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ennergetics · 7 years

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FILLED REQUEST: the manual, a young love! park jihoon au

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pairing: park jihoon x reader genre: fluff, angst wordcount: 2779 summary: Park Jihoon has always done things by the book. When your life intertwines with his, he finds himself wishing there were a manual for love. warnings: none (as per the request, this is vaguely inspired by eddy kim’s the manual! cross-posted on ao3.)

The first time Park Jihoon really notices you is when you leave a note in his locker, asking to see him in your classroom after class hours. You’re both freshmen at Seoul’s premium performing arts high school, and barely two months of the school year have passed. Jihoon already dreads the awkward confrontation, but is too polite—and too unwilling to make enemies—to turn you down.

“Park Jihoon,” you say, your ears blazing red, “I like you.”

He asked around about you before coming here, finding the typical background: kid from the provinces, looking for a company to enter as a trainee, multi-talented. Unlike most of the others, however, you take your studies seriously, and naturally attract the other academically inclined students in your class. Bossy, blunt, and forward—not really words to describe an idol personality.

“Um,” he says, trying to find the words to say. You’re watching him with a calculating look on your face, and he swears you can see right through the bullshit consoling words he’s about to spout. Instead, he says, “I think we’d be great friends.”

And you shrug, closing your eyes before smiling at him. “It was worth a shot. You mean it?” Jihoon is surprised to find he does, that in a school full of fake smiles and soulless civility, your honesty is refreshing. When he nods, you come closer and shake his hand to seal the deal.

It’s awkward at first, especially when you join Jihoon at the lunch table where he normally eats alone. “Why’d you confess to me when we’ve barely said two words to each other?” Jihoon says, tact thrown to the wind. You don’t seem to mind, shrugging as if you hadn’t been a blushing mess the day before.

“You’re driven, charming, and cute,” you say. “What’s not to like?”

“And this isn’t weird for you?” he says carefully, poking at his food. While he's well-liked, he doesn't really have anyone whom he can trust.

You laugh, reaching out to pat his hand. “It’d be a loss to me if we weren’t friends just because of a little crush. You’re sweet, Jihoonie. Don’t worry; I’m over it.”

As the year goes on, you end up partnering together for most of your projects, since both of you are taking the same major. By far, the two of you are the most competent at your majors in your year—Jihoon helps you with your acting classes, and you’re a stricter vocal coach than the one the school provides.

It’s easy for the two of you to slip into a routine, your training calendars syncing complementarily. It helps that you’re still in the audition process at a lot of different companies, so you can pick up his slack as a trainee. With a joint set of online notes, keeping up with different class material is simple, and any time you spend preparing for practical tests are moments for you to tutor him in math or for him to explain chemical reactions to you.

Both of you live at the school’s dorms, your roommates out often to do promotions. Jihoon’s room becomes your favourite study place, particularly because it’s big enough for you to practice dance routines. By your second term, you’ve practically moved in, the late nights cramming for yet another project ending with you asleep in his absent roommate’s bed.

Jihoon slips in and out of classes more often, the company he’s with telling him he’s likely to debut with a new group. You’re constantly texting him encouragement, taking pictures of the whiteboard in classes and the black bean noodles you’ll both eat as soon as he’s back from training. He finds himself missing you, though he never says so. Jihoon’s never been good at finding the right words to say, not the type to express emotions unless it’s necessary.

One day, he enters his room with a grim expression on his face. Immediately, you ask what’s wrong, and he hands you an envelope with x-rays of his knee.

“I can’t debut,” he says, his fists clenched tightly at his side. Without a word, you hug him, and for the first time since his short stint as an actor, Jihoon lets someone else see him cry, ugly sobs wracking his body as he pulls you close. The smell of your cucumber melon shampoo is comforting, and later, when he calms down, you hold his face in your hands.

“Not yet, you hear? ‘Can’t debut’ yet,” you say fiercely, looking into his eyes.

After that, something changes between you two, a subtle shift he can’t really identify. Your friendship becomes more tactile, you leaning on him whenever you’re on his bed watching choreography videos on your laptop, him resting his chin on your shoulder when you’re catching him up on what he’s missed.

It’s after a good day for both of you—he’s just signed with Maroo Entertainment, and you’ve gotten shortlisted as a trainee at two companies—that you decide to go out. You’re both done with your homework for the next day, and the guards are fond of you and unlikely to rat you out. You leave during study period right after lunch, and both of you rent out bikes for the afternoon, a welcome break from the tedium of school and work life.

You’re at a field near the school, the sun about to set, when you look over at him with a grin. “I’m grateful for the excellent chicken at lunch, the scenery we just saw, the companies who might be willing to accept my talents, and you,” you say, stretching your hands in the air. “What are you thankful for, Jihoonie?”

He considers for a moment before responding. “For Maroo and the chicken, yeah.” You push him playfully. “And you, I guess,” he says, smirking. As you bike back to school, Jihoon feels like he could fly.

It becomes a ritual for the two of you, and you end every night with a short list of what you’re grateful for. Not every day is as pleasant—both companies ultimately reject you, and you grow frustrated at having to start the search all over again. Jihoon’s fate is still in limbo at Maroo, as they’re unable to find a group that fits him. Somehow, though, saying thank you for something every day keeps him positive. Jihoon tells himself you’re only marginally to do with it, but he can’t help how much space you’ve carved for yourself in his heart.

Soon it’s your second year, and Jihoon begins to have a reputation at school, rejecting confessions left and right with a polite smile. With you, he expresses his frustration that they all see him as this perfect prince. You shrug, saying, “You’re building that image and it comes with it, Jihoonie. Only I know how much of a bastard you really are.”

You laugh and he groans, but he feels pleasantly warm. Jihoon takes comfort in that, that there’s someone who remembers he’s still a teenager, someone who’ll let him be awkward, who’ll critique him when he’s trying to come up with a memorable concept for himself and laugh in his face when he says something cringe-worthy. He almost dreads the day you’ll have less time for him, selfishly wanting to keep you to himself.

Jihoon thinks he’s jinxed it because soon you’re coming to him with a bright grin on your face, talking a mile a minute about how you’ve been signed at a hip-hop company like you’ve dreamed. They’ve made you sign a non-disclosure agreement about the details, but he can tell it’s a company that’ll take care of you. You’re out more often, and Jihoon sees you less and less because you’re always at trainings.

You come back with stories about the other trainees. “They’re really so amazing,” you say breathlessly, “like I’ve never seen so much talent condensed in so little space.” There’s a light in your eyes as you describe a particular one. “He was really shy at first, but he’s hilarious and so, so talented, especially when he dances!”

And Jihoon knows that look; it’s the same one you’d shot at him right before you confessed to him, hopeful and sweet. He can’t help but feel jealous, and it’s ridiculous because you’re much better friends now. He’s deeply involved in your life, as you are in his, and he knows he’s your best friend, the one who rejected your feelings at the beginning of it all.

But over the year he’s known you, Jihoon’s grown attached to the sound of your voice, to the warmth of your embrace, to the casual finger hearts you send his way when you feel him looking at you. You’re dear to him, he knows, and he might even like you that way. The problem, he knows, is that he’s not like you—he’s not a risk-taker. The thought of what might happen to your friendship if he says anything to change the balance you have now, the thought of not seeing you in his room at the end of every grueling day: these thoughts scare him.

You’re at your typical Saturday night haunt, a small coffeeshop that’s often empty besides the two of you, when Jihoon tells you the news that he’s been struggling to keep a secret from you. “There’s this show that I’ll be joining,” he says, his voice muffled by the mask he’s wearing. “It’s a popularity competition that’ll form a group of eleven at the end.”

“Is this Produce101?” you say quietly, looking at him. When he nods, your face breaks into a smile, and you reach out to take his hand. “That’s an amazing opportunity, Jihoon! I’ll be voting for you every day! When does it start?”

He fiddles with your fingers, his face apologetic. “Filming starts tomorrow. That’s why I really wanted to meet you today. Are you mad?”

“A little bit,” you say with a frown. “Now I can’t send you off with a cake or anything. Have you packed? We’re going to my house and I’m making you a care package with the snacks you’ve filled my fridge with!”

You spend the rest of the night in your room, talking about everything and nothing. Jihoon feels the ball of nerves in his stomach loosen a little in your presence, and he can’t help but stay out a little later than he’d promised the agency. Too soon, he asks for permission to leave, and you walk with him to your main door.

“Jihoon,” you say, pulling him close. In the dim light of your hallway, he can barely make out your features, but he looks anyway, trying to memorize the face he won’t be seeing for months. “You’ll kill it, okay? I have absolute faith in you.” You kiss him lightly on the cheek. “A good luck charm from the wicked witch of the School of Performing Arts,” you murmur, and Jihoon is glad that you can’t see him blush.

The next few weeks go by like a blur. Jihoon dives into it whole-heartedly, trying not to check his phone except in the shower, where there are no cameras. He knows exactly what the stakes are, what kind of image he needs to protect. Still, your silly texts and encouraging words are like quick moments that let him be himself.

[7:42 am] wow my best friend is a visual I CALLED IT FIRST

[9:05 pm] jihoonie let the kkukkukkakka die wat were u thinkin

[4:32 pm] VOTING FOR U!!!!!! u were the best in ur team obvs

Distance from you is more difficult than he thought it would be. You’ve wormed your way into his life deeper than he expected, and he misses the way you roll your eyes whenever someone says something awful, the random cute post-its you’d leave on his bed when you wouldn’t be at your shared room.

You’re in the crowd somewhere during finale night, a presence to comfort Jihoon even as he feels disappointed that he’s second place. He never lets it show on his face, and he wonders if you’ll know. When the cameras are off, he calls you first.

“Hey,” you say, “you’ve made it, winkboy! I’m so proud!” Jihoon says nothing, smiling at the sound of the voice he hadn’t heard in so long.

“Are you bitter you’re not first?” you say shrewdly. Jihoon makes a non-committal noise, hating and loving how easily you read his mind. “You’ve done a great job, Jihoon.” Your tone is soft, a comforting hug through the phone line, and it soothes some of the frustration in his heart. ��What’s important is what follows, yeah?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he says, the first thing he’s muttered since you picked up the line. “They’re giving me the weekend off.”

“Sunday,” you say, “I have stuff to take care of tomorrow.” There’s a guardedness to your tone that makes Jihoon nervous. “I love you, Jihoonie! See you!” His heart skips a beat at your words, and the reality of everything comes crashing down on him. The call ends before he can respond, and all the better.

Park Jihoon plans the Sunday meticulously. Maybe everything didn’t go as planned at Produce101, but your date with him will be perfect. It’ll lead up to his confession, with Jihoon finally admitting to the feelings he’s kept at bay forever.

You spend the first hour at the café, him sitting on the couch beside you as he whispers the things that weren’t caught on camera. You’re more radiant than he remembered, and each smile and laugh you send his way feeds the flame.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” you say, uncharacteristically shy. Warning bells go off in Jihoon’s head, and he’s glad for the mask because it means you can’t see him frown. “Someone from my company asked me out.”

He looks down for a minute, at a loss for words with you for the first time since you’d confessed, all those months ago.

“Don’t be mad,” you say, reading his confusion as anger. Jihoon can tell you’re really nervous about telling him this because normally you can tell exactly what he’s feeling. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“It’s okay,” he says, with a calmness he doesn’t really feel. “When do I get to meet this guy?”

You’re still not looking at him. Jihoon realizes with a start that it’s because you’re feeling guilty. “You know him already,” you say softly.

Jihoon connects the dots—hip-hop company, dancer—and figures it out right before you say it.

“I’m sorry I asked Woojinie to keep it from you!” you say, looking at him with your brows furrowed, biting at your lower lip. “I didn’t want to distract you while you were there.”

“Hey,” Jihoon says, “it’s okay. It’s okay. Let me walk you home?”

You’re both quiet as you walk the familiar path. He takes your hand to reassure you that he’s not mad at you, and soon he sees you relax in the corner of his eye. In no time, you’re at your front door, hidden from the world’s prying eyes by your gate.

Jihoon pulls off the mask and smiles at you. “What are you thankful for today?” he says lightly, reminding you of the game you used to play.

“I’m thankful I got to see you today,” you say, listing things out on your fingers, “thankful I got to catch up with you, and thankful you won.” You pause for a bit before saying, “What about you?”

“I’m thankful for you,” Jihoon says simply. You pull him close, and Jihoon closes his eyes, overwhelmed by emotions he can’t describe. He wants to laugh—he never expected you to matter this much to him. The two of you have terrible timing; you were too early, and now he’s too late. He wishes there were some kind of manual, that there were a clean-cut guide on how to fall in love. Instead, there was you, your quips and grins and this warm embrace, invading the carefully protected nooks of his heart.

Still, he knows he wants you in his life, in whatever capacity. Surrounded by your clean scent, Jihoon gathers up the courage to tell you how he feels, whispering into your hair, unsure whether you hear him.

You pull back too soon. “I love you too,” you say, your eyes bright. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah,” he says, and you kiss his cheek before closing the door with a smile. Jihoon keeps his grin on until you’ve closed the door, and only then does he start to think about what he’s lost.

#park jihoon #park jihoon imagines #park jihoon scenarios #wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines #[tbh i speed wrote this wtf ]#[ so many feels in one sitting ]#w1 #jihoon #jihoon fic #para fic #mywriting #mine

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discostozier · 7 years

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The Moment

Pairings: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Stanley Uris/Patricia Uris

Summary: “How do you even know that stuff?” He asked instead. In front of him, Beverly straightened. She appeared to think the question really carefully, just like she did on math exams. Ben looked at her, curious.

“Well, it depends on the person, right?” Eddie arched an eyebrow. She had a finger on her mouth and looked to be answering the question at the same time she was still thinking it over. “Maybe someone just suddenly knows, but I believe there’s a moment when you realize it”

Also on AO3

“So, guys…” With only hearing the tone on Beverly’s voice, Eddie felt a chill running down his spine. Judging by the way Stan was looking towards the redhead, he felt the same. “Tell me, how’ve you been?”

The question seemed so harmless that Eddie was about to answer it without really thinking. Thankfully, he had a lot of years of knowing Beverly that had trained him just enough to survive that kind of situation, at least for a little bit longer. Instead, he pretended to watch something really interesting across the room, just like he did in high school when the teacher asked a particularly hard question. In front of him, Beverly giggled, definitively enjoying everyone’s reactions.

“Easy there, I just want to know how you’ve been. Nothing out of normal” She said between laughter that eventually died down, but she never stopped smiling. “We haven’t seen each other for a long time, you know? At least not for talking”

Eddie frowned.

“But we gathered last week”

Beverly’s smile changed to something more… dangerous. Eddie knew that, in that moment, he had done something wrong.

“Well, yeah, but it has been so long since we talked, like, talk” She got her elbows on her knees just as she was speaking, making emphasis in the last bit of the sentence. She seemed to have them just where she liked, and it was just a matter of time to fall in her sweet smelling trap. He felt an itch in the palm of his hands, a sensation that urged him to grab his inhaler like a first defense. He was lucky, though, since he wasn’t her first victim. “Stan, how’s Patty?”

The change of tone was unbelievable. Without the little scene before, he would be defenseless against that sweet and charming tone that screamed innocence everywhere. Stan seemed to think the same as him, again, since he straightened in place, standing his ground.

Although, maybe, he was overreacting.

“Everything’s fine” Stan smiled, and his cheeks seemed to gain color. “In fact, everything’s really fine”.

“Oh!” Beverly chorused, visibly delighted. Eddie didn’t know Patty that well, but he knew that Stan was taking the relationship very seriously, and it had lasted longer than all the previous ones. The excitement the redhead was feeling was understandable, even himself was feeling a warm feeling of happiness for his friend. “You should invite her over next time”

“I don’t want to scare her, Bev”

Everyone laughed, with a nice silence afterward. Next to him, with that smile on his face, Stan seemed younger, like all of his worries were slowly fading away and taking the wrinkles with them. It was an image he always thought Stan lacked, so calm and smiling, forgetting his responsibilities just a bit.

(And he only thought of her…)

“So… you think she’s the one?” Beverly asked softly, getting Eddie out of his head. She looked like a kid again, excited for things that were not even for her. Although, looking at Ben sitting beside her, he was not sure about that last part.

Stan shrugged, but in his eyes Eddie understood: “Maybe, Beverly, maybe. I would like it to be, I have hope that it’d be, but I don’t want to say it aloud or else I’ll jinx it-“

Or something like that.

“How do you even know that stuff?” He asked instead. In front of him, Beverly straightened. She appeared to think the question really carefully, just like she did on math exams. Ben looked at her, curious.

“Well, it depends on the person, right?” Eddie arched his eyebrow. She had a finger on her mouth and looked to be answering the question at the same time she was still thinking it over. “Maybe someone just suddenly knows, but I believe there’s a moment when you realize”

“Like when you are oblivious to it happening until it’s too late?” Ben asked, speaking for the first time. He lowered his gaze, and it looked like he talked without knowing he had until it happened. Beverly nodded, with affection and tenderness in her whole face. For an instance, Eddie understood.

“Yeah” Her tone was so incredibly soft it got Eddie out of guard. It was full of a fondness she never used with Stan or Eddie or Mike. It was special, made just for Ben. “I’m one of those people, the ones that realize a little too late”

“How did you realize?” Eddie heard himself ask.

Beverly looked at him with a smile, and he saw that raw affection that seemed impossible. It left him astonished. She laughed a little, seemingly knowing that question was coming.

“Well, it was a few years ago, when we weren’t together yet.” She started telling her story with a carefree manner. Next to her, Ben jumped in his place a little and Eddie tried not to laugh. “It was October, when we celebrated Halloween together. We gathered a lot of crappy movies and a bunch of scary ones in Richie’s house, since his parents weren’t around for the night. We said we were kinda old to dress up and go trick or treating, but I think we just wanted to be together, free of homework and other things. I remember that we moved the screen to the living room, moved around a lot of furniture and made a pillow fort with all the sheets and pillows we could find to spend the night. We were ready for anything.”

Eddie remembered that night too. They had spent more than an hour moving the furniture until it was just right and everyone got a place to sleep. It was especially tiring, but at the end, it was one of the best nights of his life.

“I dunno why the hell you all went out, probably looking for something, but I cannot remember what” She laughed a little. “But Ben and I stayed alone in Richie’s living room for a few minutes. It’s nothing extravagant, but I recall talking about everything and anything, stupid things probably. Suddenly, that’s when I realized, all wrapped up like a burrito, and with Ben in front of me in a house that was not even mine. I realized that I didn’t mind being like that with him, at all. It was nice, and I caught myself thinking that I would like to do it again”

Her gaze was lost in front of her, absorbed in her memories. It was a moment so fragile and intimate that Eddie got scared of breaking with his breathing. She then smiled, and slowly, looked at Ben with that smile full of love, affection and everything good in the world. Ben gasped, with his eyes fixed on her too and Eddie turned his gaze away when he felt he was intruding. Next to him, Stan did the same.

“Wow…” He whispered.

“I know…”

A burst of laughter broke the silence. Beverly had a red face and her eyes were teary, with a smile so big it reached her eyes like the cherry on the pie. She was beautiful. Beside her, Ben hold her hands between his own and his skin was so flushed it matched her hair, but he seemed about to explode with happiness.

“Now I’d like to know what you have to say” She looked over to Stan. “Did it ever happen to you?”

Stan opened his mouth, closed it, thought the question over and then opened it again.

“It’ll sound cliché, surely.” He started with a mocking tone. “But I believe it was when we met each other, on the college club party. I was an exchange student from New York. I can remember her blue dress perfectly, just as our first chat. After the party, I was convinced she’d be my girlfriend”

And Stan was right, it was so cliché and typical it sounded straight out of a movie, just the kind that Eddie almost never watched because he prefered action movies, especially the ones with fancy cars. Beverly looked delighted.

“Surely she felt the same, right? Then she wouldn’t have said yes.”

Stan shrugged again.

“Maybe” He looked entertained with the whole situation, just a little bit flushed. He resembled a tipsy guy when they were only drinking soda. The beer would come next, with dinner and with everyone else. “What about you, Ben?”

Eddie felt like he dodged a bullet by miracle, his soul returning to his body. He turned to poor Ben, who had passed from a relaxed position to look like he had been caught doing something very wrong.

What did he do wrong? Being there, not talking first, fall in love…

“Well…” He shrank a little, probably wishing the Earth to swallow him whole, or to everyone to come back. Someone screaming “Murder!” would have work, too. “If the question is if I have had that moment…”

Everyone waited on the verge of the seat.

“… The answer is yes. Yes, of course”

Ben raised his gaze, and Eddie felt the same he did with Beverly. A shiver run down his spine and the hair on his nape stood on end. They seemed to release something special, some kind of energy that he didn’t know whether to admire or fear, especially when they were together. Sometimes, he needed to step back or to look away in case he went blind.

“If I remember correctly,” Ben said even when nobody asked his explanation. There was no problem, of course, but now Eddie felt like he couldn’t be the only one not telling anything about those moments. “It was when we were in school. It was not a specific moment, more like the total of those moments. Every time Bev spoke to me or touched me just by accident. Sometimes we got together for a project. At the end of the year, I was head over heels for her.”

There was a deafening silence.

“When you said was that?”

“Ah, I dunno. Probably in fourth or fifth grade” Ben said like it was nothing.

Stan whistled quietly.

“That’s compromise” Eddie whispered, Ben gasped, Stan nodded and Beverly sighed. She kissed her partner’s cheek and smiled against his skin. Eddie looked away again, feeling like an intruder.

“Oh my god, there are other people in the room.” He said when it was too much, making Beverly laugh.

“Then what about you, Eddie? How is everything going with our favorite buffoon?” Beverly attacked, and it was that exact moment he wanted to avoid with all the force in the world. Damn his mouth. He narrowed his eyes at her, but it just got her laughing again. She was red all over the face, but Eddie didn’t know if it was for her never ending laughter or if it was for her previous actions. Nevertheless, it bothered him a lot.

“As well as it can go with someone that makes stupid voices and has ventriloquism tendencies”

“So that bad, eh?” Stan mocked, and Eddie tried to kill him with his gaze.

“C’mon, Eddie. Don’t be like that. Everyone else said our Moment. What’s yours, Eddie?”

What’s your Moment, Eddie?

“I… don’t have a moment” He said, crossing his arms and falling onto the cushion pillows. Stan arched an eyebrow, challenging him, and Beverly sighed. Just as she was going to say that was a lie, and why it was a lie, the door opened with a loud sound.

“Honey, I’m home!”

“Speaking of the devil…” Whispered Stan.

“Ah? Were you talking about me? I know I’m everyone’s gossip but at least wait until I’m present.”

“So it gets to your head? No thanks” Someone said behind Richie. Mike entered the room with a bag full of plastic containers. At last was Bill, with even more containers and the keys at hand.

“I a-guh-guh-gree with Mike on this o-one. “He said, locking the door and heading to the kitchen to leave everything there.

“Ouch”

“Me too.” Eddie said.

“Double ouch”

After that, everything became a chaos of laughter and talking. Stan and Ben left the couch to help the new guests with the food. Richie left with them, with a bag of soda in one hand and a six pack on the other. Eddie watched him go until he disappeared behind the kitchen door and he could only hear his voice.

“Are you sure you don’t have a moment?” He raised his head after hearing Beverly’s soft voice. They seemed to share a secret, and for a moment, Eddie felt like he was in middle school, sharing secrets between recesses. He smiled at her and laid a hand on her shoulder, but didn’t answer her question.

“Better be going with everyone else, before there’s nothing left.” He said and raised from his place, extending a hand to Beverly, who didn’t need it but still took it. They walked to the kitchen, and in the way he could almost hear her thoughts. The problem was that he wasn’t ready to talk about it with such ease like Ben, Stan or Beverly. Just thinking about made him want his inhaler in hand.

Eddie Kaspbrak, in fact, had a “moment”. It wasn’t a very far away memory like Ben’s or a close one like Stan’s. It wasn’t simple like Beverly’s either, but it was his. And he probably would never tell it, not even to Richie in his deathbed, but if he were to tell the story, he surely would start telling that they were young, living the moment before it was too late.

“I was a fool. But Richie was even fooler, even more than before as unbelievable as it sounds. He had his head on fantasies and dreams to come true, while I had mine on a textbook almost every night, and waited impatiently the end of the year, and with that, the end of college. “ He would say with a nice and funny voice, and for an instant, he felt like he was telling the story to his children, or his grandchildren. Hallucinations, surely, he was still young to think about that kind of things.

“Looks like you’ve still got that head of yours in that book, Eds” Richie had said that night when they were still in college. Almost every day, at night time, Richie used to go to his house without further notice and climb through his window. Sometimes to talk, sometimes to bother him. Eddie was grateful when it was to talk since he could forget his duties for a moment, and liked it even more when he invited Eddie somewhere. He normally declined, because he couldn’t afford an attitude so relaxed so close to finals.

That time, be it by destiny or Richie’s insistence, he said yes.

They had walked down the street, leaving the car a few blocks before, just talking about everything and anything, enjoying the nice weather, and ended on the Kissing Bridge, again by destiny or any of Richie’s doing. Thinking about it now, though, it was ironic they ended up there, especially because that night was everything but romantic.

“Just worried about the exams, that’s all.” He said and looked back, thinking about going home and study for three more hours before going to bed. Some pills would help him sleep, maybe. “And you should, too”

Richie shrugged. Under the dim light of a lamp post he seemed even taller. Maybe even creepy.

“I firmly believe that you should have trust in your knowledge, Eds. I’m not really into stressing the hell out of me the night before a test. I don’t wanna grow old so fast” Richie said. If he was another person, Eddie wouldn’t have believed any of it but a nonsense, and that he was just fooling around and never doing anything. Sadly, Richie Tozier still was Richie Tozier, but just for a more mature audience: he still got A’s and B’s without a seemingly amount of effort.

Eddie snorted.

“I don’t like it when you call me Eds, y’know it, I don’t know why you keep doing it”

“Nah, you love it” Richie shrugged. He got on the railing of the bridge and sit down like it was the most comfortable place in the world. Eddie got a mini heart attack right there, thinking he would fall off. But since nothing happened, he got closer to the railing and laid on it beside Richie’s legs.

“Of course not” He claimed, but it only tasted like half a truth. When he looked over at Richie, next to him and with the dim light over their heads, he felt a tug in his stomach. It wasn’t romantic, it was ridiculous and even kind of scary, since Richie resembled a gargoyle with that position. But he still felt it. He looked down, not without seeing Richie’s cocky smile.

A silence fell afterward, and Eddie would treasure it for a lot of years. Those moments were weird with someone like Richie, and it felt special. It wasn’t awkward, it was nice and neither of them felt like breaking it. However, when he sensed a hand in his hair, he broke that silence with a little sigh. Richie gasped, like his reaction was the most interesting thing in the world.

He closed his eyes with a slight tremble all over his body. He pressed the railing with a lot of force, until he got white knuckles, and waited. And kept waiting, for something, anything, but it never came. Instead, he only heard a scream and a series of mix-up curses.

He opened his eyes, and this time he got a heart attack.

“Richie!” He screamed with the force his lungs could muster and looked over the railing. Down, just where the water and the dirt mushed together, Richie was sprawled and not moving. At all

“I’m gonna kill him,” He thought while going down in a hurry to his dying friend. “This time I’m gonna kill him”

Eddie kneeled beside him, getting mud on his pants. Richie seemed to have an unbelievable luck, though, as his head hadn’t hit any rock just by centimeters. Still, the water was getting dyed of a gross red and Eddie was getting panicked. He cradled his head with his right hand on his lap,

He jumped, though, surprised and relieved when Richie opened his eyes with his glasses crooked.

“I defeated Raleigh” Richie said with a raspy and deep voice. It was like he was doing one of his voices, one Eddie didn’t recognize. “I found the greatest treasure of them all.” Then he raised one of his hand and touch Eddie’s cheek with a soft stroke, and he fainted.

“Such idiot…” Eddie whispered, blushing furiously. He felt like his lungs were no longer working and that he was the one who fell from the Kissing Bridge. But now was not the moment to feel like a head over heels high schooler, since he needed to take Richie to the hospital, something that seemed very hard with the car so far away.

At the end, he was able to do it, even though he surely left behind a lung on the way. The path to the hospital was quiet until Richie woke up. He was half conscious, wet, and sprawled all over the backseat of the car. He grunted and held his head. Eddie immediately felt bad, but he was still mad at him for doing such a stupid thing to do like sitting on the Kissing Bridge’s railing in the middle of the night.

“You wouldn’t have a ciggie on you, right?” Richie asked and Eddie denied with his head without looking away from the road. He vaguely heard Richie slowly moving stuff around in the backseat, and then finally a lighter. He was pretty curious about where the fuck Richie got a lighter and a cigarette, but didn’t say anything about it.

However, when they were about to reach the hospital, he looked through the rearview one last time. He only looked over two seconds, maximum, but in those two seconds he felt a stab in his heart and an affection he didn’t know he could feel. He could easily tell the pain Richie was feeling, but he noticed his stance with detail, with his legs almost not fitting in the car and the way his wet clothes clung to his body in a way that could only be uncomfortable. He even noted the way he smoked the fucking cigarette, how his lips-

He gasped, and Richie didn’t hear him, thankfully. After that, his gaze never left the road, they had had enough accidents tonight. He only felt like breathing again until they reached the hospital, although he never used his inhaler.

Richie didn’t know, but that was an especial moment for Eddie. Maybe it wasn’t the moment he fell for the guy, like Ben or Bev or Stan, but it was the moment he was sure he could do it. He could give himself to this boy who loves making obnoxious jokes and didn’t know when to shut up, that had puppets too creepy for Eddie’s liking and his biggest dream was to be famous and in the show-business.

And he wouldn’t regret a single bit.

#stephen king's it #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #stanley uris #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #the losers club #reddie #benverly #i dunno the tag for stan and patty #stan/patty #one shot #writing thing #english

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