#reddie week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

squeakykid · 11 months

Text

Reddie Week Day 4 Soulmates!!

This is my longest Reddie week post so far! I'll put it below the little squiggly line and see what that does. Please let me know what you think if you decide to check it out! Thank you!

Soulmates were real. Right? Eddie Kaspbrak was always told they were. That there were auras that were visible to just you and that special person. That being around them made things smell different… taste different. They made you look at the world with fresh eyes. He had no proof of that.

He had no proof of it because he wasn't able to see anything. He never could. It would be one thing if only that "special" person was supposed to have an aura. No. People said they could see their own auras. Eddie never saw anything. He didn't even know what it was supposed to look like. It's like how no one how's how well they can visualize things because they'll never know what other people are seeing. How clear is the apple? What the fuck does that even mean.

He used to try to see it. He'd convince himself he was a late bloomer. It was coming. His colors would come in and he'd see the world in a new vibrancy.

His mother was pushy from the start. "Describe it sweetie? What are your colors?" She wouldn't drop it. Wouldn't let it go. "Why won't you just tell me, sweetie?? What are you hiding from mommy?"

She pushed it and pushed it until Eddie popped. He started crying and screamed out. "I don't have any colors! I'm blank! I'm broken!"

He regretted it immediately. He feared what might happen after speaking to her like that, but she just pulled him close in an oppressive stranglehold. "Oh baby, it's okay!! Maybe you don't have colors because you don't need a soulmate because you have me. I'm all you need, Eddie bear." Eddie, overwhelmed, only cried harder.

When his friends asked, he lied through his teeth. He was silent as he listened to his friends describing their colors. Bill was sad because his colors didn't end up matching with Beverly Marsh, the girl he had a crush on ever since they kissed in the school play. His were purple. Stanley mostly just said his were green. He didn't give much away about his stance on "soulmates". Just green. Then, Richie. For some reason, Eddie has been dreading Richie's explanation the most. He and Richie had been "Eddie and Richie" for so long. Always together, always fighting, always tangled up limbs forming the infinity sign. It was selfish for Eddie to wish Richie was like him, but he did. He told himself he just didn't want to be the only one.

Richie has colors. From the sounds of it, the most beautiful and obnoxious colors that ever existed. He painted a picture with a rainbow of colors. Eddie watched him with wide eyes, stunned, in awe, as Richie kept going, kept describing the most beautiful colors in the world. "What about you, Eds?" Richie asked. Eddie searched Richie's face. Did he know? Could he tell? They made eye contact, Eddie swallowed, though his throat was dry. Richie's eyes were so, "Blue." Eddie said, before he even realized his lips were moving. The eye contact held for a moment longer, the air sticky thick, before Richie smiled wide, carefree as if Eddie's world wasn't falling apart. "Cool!"

Not long after, Beverly Marsh joined their little group as well as Mike Hanlon and Ben Hanscom. As it turned out, Beverly Marsh's soulmate was the new kid, Ben. Bill tried to hide the heartbreak on his face when they told everyone, hand in hand. Eddie's mouth turned up in disgust. Why should something so stupid control love? What If they don't feel it? What if they love someone else? Who decided that's what the colors meant anyway? Bill cried on Eddie's shoulder for a week while they ate goldfish and gushers and watched the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

The rest of them didn't see the person with their colors throughout their highschool years. It didn't matter much, as Eddie saw it, with what they'd been through together? They were all soulmates in the ways that mattered.

They all lost touch after graduation.

He met Myra on a Sunday. He got off work early Sundays, so he likes to spend his nights sipping fruity cocktails at The Lucky Turtle. The old dusty sign under the name read "your destiny awaits". Her voice had a familiar shrillness, even though they'd never met. She was wailing to the bartender about her boyfriend loud enough for the entire bar to hear, and the bartender looked overwhelmed. "He's a bum!" She blubbered. "I can't believe I got saddled with such a gross loser for a soulmate! I was really going places before he came along ya know! All A's in school and cute as a button. Now we're broke and all my potential is wasted. Stupid freaking," she paused, "Pardon my language, but stupid colors shouldn't trap a cute teen girl into a life of suffering with a total loser. I need a man that can take care of me!" Myra wasn't pleasant, but Eddie couldn't help but be intrigued by her disdain for the colors. He moved closer to her. "W..what??" She sniffled. "Come to take advantage of my fragile position?" She looked at him through her eyelashes and puffed out her lower lip.

Eddie almost just left, but he didn't. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his veins"I don't think the colors know everything." He said coolly. "It's all a huge scam." She lit up at that.

They went home together. It wasn't like Eddie to mess around with a married woman, but it wasn't like him to mess around with anyone and he was so fucking lonely. When Eddie blurted out his defect. I have no colors. I'm blank. I don't have a soulmate. He thought that would be it. Why would anyone want someone that was deficient? It wasn't. She was delighted.

By the fifth meetup, Myra announced she was leaving her "dead beat" husband for him. She loved that Eddie was dependable with a good paying job and benefits. She also loved that he was broken. It was like having two soulmates, she'd say. She never had to worry about him leaving her for his real soulmate because he didn't have one, and she thought that was great.

Their relationship wasn't anything special. Things didn't smell different or taste different, but at least he wouldn't live his life alone, and that was better than nothing, right? They were married on a Sunday, just like the day they met. His mother cried. Seeing them in one space was unnerving. It made it impossible to ignore their similarities. Two women that used his deficiency to claim him.

He was married. That's what he wanted, right? To not be alone forever like he feared he would be? It seemed as though he should have been happy. He had everything normal people had, and yet, maybe the colors really meant more than just "soulmates", maybe it was the soul itself. Maybe Eddie was soulless. Maybe God forgot to give him a soul. Maybe he'd never be happy because he was hardly a real person.

One afternoon, he was doing the dishes and Myra was watching TV in the sitting room. The rooms were connected, so they could still look over at each other. Myra was laughing, until she wasn't. She'd been watching her favorite late night talk show. "This guy sucks." She whined as she sunk deeper into her chair. "Eddie bear, come here! Look at this guy!! He really thinks he's funny, but he's awful. I can't believe Johnny Daily would have a hack like this guy on the show. What is the future of TV coming to?" She just droned on into an unpleasant white noise.

"Okay okay, just for a minute. I'm doing the dishes." He took a few steps over so he could see the TV, absentmindedly drying a plate.

"Richie Tozier, ladies and gentlemen." The TV came into crystal clear focus. There he was Richie. All grown up, scruff, laugh lines, and all. Same shitty jokes. The plate slipped from his fingers and shattered on the ground.

After that, Eddie secretly sat in the bathroom to look up Richie, watch his standup, he'd only watch him on TV if he knew Myra wouldn't be home as if he were having an affair and not just embarrassed to be obsessed with a guy that his wife thought was "offensively unfunny".

Myra was out with friends one night. "Girls night, don't wait up!" She said, going out the door in low-cut cheetah-print. Eddie had recorded Richie's recent TV appearances on a secret account and had been itching to watch them. Just waiting for an opportunity.

The first was very typical of Richie's TV appearances, promoting his upcoming Netflix special that Eddie was already ready to sign up for a free trial to watch as soon as it came out. The second recording was different. It wasn't like his usual appearances. The vibe was more serious. At first, Eddie worried something was wrong.

"So, you've come out! Tell us more about that." The host probed with a sympathetic smile that felt artificial.

Richie's smile felt genuine, but nervous. "Sort of, I guess. If you want to put it like that. It's true. I don't have colors. I never have." Eddie felt himself immediately become cold and clammy. His mouth grew dry.

"Never?" She asked.

"Nope!" Richie replied, almost jovial. "I'm tired of lying. I figured I couldn't be alone. I thought, maybe I should finally be at least a little brave if that means it would help some other confused kid. It would have meant a lot to me to know I wasn't alone."

Eddie stared at the screen, much closer to it than his mother would have been okay with. She always said sitting right in front of the TV was like staring at the sun. That hardly felt like it mattered at that moment. Eddie got up from.in front of the TV while earnest Richie and the fake interviewer continued the interview in the background. Eddie desperately pawed through the medicine cabinet. He'd thrown out his inhalers years ago, but suddenly felt desperate for a puff. Seeing Richie made him feel strange and small and scared.

No. He thought. Nononono. Richie had colors. He said so. He had the most beautiful colors of all. Swirling blues and green and orange and yellow like the sun. He told them. He. He lied. Just like Eddie. Eddie always assumed, before he saw him again on TV, that Richie was living a happy white-picket-fence life with a beautiful wife. Someone special. Someone that also had the most beautiful colors and together they were raising two boys with a cat and a dog and a chameleon that could turn all kinds of different colors. Richie always wanted a chameleon, but no. Richie didn't have those things. He was just as confused and scared and lonely as Eddie had always been.

Before he realized what he was doing, his body moving almost automatically, he was in the car and driving. Where am I going? The broadcast wasn't live. I recorded it a week ago. At a red light, Eddie skillfully typed out, "Where does Richie Tozier live" like a stalker. He got a vague area in LA from a sketchy tabloid site, and that was good enough for him.

He didn't say a word to anyone, not to his work, not to Myra. Maybe he should have attempted to message Richie, but it's not like he'd see it. He was famous now and Eddie hadn't talked to him since highschool. He just got on a plane, looking unkempt and jittery. He didn't think the random screening he was pulled for was very random.

He'd never been to California. He used to want to go. He used to want to see all kinds of places. Road trips in fast cars, wind running through his hair from open windows, even though it's terrible for your ears.

He opened Twitter and navigated to Richie's page. Eddie didn't use Twitter, and using it now just made him feel even creepier. What am I even doing? This is crazy! He thought, but he looked anyway. Richie had a bad habit of posting everything. Eddie went on a wild goose chase, following his Twitter breadcrumbs to no avail. He almost gave up. It was getting dark, and Eddie had retreated back into his hotel room. He relaxed in the provided hotel robe after a long scolding shower. Eddie heard once that lonely people take the hottest showers.

His phone buzzed. Probably Myra. He told her something came up for work. He hated lying like this, but how could he possibly explain the truth? Sorry darling. I'm in LA stalking your least favorite comedian. He's actually my childhood friend and it turns out we're both broken in the same way. It was stupid. It was so stupid.

It wasn't Myra. It was an alert from Richie's Twitter. He posted a picture of himself on a stage in front of an empty stadium. It said, "I'll see you all at my show tonight!" It included a link to more information as well as a kissy winking face that flipped Eddie's stomach.

He was performing a show at a place nearby the hotel at 9pm which was only an hour away. This was his only chance. He got dressed quickly. He didn't pack much. He looked unpolished and ridiculous, but he headed out anyway.

He thought he could buy tickets at the door, but no such luck. He ended up crossing his fingers and buying a ticket from scalpers for five times the price. He had no idea Richie was so famous. He wasn't even funny.

He got in with his scalped ticket. He watched from the nosebleeds. Okay, maybe he was a little funnier than he'd been as a kid. He was in his element up on the stage. He'd really grown up. Eddie heard sounds coming out of himself that he hadn't in a long time. Fond little laughs that were embarrassed to bubble out. Okay, maybe he always found Richie a little funny.

By the end of the show, Eddie was a bit more relaxed. He was here. Richie Tozier. In the flesh. Richie Tozier who didn't see the colors. Just like Eddie.

When Richie finished wishing the crowd goodnight, Eddie was already out of his seat. He was fighting through the legs of slow patrons with a flurry of "Sorry, excuse me sorry." He could lose Richie. Not again. He didn't have a plan beyond "get to Richie".

There was a crowd around the front and a bodyguard that was on the short side, but still muscular and stocky. I probably could put run this guy. Eddie thought, seemingly embracing his fate as a creepy stalker. "Back up!" The guy yelled, spitting as he talked.

Richie was walking down the side stairs. They were so close now. Eddie took a deep breath. "Trashmouth!" The yell came out more squeaky and desperate than he would have preferred, but he had to do it. What else was he going to do?

Their eyes met. Richie looked scared. Eddie realized this was a mistake immediately. Richie was scared. Of course he was scared because Eddie was a total fucking stalker. Richie would probably get a restraining order and he'd never see him again.

"Alright, get out of here." The bodyguard walked over to shoo him, and Eddie was ready to let him, but Richie wasn't. He reached out and stopped his bodyguard from moving forward.

His eyes bore into Eddie. Eddie shivered under the intensity of his icy blue eyes. "Eds?" Richie said. The nickname gripped Eddie's heart and wouldn't let go. Richie and his bodyguard shared a look that must have communicated "let him through" because that's just what he did. Eddie walked past the bodyguard and was suddenly feet from Richie for the first time in two decades.

They stared for a while. "Hi." Richie said, his voice suddenly raw and vulnerable.

"Hi." Eddie replied, shyly.

"What are you, I mean, how did you, I um," Richie struggled to form a coherent thought. Some things never changed, though he never used to seem so careful about word choice. "You're here." He settled with.

"I can't see the colors either!" Eddie blurted, almost like he couldn't hold it in anymore. Like the words have been pounding on his throat for a long time.

Richie looked lost. He searched Eddie's face as if he thought this was all some kind of mean joke. "But," his throat sounded dry. He probably wasn't hydrating properly. "But you're blue." He said, not needing to search his mind for the color. It was as though he'd thought about it many times before, but why. Why would he remember that little lie after all these years? The answer to that was simple, but Eddie couldn't let himself believe the simple answer. Because if Richie remembered Eddie was blue the same way Eddie remembered the picture Richie had painted of the most beautiful colors in the world then maybe that meant he felt it too.

But, what the hell? "I lied." Eddie said.

"Why?" Richie sounded desperate, hanging on Eddie's every word.

"I didn't want you to think I was broken. I-" Almost as soon as the words were out of Eddie's mouth, Richie caught his cheeks in his hands, pulling him impossibly close and linking their lips. Eddie didn't shut his eyes. He couldn't, because suddenly he was filled with such clarity. He could see the green grass, the dark night sky, the yellow dandelions of spring, the blue of Richie's eyes. The colors were all there. They were always there. They were everywhere. Who's to say he's missing anything? The colors were here the whole time. Blue wasn't a lie, because it was there, in Richie's eyes. Eddie wanted to live in the blue of his eyes forever.

It didn't take long for the kissing to deepen and for Eddie to notice the cameras flashing. Eddie held up both his middle fingers. He heard that makes it so the magazines can't use paparazzi photos. He wanted this moment just for them.

#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it 2017 #reddie week 2023 #reddieweek #reddie week #day 4 soulmates #sunnywrites #fanfiction #long post

67 notes · View notes

eddieeatsass · 2 years

Text

You in My Sweater - A Reddie Fic

Five times Eddie wore Richie's clothes, and the slow progression of their love.

Read on AO3 (seriously, the formatting always gets messed up on tumblr, pls read it on AO3 if you can it’s way better I promise)

~~~~~~~~~~~

I. Eddie was a thief. A dirty little thief whose closet was filled almost halfway with clothes that were not his own. Richie should have been pissed, what with his clothes constantly disappearing, only to pop back up a month later on Eddie’s shoulders. But how could Richie be upset when Eddie seemed to have such a propensity for only stealing his clothes. It was never Bill’s flannels, even though his were softer than Richie’s. It was never Stan’s shirts, even though his would fit Eddie’s style better than Richie’s ever did. It was only ever Richie’s.

If he were being honest with himself, Richie’s adoration for Eddie might have something to do with how little he cared. He wasn’t sure if he’d be quite so unbothered if it were Mike or Ben stealing half his wardrobe. But Eddie... well there was something soothing about seeing Eddie wear his clothes. Richie could allow himself to imagine for just a moment that it was something intimate, something purposeful on Eddie's part.

The first time it happened was when they were eleven, and Eddie had broken his arm. Richie hadn’t known what to do, floundering around his best friend as he yelled in pain. He’d settled on taking off his button down and wrapping it around Eddie’s arm, as if it could stop the internal bleeding the way it would an external wound. It hadn’t worked, obviously, but Eddie had still disappeared into the ambulance with Hawaiian print wrapped around his broken bone as if it were protecting him from the pain. Richie had all but forgotten about his shirt after that, too focused on Eddie’s recovery to give a shit about where it had ended up in the midst of everything, until a few months later when Eddie had shown up to school in it.

Richie had nearly dropped to his knees when he’d seen it; tiny little Eddie Kaspbrak, rocking his signature track shorts and polo shirts, now accompanied by an ill-fitting button down that was definitely not his own.

Richie’s pre-teen heart had gone completely erratic as unfamiliar feelings clawed their way up his spine, but all he’d been able to do was stare as Eddie came bounding up to him, waving with his castless arm and a huge smile on his face.

He’d been completely unaware that he’d turned Richie’s entire world upside down.

II. Things continued to progress after that. A couple more of Richie’s shirts went missing here and there, but what Eddie really seemed to love were his sweaters. Over the next few years, Eddie would come to steal so many of Richie's sweaters that he eventually stopped buying them with himself in mind. When Richie went shopping, he now picked out sweaters he knew Eddie would like, because it was no longer a question of would Eddie end up with them, but rather when.

It's not like Richie never saw his sweaters again. About half of Eddie's wardrobe was actually Richie’s, so he'd see them in rotation every now and then. But even with a collection as big as Eddie’s had grown, it only ever took a couple months for him to strike again.

It was a random night in October, on their second year of high school, when Richie finally questioned Eddie about his habits.

The Losers were all gathered in Bill's living room watching A Nightmare on Elm Street, cozied up in various configurations around the room. Richie and Eddie had taken up the couch, curled into one another as they shared a bowl of popcorn.

It wasn’t long into the movie before Eddie began pawing at Richie's hoodie.

Richie shot him a look of intrigue, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.

"Gimme your hoodie, I'm cold." Eddie whispered.

"Get your own hoodie." Richie responded, not actually bothered by the request, but intent on fighting it just a little bit.

Eddie pouted. "Come on Rich! I’m gonna turn into a popsicle." He whispered again, tugging on the hood and subsequently choking Richie.

"Aye! Okay okay, calm down you little gremlin!" Richie hushed back, putting enough space between them that he could pull his sweater over his head and hand it to an annoyingly smug looking Eddie.

"Why do you always steal my clothes anyway, huh? Why not Ben's or Mike's?" Richie asked, watching as Eddie shimmied into the oversized sweater. "You creating a shrine to me or something, Kaspbrak? Tryna summon a sex demon that looks exactly like me?” Richie leaned in close, waggling his eyebrows and smirking.

But instead of the laughter he was expecting, Eddie stiffened up, and Richie immediately wanted to swallow back his words. He watched as a scowl settled into Eddie's features before Richie could even figure out what he'd done wrong.

"They're just comfy, asshole. If it's that big of a deal I'll give them back." Eddie mumbled, slouching further down into the couch and crossing his arms.

Richie's brain struggled with the sudden tone shift, leaving him gaping at Eddie like a fish out of water.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and make another series of questionable jokes born out of desperation for Eddie’s attention, Stan saved the day.

By throwing a pillow at Richie’s face.

“Ow!” Richie protested loudly, causing a chorus of shushes.

"Go flirt somewhere else. I'm trying to watch Freddy Krueger drown Nancy." Stan whisper-shouted from his spot on the floor.

Richie’s face reddened about three shades, and he was suddenly glad for the darkness in the room. In an effort to save face, he turned back to Eddie, now preparing himself to make a joke at Stan’s expense, but instead he was met with tired eyes.

“Just watch the movie, Richie.” Eddie seemed to beg, and for once Richie’s self-preservation encouraged him to drop it.

That was when Richie learned his lesson: never question Eddie’s motives.

III.

Thankfully, Richie’s blunder didn’t shake Eddie up for long. Within a week he’d seemed to have forgotten their conversation entirely, reverting to his old habits with one of Richie’s vintage band t-shirts as collateral. Richie was more than happy to see it go if it meant he could release the tension he’d been carrying since putting his foot in his mouth at Bill’s last week.

Months went by and eventually the conversation slipped Richie’s mind as well, falling behind the metaphorical couch in his brain and allowing Richie to once again tease Eddie about his penchant for Richie-specific clothing.

"You're not gonna fit-"

"Shut up! I'm gonna fit!"

"You have thighs chiseled from marble and an ass that would make the queen of England faint. You're not gonna-"

“I’M GONNA FIT.”

“Eds, just switch with Bill! His pants are looser and his scrawny chicken legs can probably fit into my jeans easier-”

"Ha! Fuck you!"

Eddie stood before Richie with a victorious smile on his face, panting from the exertion of trying to wriggle into skinny jeans two sizes too small.

Two sizes too small, which resulted in a less than family friendly view before him.

"Eds..." Richie swallowed thickly, his eyes glued to the prominent bulge that Eddie was now sporting. It was fucking sinful, honestly, and Richie had to force himself to look away before he popped a boner and made this whole situation very uncomfortable.

"What, do they look bad?" Eddie asked, Richie's reaction clearly having planted a seed of doubt in Eddie's mind. He was quick to snuff it out, not wanting Eddie to get the wrong idea.

"No! No, they look great, I've just... Never seen you in skinny jeans." Richie offered, hoping it was a decent enough explanation.

Eddie nodded, turning to look at himself in the full-length mirror and giving Richie a proper view of the way his jeans stretched across Eddie's backside. It was enough to make a guy dizzy.

"Right, well the rest of the guys are probably waiting on us, so." Richie stood up from Ben's bed, his bottom half only clad in boxers after giving Eddie his pants.

"Thanks Richie." Eddie said quietly, still staring at himself in the mirror. "I'm just not comfortable with my body the way you are. I couldn't have sat in my underwear all afternoon while my pants got washed."

"Hey, don't sweat it Eddie spaghetti. We're doing everyone a favor by putting my goodies on display." Richie did a little wiggle that was his awkward attempt at showing off said 'goodies', and was pleased when it earned him a laugh. But still, Eddie didn't move from the mirror.

"That's crazy, by the way." Richie ventured on, his trash mouth guided by Eddie's clear vulnerability.

Eddie made eye contact with him in the mirror, raising one eyebrow in question.

"The whole thing with your body and... Not feeling..." Richie waved his hand in the air, trying to string together thoughts that were being shaken around by his racing heartbeat. After a moment he sighed, resigning himself to a moment of ineloquence.

"You're fucking hot, Eds. It's a damn shame you don't see it."

Eddie's face seemed to flush a bright red, but then again, that could have just been the lighting in Ben's room playing tricks on Richie's eyes.

“I’m not-” Eddie began to protest, but Richie wasn’t having it. If there was one good thing that could come of today’s spilt milkshake, it was a rise in Eddie’s confidence. Even if just momentarily.

“You are.” Richie insisted, coming up behind Eddie and gripping his arms. He pivoted the smaller boy, angling him to the side so he could see himself the way Richie saw him.

“This?” Richie pointed to Eddie’s ass. “Insane. Should be illegal, honestly. You could probably take someone out with this.”

“Richie!” Eddie quickly re-righted himself, swatting at Richie for bringing up something he’d know would embarrass him.

“What! I’m just telling the truth, your honor.” Richie held up one hand, placing the other on his chest as if he were in a court room. “I, Richie Tozier, do solemnly swear that I am telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

“Whatever.” Eddie rolled his eyes, pushing past Richie. “Let’s go, I want to enjoy at least some of my afternoon.”

But even through his feigned annoyance, Richie noticed the way Eddie’s mouth quirked up at the sides, the way he stood taller than he had a few moments ago, and he counted that as enough of a victory for today.

He followed Eddie back downstairs, a newfound giddiness in his step and a gratitude, once again, that Eddie always insisted on borrowing his clothes.

IV.

Richie was used to climbing the tree outside Eddie's window, had grown to be quite skilled at it in fact. What used to take his gawky, uncoordinated limbs a full five minutes to climb now only took him thirty seconds, as he scaled the branches with years of expertise.

Eddie knew Richie always visited on Friday nights. It had been their ritual for at least a year now; Richie would crawl through Eddie's window and they would spend the night discussing the last week's escapades, their plans for the weekend, their hopes and dreams.

So, Richie was confused when he rapped on Eddie's window, peeking through it and catching the tail end of what seemed like the kind of moment he was not supposed to intrude on.

"Shit!" Eddie's voice was muffled through the glass pane, but Richie could still hear the accompanying movement as he watched Eddie throw his blankets over himself in a haste, throwing something under his bed and letting his arms disappear beneath the covers to help shimmy something up.

Richie's brain knew this dance very well.

"What the fuck, Richie!?" Eddie whispered angrily as he opened his window.

"Did you forget I was coming, Eds?" Richie teased, defaulting to humor to cover up how affected he was by what he'd just witnessed. Or rather, almost witnessed.

"It's Thursday!" Eddie protested, pointing to his calendar in frustration.

Despite his glasses, Richie still had to squint to see the calendar pinned to the wall across the bedroom. But sure enough...

"Well I'll be. I never was good at math."

"HOW IS THAT MATH." Eddie shout whispered, still warry to wake up Sonia even though she could probably sleep through a nuclear apocalypse.

"Well, Eds, care to explain what I just walked in on on this fine Thursday night?"

Eddie glared at him, clearly not impressed. "What, do I have to explain the birds and the bees to you, Rich?"

"Oh no, I am well acquainted with both birds and bees, I just didn't know my little Eddie K. was as well."

Richie felt like his stomach was trying to claw its way out his esophagus. He was hanging on Eddie's every word, humor on his tongue ready to deflect at any moment if things got too close to the truth.

"Yeah, well some of us don't go around announcing every new pubic hair we get." Eddie bit back.

"It's up to 137 now, thanks for asking." Richie chimed back.

Eddie rolled his eyes, moving to push his window back down and end the conversation.

"Hey wait! You're not gonna let me in?" Richie protested, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the windowsill.

"It's Thursday." Eddie repeated, as if that answered his question.

"Right. Thursday is scheduled wank day, got it. Well then, don't let me interrupt you any more than I already have. I'll just be off, heading home to wank by my lonesome. Forever wishing I had a buddy who-" Richie's words fell short as he finally noticed what Eddie was wearing. He almost lost his balance as he fully registered the situation.

"Are those my boxers?" Richie asked incredulously, staring openly at Eddie's crotch where a pair of Richie's own boxers hung off Eddie’s hips.

"NO OKAY GOODNIGHT RICHIE."

Within a second the window was snapped shut and the curtains pulled closed, and Richie was left to sit in disbelief at what he'd just seen.

When had Eddie gotten a pair of his boxers?

Class rings were tacky, there was no denying it. They were always made out of cheap metal that turned your skin green, far too bulky to look good, and engraved with some cheesy school moto that didn't reflect the average high school experience. Richie was convinced that the only people who really liked class rings were those who were already in their prime, destined to go downhill after graduation with this flimsy piece of jewelry as their only memory of their golden years.

So then why did he buy one? Well... Fuck you, that's why.

He had his reasons, however senseless they might be. Reasons that he honestly hadn't known if he'd carry through until about 2 hours ago when he'd been getting ready to leave his house, bag in hand with everything he'd need for the night, and in a moment of bravery he'd snatched the ring off his dresser and shoved it into his knapsack alongside everything else.

But now that he was here, fiddling with it in his pocket, he was questioning once again why he bought a stupid class ring.

"Richie can you- ugh! This fucking tie is broken!" Eddie was standing in front of his mirror, face a little redder than usual and his hands flailing around as he spoke. He was getting visibly more frustrated by the minute as his tie refused to cooperate.

"Eddie, it can sense your fear. Just relax."

"If you don't come over here and help me in the next five seconds I'm going to choke you with this tie, and then we'll see who really senses fear."

"Oof, don't threaten me with a good time!" Regardless of the way Richie's heart was currently trying to hammer its way out of his chest, he still jumped off the bed and made his way over.

Eddie turned to face him, tilting his neck up in invitation for Richie to take over.

"Sooooo," Richie ventured forward with false confidence, his hands moving mindlessly as he began tying Eddie's tie. It was an insignificant skill he'd mastered when he'd been younger, having convinced himself that the years to come would include many dates, and of course the proper date attire in a 12 year old's mind was a suit and tie.

But however misguided he'd been, as he stood here with Eddie, close enough to see the pink that had risen to his cheeks since Richie had gotten closer, he was grateful for his small talent.

"Got anyone on your radar tonight?" Richie finally asked, noticing the way Eddie's eyes quickly darted to his own.

"No. What? Why would you even- If I'd been interested in someone else I would have asked them to prom instead of going with you."

'Interested in someone else'. Richie's brain clung to those words, spinning them around until they sounded like they could maybe mean... Eddie was interested in...

Richie's throat got a bit tighter, his heart continuing to jackhammer inside his ribcage.

"Yeah, of course. I just didn't know if that had changed since... Yeah, stupid question."

"Nothing's changed." Eddie reaffirmed, his eyes softening a bit. And suddenly Richie was hyper aware of the fact that he was still holding Eddie's tie, standing close enough that their shoes were touching, close enough that he could count every single freckle on Eddie's nose.

"Uh, right!" Richie dropped Eddie's tie, taking a wide step backwards and putting space between them before he could do something stupid. He had a plan.

"Well same here pardner, ain't no sage hens in my sights." Richie tipped an invisible hat.

"Ugh, not the cowboy. I hate the cowboy." Eddie groaned. He turned back to face himself in the mirror, fixing his tie and pointedly ignoring Richie’s attempt at a follow up joke.

“Okay, how do I look?” Eddie asked Richie after a moment, seemingly content enough with his reflection.

Richie’s palms immediately started to sweat as the ring began burning a hole in his pocket. This was the moment he’d been waiting for.

And as usual, he bombed it.

“You look shitty! Here let me help!”

“Fucking excuse me?” Eddie gaped.

“Sorry! Not- fuck, you don’t look shitty, but you- your outfit is missing something-” Richie began rifling around in his pocket, grabbing for the ring in desperation.

“Richie, this better be going somewhere.”

“HERE!” Richie hurled the ring at Eddie’s chest and then froze, watching in abject horror as it clattered to the floor.

They both stared at it for a beat longer than was comfortable, the silence around them shrinking as unasked and unanswered questions floated around them. Richie closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then bent down to pick up the ring.

“Richie, can you please make sense for one fucking second.” Eddie seemed exasperated, and Richie didn’t blame him. He took another deep breath, willed himself to stop being so dramatic, and tried again.

“I think you should wear my class ring.” Richie blurted. Not exactly as smooth as he’d hoped, but worlds better than his first attempt.

“O-oh.” Eddie clamped up, his eyes going wide under Richie’s gaze. Richie willed himself not to panic.

“Only if you want to! I just… it would look good with your outfit… is all.”

Eddie paused, seeming to search Richie’s face for something.

“Is that the only reason you want me to wear it?” Eddie asked quietly. Richie’s heart gave a warning thump.

“…No.” He answered honestly, swallowing down his fear.

“You know what it would mean if I wore this, right?” Eddie’s voice was getting smaller, softer, as if he was scared to startle Richie with his words.

Richie simply nodded, hoping his face conveyed all the emotions he was too nervous to voice just yet.

A second passed, and then two, and soon enough Richie was sure he’d done irreparable damage to their relationship. He was preparing to do massive damage control when Eddie spoke up.

“Well then, come on.” Eddie shot his hand out, palm facing up and waiting expectantly.

Richie just stared at it, his brain having a hard time catching up.

“Richie, I need the ring if I’m gonna wear it.” Eddie teased, though his voice sounded as shaky as Richie felt.

“Right… Right! Yeah!” Richie handed it over, watching incredulously as Eddie slipped it on to his finger with ease.

“I’m sorry I don’t have one for you-” Eddie began to apologize, but Richie’s laughter bubbled up before he could finish. Not surprisingly, Eddie’s brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” Richie composed himself, but he had a newfound smile on his face that he was sure he wasn’t going to get rid of for a while. “You’re the one who wears my clothes, not the other way around.”

“Oh my god, are you ever going to let that go?” Eddie whined.

Richie thought for a moment, then walked over to Eddie’s closet and slid the door open, revealing dozens of Richie’s clothes all lined up in their own section. He looked back at Eddie with a cocky grin.

Eddie crossed his arms stubbornly. “Shut up. I’m allowed to wear my boyfriend’s clothes.”

“Yeah.” Richie’s grin split even further. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

#reddie #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #my posts #reddieweek #reddie week 2022 #reddie week #reddieweek2022 #my writing

69 notes · View notes