head vigorously so the little mistletoe bounced around in front of his face. "You offering, Stanny?"

"Don't do it, Stan," Eddie sniffed. "You don't know where he's been. You'll get rabies."

"Well of course you already tried it on Eddie," Stan scoffed under his breath, smirking knowingly. "No worries, Eddie, it's against my religion," he deadpanned. Richie resisted the urge to throw the damn headband at his fucking face, with his stupid smug, knowing grin, but they still needed a tree, so he held himself back and just flipped off Stan behind Eddie's back instead. 

Luckily for Stan, Eddie didn't seem to notice.

Richie never even had to tell Stan about his stupid little crush on Eddie; he'd just figured it out, the observant fuck. They'd never even talked about it, but Stan made sure Richie knew what he knew with those little sly comments of his, because he was a bastard like that.

Thankfully, Stan was also a good guy at heart and wouldn't ever actually spill the beans, and Eddie was an oblivious little turd at the best of times, but that didn't mean Richie had to enjoy moments like these, thank you very much. 

Eventually another customer showed up and took Stan's attention, so Richie and Eddie wandered through the lot, Eddie picking apart every single tree they even remotely considered. 

"What about this one?" Richie asked, pointing at what was clearly a perfectly acceptable tree. 

Eddie narrowed his eyes critically and shook his head. "Hm...No. Not full enough at the back."

"At the back?" Richie asked, incredulous. "Why does it matter that the back isn't full? It's the back."

"Your family puts your tree up in your front window, Richie!" Eddie cried back, scandalized.

"Why the fuck does that matter?"

"The back of the tree faces the street, numbnuts! You can't have the part that everyone is going to see look like shit!" 

"Oh my god," Richie groaned, but dutifully followed Eddie as he continued to poke and prod and critique every tree they ran across. "Just pick one, dude. We don't have all fucking night." 

Eddie ignored him, darting from tree to tree, testing branch strength and fullness, and at one point, even pulling a fucking tape measurer out of his fanny pack to check on tree height and width as well. "We don't want another White Pine incident on our hands again," he reminded him darkly.

One year, long before Richie and Eddie were allowed to go out on their own, Went had fallen ill just before the tree lighting and needed to stay home. Maggie had insisted she and the kids had the tree situation taken care of, and after watching the tree lighting, they all made their merry way to the lot, Maggie's eyes twinkling mischievously. 

"I want one with long needles this year," Maggie had mused, herding the young boys around. She stopped short in front of a long-needled White Pine and beamed. "I just love the look of them, but your father always insists we get a spruce." She smirked down at them. "But he's not here to stop us, is he? What do you think, boys, like it?"

"I like how puffy it looks," Richie told her. Eddie nodded in agreement, so Maggie had the scouts load the tree onto the car. 

It ended up taking up nearly half of the room, too big in all directions to fit comfortably in the living room.

Went, of course, found this absolutely hilarious and refused to help trim the tree in any capacity, and Maggie, stubbornly refusing to admit she had been so blinded by the fact that she could get her long needles, she forgot to take the size into consideration, so the tree stayed enormous, and the Toziers just had to just deal with shuffling around it awkwardly as Maggie's tree topper angel glared down at them judgingly at a ninety-degree angle from where it was pressed against the ceiling. 

Richie snorted and allowed Eddie to continue his measuring. 

Eventually, Eddie found a tree he deemed worthy (it looked like every other fucking tree on the lot to Richie, but Eddie was so damn proud of himself for finding a good one, he kept his mouth shut). They got it wrapped and shaken, and after waving goodbye to Stan, carried it back across town towards Richie's house, When Harry Met Sally style. 

"Let's take the shortcut over the Kissing Bridge," Eddie huffed from the front of the tree, taking a hard turn by the park and nearly knocking Richie off the sidewalk. Richie cleared his throat as he felt his cheeks heating at even the mention of the the stupid bridge. 

"Would you call that a short cut?" he asked, squeaky and just a hair maniacally. Thankfully, Eddie didn't seem to notice. 

"Yeah, dipshit, it cuts off like, at least half a mile, and this thing is getting fucking heavy. C'mon."

Richie bit back a pout but let him lead the way. It wasn't even like he had a reason to be anxious about going over the bridge with Eddie; if the twerp hadn't noticed their initials carved into the railing in the last two years, there was no reason to think he was going to notice them now, but still. To Richie, they were the most obvious things in the world, and it put him on edge to return to the scene of the crime like that. 

The bridge itself was usually left alone during the holiday season, save for an old wreath adorned with an even older, tattered red bow hung at each entrance, which was just fine by Richie, the less opportunity Eddie had to actually pay attention to the things scribbled all over the bridge, the better.

"You think we know anyone written on here?" Eddie asked, officially ruining Richie's willful ignorance. 

"No," he answered back, like, way too quickly, like a total dumbass. He cringed inwardly to himself and cleared his throat in an attempt to sound a little less deranged. "As if any of our loser friends have ever sucked face on this thing. Please." Nice. Saved it. 

Eddie hummed at the other end of the tree. "Bill and Bev kissed, like, twice," he said with a little shrug that sent the tree up and down with the motion. "Ben and Bev kissed, too, actually." He turned to look back at Richie, his eyebrows raised. "Did you ever kiss Bev?"

Richie snorted. "No, I never kissed Bev."

Eddie nodded and turned back around to focus on walking. "Okay good. I didn't either," he clarified, like Richie didn't have an intricate, detailed mental catalog of every single person Eddie Kaspbrak had ever looked at for longer than four seconds, let alone kissed. "C'mon asshole, walk faster, I'm fucking freezing."

The shortcut got them back to Richie's house not too long afterward, and with Went's help, they got the tree inside and securely placed into the stand for Maggie's inspection. 

"Eddie, sweetheart, are you staying in the night?" Maggie asked, once the tree had been given her seal of approval and Went had been instructed to get it all set up in the base by the window. Eddie shook his head. 

"No, I need to get back home," he answered, smiling sadly. "My mom, you know... But thank you."

Maggie smiled sadly back at him in return. "Of course, dear. Do you need a ride?"

Eddie shook his head again, a bit quicker. "Oh, no, I'll just walk," he explained, waving her off. Couldn't have his mom hearing the motor after all, Richie thought bitterly. 

"Rich, walk Eddie home," Went's disembodied voice told him from under the tree. As if Richie needed to be told twice. 

"You got it, Pops."

 "You keep the hat and gloves for the walk home, okay?" Maggie told Eddie, making sure the hat was still fitted snugly over his ears. "Just bring them back in the morning. We'll wait for you to decorate the tree."

Eddie's eyes widened. "Oh, no, Mrs. Tozier, you don't have to—" he started, but Went cut him off with a laugh, popping his head out from under the tree to shoot Eddie a shit eating grin.

"Don't bother, kid," he chuckled. "Mags wants to wait for you to help. You're the only one of us she trusts to do it right."

Eddie smiled, bushing sweetly at the praise, and Richie yanked the door open to keep himself from blurting out something embarrassing and marched out the door. Eddie followed after him shortly after, his legs, as always, carrying him faster than either of them expected, and fell into step beside him, smiling contently to himself. 

"I can probably be by around ten tomorrow morning, if that isn't too early for you," Eddie said with a smirk before it fell, just slightly. "Assuming my mom doesn't know I snuck out tonight at least."

Richie frowned, loathing the touch of sadness in Eddie's voice at the reminder of his stupid, sad reality. "You can always sneak out again, if that's the case," he offered, nudging him in the shoulder. Eddie smiled sadly. 

"She's gonna paint my fucking window shut, at this rate." He groaned, shaking his head. 

"Nah," Richie laughed, adjusting his glasses. "Maggie would find a way to bust you out the second she realized she's stuck with just Went and me to decorate with." He switched over to a high-pitched approximation of his mom's voice and pretended to clutch at his heart. "Richard! What are you doing?! You can't put Rudolph next to Vixen! Rudolph needs to go by Dasher!"

Eddie snorted. "I mean, that's just basic fucking logic, Rich. There's a song," he told him solemnly, then smirked. "Did that actually happen?"

"Yeah, like, three fucking years ago," Richie laughed. "I think you were in the bathroom, or had to leave early, or something. She made me rearrange them all until I got it right. I couldn't even tell the damn reindeer apart."

Eddie laughed again, the sweet sound like music to Richie's ears as they made the turn onto Eddie's street. "I really do appreciate that your parents let me tag along with you guys, every year," he told him, honestly. 

Richie scoffed and waved him off. "My family loves you, dude," he promised, grateful Eddie didn't realize how fucking true that statement was for him in particular. 

"Well, still," Eddie huffed. "It means a lot, so tell them thank you for me, if you're capable of being sincere for longer than four seconds at a time." Richie snorted. 

"You got it, Eds."

"Don't call me Eds."

Despite their slow, dawdling pace, they eventually reached Eddie's house, dark, save for a single window downstairs, no doubtfully illuminated by Sonia's TV. Eddie sighed, the trepidation obvious in his eyes as they got nearer. 

The stepladder Eddie had secretly set up to escape outside his window was still erect, which was a good sign, but they both knew his mom probably wouldn't have ventured out to remove it even if she caught him, so neither knew what Eddie could expect when he went inside, and the uncertainty kept them procrastinating even longer. 

"Well," Richie finally said with a cringe, his voice somehow sounding even louder and more grating than usual in the still night. "I'll see ya tomorrow? Hopefully?"

Eddie nodded, at first looking a little disappointed, before his eyes suddenly hardened, and he looked back up at Richie with a fierce determination before popping himself up on his tip toes and smacking a quick kiss onto Richie's surprised and blushing cheek.

"Wha—?" Richie choked, as Eddie pulled himself away and met Richie's eyes with his own, staring back and looking somehow just as surprised as Richie at his own actions. 

"Um," he began, strangled.

"E-Eds. Did you just...?"

Eddie cleared his throat, his own cheeks flushing wildly. "Th-the headband," he squeaked. "I, um, I owed you from earlier, and, uh..."

The mistletoe Richie still wore on his head bobbed around in his peripherals jovially. "Right. No, yeah, that's uh, that's right." he bumbled like an idiot. "I totally—"

"But!" Eddie cried, cutting him off and looking crimson and terrified. "Also, like. Thanks?" He winced. "Like, for a good night?" He bit his lip, murmuring out a quiet, "I had a really, really good night."

Oh god, Richie felt like he was going to fucking scream or cry, or maybe both? Eddie Kaspbrak had kissed him. Him! Like, for real. "Yeah, Eds," he floundered. "I—I did too."

Eddie nodded distractingly, opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then immediately shut it again, fiddling with his oversized mittens. "Good. That's—That's good, he said finally, taking a deep breath. He gave Richie one last devastating little smile, and began inching back towards the house, suddenly looking shy. "Well, I gotta..." he trailed off, pointing towards the ladder. 

"Right, yeah," Richie stammered, nodding. "Yeah, you should, uh—Yeah."

Eddie smirked kindly. "Goodnight, Richie."

"Goodnight, Eds," Richie gulped.

He blushed just a shade darker and bit his lip. "Don't call me Eds."

Eddie finally turned on his heel and jogged over to the ladder, climbing up and shimmying into his window without so much as a glance behind him, leaving Richie to gawk after him, mouth agape. 

It took a sudden rogue snowflake landing unceremoniously on his nose to finally snap him out of it, the first of the flurry that had been threatening to spill all night. Richie slipped off one of his gloves and gently touched the spot where Eddie's lips had touched his skin only minutes earlier, and smiled dopily as he made his way back home.

Eddie was right. 

It had been a really, really good night.