Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Richie Tozier is a fan of routine. He likes to make schedules and plan out his weeks in advance. He dislikes change. That said, he doesn't share the organized, neurotic parts of himself with most people. He's not a fucking nerd. He keeps a lot of things to himself, actually. Like, for example, the fact that his parents are hardly ever home or the way that he writes poetry. The parts of himself that he doesn't share with others are embarrassing, in his opinion. No one needs to know. 

Part of Richie's routine is to wake up at 5:45 every morning. He typically stays in bed for an extra few minutes, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and when his 5:50 alarm goes off, he drags himself out of bed and over to his closet, which is organized by color. He gets a feel for his mood of the day and tries to match his mood with one of the vibrantly colored shirts he owns and he goes from there. After getting his clothes together, he heads to the bathroom and strips off his pajamas. He then washes his face, brushes his teeth, and decides if his hair looks decent or if he needs to do something with it. Then, he gets dressed, picks out a pair of shoes, and heads downstairs with his car keys and his backpack. 

Richie very pointedly skips breakfast, opting for either a glass of water or some instant coffee. Once the clock hits 6:30, he opens his phone and texts the group chat to say "morning, losers" and asks who needs a ride today. Richie is one of the only sophomores with a car--a beat-up Subaru Outback gifted to him by his mother as an "I'm sorry we're never home to drive you anywhere. Past your test and you can do it yourself" present. Whatever, you know? At least he can drive. 

Being the only Loser with a car besides Mike, who uses his grandpa's pick-up truck sometimes, Richie finds himself giving everyone rides all the time. He doesn't really mind it. It makes him feel useful; like he has a purpose in the group. On this particular morning, Eddie and Bill need a ride but Beverly's aunt is driving her to school, Mike doesn't go to school, Ben is out sick, and Stanley's dad is making him go to the temple before school. Bill is closer to Richie than Eddie is, technically, so Richie drives there first. 

Bill is waiting in the front, tapping away at his phone, when Richie pulls into the driveway. "Hey, Big Bill," Richie calls out, rolling down the window. "Looking mighty fine this morning."

Bill laughs and rolls his eyes, getting into the passenger seat. He puts on his seatbelt and Richie waves to Georgie, who is grinning at the front door. Bill's mother urges Georgie to come back inside and Bill rolls his eyes at her. Bill and his parents don't get along very well. They haven't really since Georgie got kidnapped a few years ago and Bill's dad left.

"How are you today, mate?" Richie asks in one of his favorite accents as he backs out of the driveway and starts toward Eddie's house. 

"Fine," Bill shrugs. It looks like he wants to say more so Richie frowns. 

"Everything okay?" Richie asks. He's not a total dick and even though he goes too far a lot of the time, he would like to consider himself a decent friend. 

"Yeah," Bill nods and he seems to be telling the truth. "G-G-Georgie, m-Mom, and I had a f-f-fight this m-mo-morning about her f-forcing him to be h-home-schooled after all this t-t-time. Like, I g-get it, al-almost losing G-G-Georgie was t-terrif-fying and I want more than any... anyth-thing for him to be s-safe but he w-wants--he needs--s-some s-social intera-action with p-p-people his own age."

Richie parks the car outside of Eddie's house and shoots him a quick "here" text before turning to Bill. "Fuck, dude," Richie winces slightly, feeling awkward and insufficient. "I can't imagine what it's been like for you and Georgie living in that house with her after everything. I wish she would listen to reason. I mean, I feel like if my kid had been through what Georgie had, I would also want to shelter them, but, like, I would also need to take into account how the child feels. For that matter, I don't think she's done enough to check on you and keep you safe. You were hurt by it all, too, obviously. I mean, shit, we took down that fucking creep together." Richie pauses, seeing Bill's slightly shocked face. "Fuck, sorry, I know I'm totally overstepping and I shouldn't have said anything but like fuck your mom. Ha, I do. Fuck, sorry. Anyway, do you want to--"

"Ugh," Eddie says, climbing into the backseat. "It smells overwhelmingly of weed and stupidity in this car."

Richie feels a twinge of hurt and annoyance at the words. He wants to say, "Then why do you ask me to pick you up and drop you off every day?" but he doesn't. He would never want to hurt Eddie's feelings. Instead, he swallows down his anxiety and his emotions and he plasters a fake grin on his face. "Spaghetti! How are you today, Eddie, my love?" he asks as he starts driving in the direction of the school.

"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes. "Has he been talking your ear off all morning, Bill?"

Bill looks a bit uncomfortable and he frowns for a moment before shrugging. "I mean, it's R-Richie."

Richie tries to show any semblance of emotion on his face, opting to turn up his music and stare straight ahead as he enters the school lot and parks near the back. His phone starts buzzing and he huffs, pulling it out of his pocket to see that Beverly is calling him. He answers, "Hello?"

"Hey, sexy," Bev says loudly into the phone. "Where are you? Stan and I are at the benches."

"Just parked," Richie says, not bothering to show any emotion on his face since he can't see him. "We'll head your way."

"Hurry!" She squeals into the phone before hanging up. 

"Watching you talk on the phone is so fucking weird," Eddie says as he unbuckles his seatbelt. "You're so..."

"N-nonchalant," Bill offers with a thoughtful look on his face. 

Richie doesn't really have an answer to that so he settles for shrugging and grinning at Eddie. "So, Eds, did your mom and I keep you up last night? I told her to be quiet but--"

"Beep beep, fuckface," Eddie glares as they walk over to the benches at the side of the school where Bev and Stan are sitting. Upon spotting them, Stanley sits up straighter and nudges Beverly, who grins at them. 

Richie goes through the motions and makes horrible jokes that get him beeped, like he always does, but he feels kind of empty. It's weird. Around lunchtime, Richie decides to text Mike and see what he's doing. Richie loves Mike because Mike has never made him feel hated. Mike is the only Loser that Richie can say for sure does not hate him... at least he thinks. 

ricardo! hey!!!! how art thou, sweet michael?

homeschool :) Hey rich! i just got finished feeding the chickens

homeschool :) how is public school today

ricardo! shitty fr 

ricardo! missing my favorite farmer </3

homeschool :) i miss you too, Rich

homeschool :) are you guys at lunch 

ricardo! yessir

homeschool :) mhm what r u eating???

ricardo! oh uh

ricardo! the food 

homeschool :) cap i'm asking Stan 

Richie groans as he watches the entire table get notifications in the group chat at once. Until this point, they hadn't noticed Richie's lack of lunch. They would now, though. Sighing, Richie opens the message along with everyone else. 

lovsers | 12:13 pm

micycle hey guys what is Richard eating for lunch today?

Richie pointedly ignores Stanley when he glances over at the obviously empty area in front of Richie and huffs. "Richie," the curly haired boy says with a sigh. "Where is your lunch? You literally went through the line with us."

"He didn't," Eddie shakes his head. "He went around a got a strawberry milk that he didn't open and passed off to Bev."

lovsers | 12:17 pm

spageds he's apparently not having anything 

micycle RICHARD 

micycle you lied to me :((((((

bitchie NOOO MIKE IM SORRY

bitchie i'll grba something 

bitchie scouts honor or whteva

stantheman He's right. 

stantheman I'm going to go through the line with him. 

stantheman Thanks, Mike. 

softy oh fuck is rich not eating again :(

molly ringwald look what you did richie 

molly ringwald you made ben sad 

Richie quickly puts his phone away and stands. Stan follows suit and waits until they're a safe distance away to turn to Richie with a frown. "We talked about this, Rich," Stan says in a disappointed tone as he leads him through the line. Richie ends up getting some cucumbers from the salad bar, some Italian dressing to dip them in, and a juice box. Stan looks like he wants to protest but settles for frowning deeper. "Did you eat this morning?"

"Yeah," Richie lies with a shrug. "Mom was in for a few hours on Tuesday and dropped off some Poptarts and stuff. I ate one of them." 

Stan sighs and walks back to the lunch table with Richie, opting not to say anything else but squeezing Richie’s hand reassuringly in his own. 

Richie’s heart jumps to his throat immediately and he flushes a bright red. He flusters extremely easily when he gets positive attention, which is honestly a rarity. 

He squeezes back, flashing Stan a falsely confident smile as he takes his seat between Stan and Eddie once more. 

Bill, who is sitting directly across from him, shoots him a look that Richie cannot decipher. He spends the rest of the lunch period trying to understand what Bill was trying to convey with his bright, big eyes. 

Richie skips his sixth period to smoke a cigarette under the bleachers with Bev. He hates sixth period. It’s science and while he loves the subject, he absolutely detests his arrogant, ignorant teacher. Ms. Hoffman is a mean woman; she never explains anything the correct way and she yells. Richie doesn’t like yelling. Now, don’t get Richie wrong. He absolutely has a 97% A in the class, which Ms. Hoffman hates more than anything. 

He doesn’t like the way she talks to her students, specifically Eddie. Eddie has a thing about germs, everyone knows that. Including Ms. Hoffman. She doesn’t care and she’s awfully rude when Eddie has mini-freak outs about the labs. 

Richie gets kicked out for arguing with her sometimes. Whatever. So today, he’s just skipping. 

Richie flicks the ash from the end of his menthol cigarette. He likes menthols because the green color on the box satisfies him in an inexplicable way. 

He takes a drag, letting the smoke fill his mouth and then his lungs before he exhales the white, thick, toxic cloud. He smiles to himself as he takes another drag. He doesn’t smoke cigarettes often. He much prefers weed but sometimes, he gets the urge to smoke and all he has are cigs. The fact that they help suppress his appetite is a bonus, so they’ll do. 

Beverly is quiet as she smokes her own cigarette, oddly quiet today. 

“Something on your mind, Ringwald?” Richie asks after he finishes his cigarette. He puts the bud out on his thigh and pulls out one of the little baggies he carries with him to dispose of the butts. 

“Nothing really,” Bev smiles at him. “Just thinking about Ben.”

Richie smiles back at her, wiggling his eyebrows as he watches her put her cigarette out on the bleacher and offers his the baggie. “Mighty fine, that Ben,” Richie jokes gently. “Are you guys together yet?” 

“No,” Bev’s smile drops a bit. “I’m not sure that we will, Richie.” 

Richie knows what Beverly is expecting; what she wants. Richie is supposed to disregard what she’s saying and make a stupid joke about sex or something. Richie is supposed to be her comedic relief. Richie’s a little melancholy today, though, so he huffs a small laugh and says, “Yeah, I get that.” 

Beverly looks surprised. “You do?” She sounds skeptical and Richie doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be offended or not. 

“Yeah,” Richie shrugs like it’s no big deal. Maybe it isn’t. “Sometimes what you want, what you need, and what you can actually do don’t match up.” 

Before Bev can respond to Richie’s oddly deep words, the bell rings. Time for seventh period, the class that Richie shares with Bill, Stan, and Eddie. The original four or something like that. 

“Ah, I must take my leave, Miss Marsh,” Richie says, tipping his imaginary hat. “Good day to ya, sweetheart.” 

He throws away the cigarette butts in a trashcan outside the school and makes his way to his English class. He secretly loves this class. He takes his usual seat in the back of the room, behind Stan and beside Eddie, who’s behind Bill. 

Gretta Bowie is on his other side, popping her gum obnoxiously. God, he hates sitting near her. She’s so fucking loud and the lights in this room are so fucking bright. 

“Afternoon, Stan the Man,” Richie greets, like he does every day. “Miss me?” 

“You wish, Rich,” Stan rolls his eyes. 

“H-How was y-your sm-sm-smoke?” Bill asks him. 

“Orgasmic,” Richie blurts out without thinking. “It really hit the spot, if you know what I mean.” 

“You’re disgusting and so is smoking,” Eddie scoffs, his usual scowl on his pretty little face. “Cigarettes are just gross.” 

Richie feels oddly embarrassed by Eddie’s words and he ducks his head a bit, opening his mouth to reply, but he’s saved from whatever stupidity he was about to spew when the teacher enters the room.

Now, Richie adores Miss Bair. She’s in her late twenties, she has bright red hair, and she’s an open lesbian. She loves literature—specifically the works of Sappho—and she has a picture of her partner on her desk. Miss Bair loves Richie; she says she sees his potential. He guesses that’s a fair assessment, considering he puts his heart and soul into each and every writing assignment she gives them. He loves to write, especially for this class, because he knows that the person reading his papers cares about his thoughts. 

Today, they’re covering some basics of poetry. Richie’s secretly a sucker for poetry. Miss Bair has chosen Annabelle Lee as their example this week and they’re meant to analyze it for homework and turn it in later in the week. 

Richie can’t wait to work on it at home. He’s practically buzzing the entire rest of the school day and when the final bell rings, he practically bolts out the doors and to his car. Richie is giving everyone a ride over to Ben’s house today, where they’ll be meeting Mike and checking on their Loser. 

This time, Eddie is in the front and Bev, Bill, and Stan are piled in the backseat. Richie is barely aware of his surroundings as he drives them to Ben’s house, tapping his fingers to the rhythm of Drown by The Smashing Pumpkins as he pulls into the driveway and parks.

“…chie! Richie! What the fuck?” Eddie snaps, causing Richie to snap his head to look at Eddie, frowning. 

“Why are you yelling, Eds? All you had to do was—“ Richie starts but Stanley cuts him off. 

“Rich, we’ve been trying to talk to you for literally the entire drive. Where were you?” Stan sounds almost concerned. 

Richie flushes red and rubs the back of his neck. “Shit, sorry. I was really focused on driving, I guess I didn’t even register anything else.” 

“It’s fine,” Bev waves him off. “We were just asking if you had to be home by a certain time.” 

“Oh,” Richie nods in understanding. “Uh, I don’t think so? My parents aren’t in town this week so it doesn’t really matter.” 

“Cool,” Bev grins at him. “Let’s go see the boy!” 

Mike pulls in a few seconds later and greets Richie with a hug. Richie is thankful for the contact; it’s warm and grounding. He needs it. 

Their visit with Ben is nice, it’s easy. They decide to watch and movie and order some pizza since Ben’s mom is at work and won’t be home any time soon. 

Around eight, Eddie’s mom calls so Richie offers to drive Eddie home and come back for the rest of them after so they can visit with Ben a bit longer. 

Everyone agrees so Richie and Eddie gets into the car and head to Sonia’s. 

“Thanks,” Eddie says, his voice softer than usual. 

“I am but your humble servant, Eds,” Richie replies with an easy smile. God, he’s fucking whipped. It’s embarrassing. 

“Sorry for being a dick today,” Eddie says shyly. 

Richie’s smile tightens. This is a semi-regular occurrence. Eddie gets super mean sometimes (more than usual) and then, once he and Richie are alone, he apologizes so sweetly that Richie can’t help but accept. Not that he’d consider anything else. He’s fucking whipped, remember? 

“It’s fine,” Richie whispers as he pulls up in front of Eddie’s house. “Need a ride tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “Later, Rich.” 

And then he’s gone. And with him, he takes a piece of Richie. 

Chapter Text

Richie lays awake, as he often does, and stared at his ceiling as he takes a puff from his second bowl of the hour. He smiles lightly at nothing, his earbuds blaring his Mayonaise by The Smashing Pumpkins on repeat. He feels floaty; he feels everything and nothing all at once. 

It’s nearing three in the morning and Richie Tozier is wide awake. Richie Tozier is everything and nothing, all at once. 

He finishes off the bowl and relaxes into his carpet, tapping his fingers to the beat as he sings softly along to the song. 

After a few moments of relaxing like that, Richie drags himself off of the floor and over to the door. He exits his room and walks down the hall, opening the second door on the left. 

This is his art room. His instruments are in here—a piano, his collection of guitars, and a set of drums—as well as his art and writing supplies—canvases, both used and unused, endless paints, drawing papers, sketchbooks; writing tools, and journals. 

He walks over to his paints and grabs a smaller, blank canvas. He grabs a hair clip from the table—the pink one that he always uses in these private moments—and clips his curls out of his face. Once that’s done, he picks up a large brush and sets everything up on the easel. 

He paints for the remainder of the morning, still adding little details—and still listening to Mayonaise—when his 5:45 alarm goes off. 

He steps back from his work carefully, splotches of paint covering his hands and nails. He smiles at the painting. The picture shows a group of people holding hands at the Hollywood sign, which overlooks a city of lights. 

He leaves the painting to dry and goes to clean up. Once he’s scrubbed the paint from his skin and picked out a bright green long-sleeve top, some black overalls, and some green converse, he gets himself dressed and decides to switch his pink clip for a green one, leaving his hair halfway pinned up. 

He grabs his phone off the charger and notices 74 unread messages in the group chat. He opens the chat as he grabs an apple off the counter and takes a bite. 

lovsers | 6:03 am 

micycle where is richinald

billiam  @bitchie @bitchie @bitchie

bitchie yo 

stantheman Where the hell have you been? 

spageds hopefully sleeping 

bitchie nope! i was with eds’ mom

molly ringwald LMAO 

soft boi oop lmao

bitchie whom am i picking up? 

billiam me blease 

stantheman Me, as well. 

spageds ^ 

molly ringwald also me 

soft boi is there room for me? 

bitchie sure 

bitchie @billiam omw be ready 

Richie closes the chat, locks his phone, and throws away his uneaten apple. He grabs his car keys off the hook and starts driving to Bill’s house. 

As usual, Bill is waiting on the porch with Georgie, who waves excitedly at Richie. 

Richie smiles and waves back as Bill gets in the passenger seat of Richie’s car. “Morning, Darlin’,” Richie winks at Bill as he backs out of the driveway. 

“H-Hey, R-Rich,” Bill replies with an eye roll. His expression is fond, though, and when Richie turns away Bill can't help but keep staring at him. 

“Tell Stanley to be ready,” Richie says as he gets back on the road. He taps his fingers to the beat of the song playing from his Spotify playlist and glances over at Bill, who is still staring at him. “Did you eat breakfast, my sweet William?” 

Bill rolls his eyes at the nickname and nods his head. “Y-Yeah, I made Eg-ggos for Georgie and I h-had some, t-t-to-oo. Did y-you ea-eat?” 

“I did,” Richie says, truthfully. "Mike picked me some apples from the big tree behind his house last week and dropped them off."

"You only had o-o-one a-apple?" Bill squints at him, studying. "Are y-you st-still hu-un-ngry, ba...uh, R-Rich?"

Richie raises an eyebrow at the slip, wondering what Bill was going to call him. Bitch? Babe? Baddie? He's not sure. "Not really," Richie shrugs. "It's too early to eat."

"Okay," Bill concedes, hitting skip on Richie's playlist. Early Sunsets Over Monroeville by My Chemical Romance begins playing as Richie pulls into Stanley's driveway. 

Stan climbs carefully into the car and Richie beams at his friend when he nudges Bill over into the front console seat and takes the passenger seat. "Interesting music choice," Stan comments, shooting Richie a knowing look. "Depressed much?"

“Fuck off," Richie says with a small laugh. "One of you text Beverly to get ready.” 

Soon enough, he’s pulling up in front of Beverly’s house and the girl is opening his door to give him a peck on the cheek before taking her seat in the back, behind Bill so she has a better view of Richie. Her words. 

After they’ve got Bev, they drive to the next street over and grab Eddie, who protests Richie’s car as usual. 

"Richie, for the love of fuck, stop hot-boxing this mother fucking car," Eddie groans as he slides in next to Bev. 

Everyone laughs and Richie rolls his eyes. "No," he sticks his tongue out. "She likes it."

Once they’ve got Ben, they make their way to the school. It’s not too far from Ben’s house so it only takes about five minutes. Richie parks in his usual spot and pops an edible gummy to get through the day. He washes the taste out with some water and locks the car. He trails behind the group as they walk to their usual spot by the benches to wait for the bell to ring. 

“You look so cute today,” Bev tells Richie as they sit down beside each other. She hands him her vape and he takes a hit of it, blowing the smoke out between their faces. "I wanna kiss your face."

“Why, thank you,” Richie says in a playful voice, blushing a bit. “You’re too kind, Miss Marsh.” 

“You do look really cute,” Stanley pipes up from where he’s perched on the edge of the bench on Bev’s other side. He reaches out to run a gentle hand through Richie's curls. “Especially your hair. It looks adorable like that.” 

Richie blushes deeper and averts his gaze. “You sure know how to make a girl blush, Stangela,” Richie says in a girly little voice, sighing in contentment when Beverly begins to play with his hair. 

Stan smiles sweetly at him, a rare moment. Stan is usually only nice to him when they’re alone. It’s nice to have his friend’s positive attention in public. 

“Hey, Rich,” Ben leans over, holding out his math notebook. “This algebra is kicking my ass. Can you please help me?” 

“Richie isn’t even in algebra,” Eddie points out, momentarily pausing his conversation with Bill. “I doubt he remembers how to do it. I’m still convinced that he cheated his way into advanced trig.” Eddie sounds slightly bitter, probably because he kind of sucks at math. 

Richie feels a slight sting at Eddie’s implication of both his stupidity and dishonesty but instead of snapping at Eddie like he wants to, or bursting into tears like he needs to, he shoots his friend a fake smile. “Whatever you say, Spaghetti.” 

Eddie looks a little put off by Richie’s lack of engagement but ultimately decides to continue talking to Bill while Richie leans over to walk Ben through his algebra homework. 

“You’re a damn genius,” Beverly says in disbelief, peering over Richie’s shoulder as he explains some concepts to Ben, who is starting to understand. “I literally have a D in algebra. Can you fucking tutor me?"

"Of course, sweets," Richie tells her, cupping her face in his hands. He pecks her on the nose, causing her to swoon. Bill laughs at her reaction and she glares at him, flipping him off.

“I have a D in trig,” Stan says with a little pout, pushing himself closer into Richie's space “The concepts are so fucking hard."

“Why didn’t you say something, Staniel?” Richie grins at him, ruffling the other boy's hair. “You know I’ll help you if you ask.” 

“I know,” Stanley says dryly, pulling away from Richie slightly. “Asking for your help will be my absolute last resort, I assure you.” 

Everyone laughs, including Richie (although he is a little quieter and a little less humored than the others). He suddenly feels suffocated and tearful. Fuck. He needs to get the fuck out of there.

“Fuck,” Richie says suddenly, standing up from the bench and grabbing his bag. “I totally forgot that I have fucking AP homework due today. I need to go find someone to borrow a book from and get on that shit or I'll ruin my GPA." 

It’s a lie, of course. Richie did his AP homework last Friday, the day it was assigned, and his book is in his bag. He also has a perfect GPA. He doesn’t give anyone the chance to call him out on it, quickly booking it down the hall and down to the art classroom. 

Richie adores Mr. Carter, the art teacher at Derry High School. Mr. Carter is an easy-going thirty-something man with long hair, green eyes, and a passion for creativity. 

When Richie took an introductory art class in freshmen year—just for fun—he met Mr. Carter and the two of them instantly hit it off. Mr. Carter loved that Richie’s outward personality transferred to his art, with the added details of the hints of himself that he dare not share with the outside world. 

When Richie’s thoughts got too loud, Mr. Carter allowed him to spend the lunch period in the art room, painting or sculpting, or sketching out his frustrations. On those days, he told his friends that he had lunch detention. They easily believed him. 

Richie knocks on Mr. Carter’s open door and waves awkwardly when the man stands to greet him. “Richie!” The man says with a smile. “Good morning. How are you today?” 

“I’m alright, sir,” Richie tells him, unsure if he's lying or not. He feels odd. “How are you?” 

“Same old,” Mr. Carter shrugs. “Can’t complain, honestly. What brings you here so early?"

“I stayed up all night painting,” Richie gushes at the prompt. “I just couldn’t stop! It was like… it was like my hand—and the brush, by extension—had a mind of its own! I kept adding detail after detail until it felt right."

“That sounds wonderful,” The man tells him, sounding genuinely interested. “Did you take any pictures of your painting?” 

“I did,” Richie nods, unlocking his phone to look for the photos he had taken. “Here.” 

Mr. Carter’s eyes widen at the images and his face breaks out into a massive grin. “Shit, Richie, this is so cool! I love it!” 

“Thank you,” Richie blushes a bit at the compliments. “I was really proud of it.” 

“You have every right to be,” Mr. Carter assures. “Well, you have about fifteen minutes before the first-period bell. Do you wanna start on another masterpiece?” 

“Always,” Richie beams, taking a seat at the back table. He pulls out his sketch pad and starts to draw a Red Bull can because, well, why not? 

When the bell rings, Richie puts the sketch into his bag and bids his teacher farewell before making his way to first period. He shares this class with Beverly, Eddie, and Stanley. They share a table toward the back of the room, with Bev and Richie sitting beside one another and Eddie and Stan across from them, respectively. 

When Richie arrives, his friends are already seated and he smiles at them lovingly as he takes his seat. Eddie trails off, his eyes following Richie's lips. 

“What are we talking about?” He asks them. “Eddie’s mom?” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie snaps with a growl, ducking his head to hide his blush. “We’re talking about the damn football game. Are you coming?” 

Richie frowns in thought. “When is that again?” 

“Friday after next,” Bev answers with a smile, patting his cheek. “We were thinking of going since it’s the first of the season. Are you in?” 

Richie shrugs. “Why not?” 

“Sweet,” Bev cheers, causing Stan to roll his eyes with a fond smile on his face. Richie wishes he’d look at him that way. 

Soon, the lesson starts and Richie feels so bored he’s sure his brain will explode. He quickly grabs his sketch pad and starts adding details to his simple drawing on the Red Bull can. He adds the calories, the little bulls, and even a shaded shadow. He takes out a few colored pencils and colors the picture, nodding in satisfaction when it’s done. 

He moves to put his things away, noticing that the boring lecture is still going on, and Stan grabs his hand. 

Richie freezes, shooting his friend a questioning look. Stan motions to the drawing, eyes curious, and Richie shrugs, handing it over. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes out quietly as he leans over to inspect Richie’s work. “That’s so realistic. I didn’t know you knew how to draw like that.” 

Bev snatches the pad and her eyes widen. “Fuck, babe, did you trace this?” 

Richie scoffs, offended. “Of course, I didn’t fucking trace it,” he huffs at her, grabbing the pad back to stuff it in his bag. He feels oddly embarrassed. “I draw. You guys know that I draw.” 

“We haven’t ever seen your finished products, though,” Stanley points out in a whisper. "You're really good, Richie."

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, frowning. “Why is it that we haven't seen your drawings before?"

Richie frowns in slight annoyance. “Because none of you have ever once expressed interest in my artwork?” It comes out partially like a question and Richie inwardly curses himself for being such a pushover. “Literally, not a single one of you has ever asked about it. I don’t know, guys, you’ve just never asked.” 

The three remain silent, looking kind of guilty. Richie furrows his brows, trying to figure out what they're thinking.

“Well…” Beverly trails off with a little wince. “Well, it’s good, honey. It's really good."

“Thanks,” Richie allows, zipping up his bag. The atmosphere is a little awkward now but Richie can’t be bothered to care much.

He stares at his hands for the rest of the period, resisting the urge to stim excessively. When the bell rings, he practically jumps out of his seat, ignoring the calls of his name as he bolts out the door and down the hall. He enters his trigonometry classroom and notices that he's the first to arrive. The teacher, whose name Richie can't recall at the moment, glances at him and wordlessly hands him a thick packet. "It's due at the end of the week," She tells him. He nods, not bothering to verbally respond. She knows he'll get it done; he always does. 

Richie takes his usual seat at the back left of the classroom, closest to the window, and begins working through the trig packet. Most of it is fairly easy, either a review of previous material or a combination of current material and their newest material. He's on page three by the time Stanley sits down in front of him and he glances up briefly to acknowledge his friend before continuing his work. 

"Rich," Stan mumbles as the teacher begins handing out packets and explaining the material. "Rich."

"Yes, Stanthony?" Richie replies without looking up. 

"Why did you run off?" Stan's voice is accusatory and Richie feels the urge to hide. "That wasn't cool, asshole. Beverly was trying to compliment your drawing."

"Okay," Richie says with a shrug of his shoulders. "I had places to be. I thanked her."

Stan huffs and turns around fully in his seat. "Why are you being a prick right now?" Stan asks harshly. "You've been so checked out lately and it's really starting to get on my nerves."

Richie feels a burst of frustration and he sighs loudly, finally meeting Stan's glare. "Well, damn, Stanley, I'm sorry that I've been fucking stressed. I'm so sorry that my behavior has been such an inconvenience to you and the rest of the clan. Don't worry, I'll be sure to put on a wonderful act when I drive you home later, asshole." With those words, Richie stands from his seat and grabs his packet, his pencil, and his bag. He makes his way to the front of the room and brushes past the teacher as he exits. 

"Tozier," The teacher calls after him. "Lunch detention."

"Whatever," He calls back, flipping her the bird as he rushes out the back door and to his car. Once he's there, he starts to stim wildly and whimper as his thoughts race. God, now he's really fucked up. Stanley won't forgive him for that and now he has detention. God, he's a fucking moron. 

His phone starts lighting up with messages and he takes a few deep breaths before checking them. 

lovsers | 9:13 am 

stantheman Fucking guess who has lunch detention. 

soft boi rich :(

spageds jesus christ 

spageds what did you do @bitchie

molly ringwald oh shit 

micycle what happened?

stantheman He got up and left the room in the middle of our Trig lesson. 

bitchie right. that's all that happened 

bitchie it doesn't even fucking matter 

stantheman Don't do this right now. 

stantheman That was ignorant and you know it. 

molly ringwald woah rude 

micycle oh my god 

micycle Rich honey what happened?

Richie softens at the nickname and takes a few more calming breaths. 

bitchie sensory shit i guess 

bitchie that room was fucking suffocating and i needed to leave. 

bitchie i just needed to fucking leave

bitchie my fuckin bad for disappointing you, Stanley. 

stantheman Oh. Shit. I didn't realize. 

soft boi awh rich :( i'm sorry!!! is there anything we can do to help?

molly ringwald we can skip third and have a smoke break 

spageds do not skip again 

micycle if it'll help, you should 

bitchie idk. 

stantheman You have to give us something, Richard. We can't help you otherwise. 

bitchie i want to curl up in a fuckin ball and disappear dude  

bitchie just don't worry about it 

sweet boy to bevby | 9:24

sweet boy smoking in my car if you wanna join. green not nicotine 

bevby oh sweetheart :(((( 

bevby bad day?

bevby on my way

Beverly opens the passenger side door a few minutes later and slides in next to him. He's hitting his dab pen because an actual bowl would get them caught. "What's the matter, Rich?" The red head asks softly, accepting the dab pen from him as she rests her head on his shoulder. 

"Just a shitty day," Richie shrugs, blowing the smoke out as he talks. "I didn't sleep at all so I'm kind of irritable and Stan was bitching at me. That's why I really left. The sensory shit was just a bonus." 

Bev winces and hands him the pen back. "Damn," she says, looking a little guilty. "Eddie and I told him not to push you. He's so irritating sometimes. He never listens to anyone."

"Yeah," Richie smiles sadly, pecking Beverly's cheek. "He makes me feel like shit most of the time and I think he does it on purpose. But...I love him."

"Me too," She agrees with a soft smile. Her eyes are sad and knowing. "He's our irritating asshole."

They stay like that until the end of third period when a flushed Eddie marches up and bangs on the window. Richie, high as absolute fuck, grins at him and opens the door.  "Eddie Spaghetti," Richie sings with a laugh, gesturing for Eddie to sit on his lap. "You look mad, my love. Did something happen?" 

"I'm not mad," Eddie snaps, contradicting himself. He sighs in defeat and climbs into Richie's lap, allowing Bev to play with his fair. "Stanley's just being a douche today. We were arguing about him not noticing that you were overwhelmed and he walked the fuck off. Are you coming to fourth with me?" 

"If you want me to," Richie says with wide, bloodshot eyes. He looks like an eager puppy. "Anything for my Eds."

"Whipped," Bev cackles next to him, laying her head back on his shoulder. "So fucking whipped, dude, oh my god."

"Fuck both of you," Eddie huffs, climbing off of Richie to stand up. "Yes I want you to come, you asshole. I hate everyone else in that class."

Richie laughs and turns to tell Bev goodbye. She leans up and quickly kisses him on the mouth in farewell. He kisses back for a moment before pulling away. They do that sometimes when Beverly needs reassurance that she's worthy of love and affection. "Goodbye, dearest," He says in a dramatic southern voice. "I shall see you again, surely."

Eddie rolls his eyes and hauls Richie up and out of the car. "You're so stupid," The smaller boy tells him as they make their way back into the school. "I still can't believe you and Bev just kiss like that. I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

Richie shrugs. "It's her idea," he tells Eddie, like he has a million times before. "She likes the affection and it makes her feel like she’s not too dirty to be kissed. Plus, we're friends and she knows kissing me isn't going to create unnecessary feelings and drama."

Eddie gaze softens and he nods carefully. “As long as you’re not dating her,” He tells Richie with a serious expression. Eddie looks oddly bothered by the idea of Richie and Beverly dating.

Richie lets out an incredulous laugh. “Me?” He sounds genuinely shocked. “You think that Beverly goddamn Marsh would go for an ugly loser like me? Hell no, Eds. She's way too good for that.” 

Eddie frowns, stopping Richie with his arm across the taller boy's chest.. “You’re not fucking ugly, douchebag,” he mumbles, sounding frustrated. “So, do you like her then?” 

Richie frowns back. “No, Eds, Beverly is my friend and my smoking buddy. We kiss because she wants to and I won’t complicate things. I don’t think we’ll ever be more than that. We're friends."

Eddie nods in understanding. “Cool,” he smiles gently. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The days are passing by quickly for Richie these days. He's been sleeping so little that he can't really tell where one day ends and another begins. It doesn't matter. No one notices and that doesn't matter either. Richie doesn't want them to notice. He doesn't want to be perceived. He doesn't really want to be anything these days. He's been skipping lunch every single day to stay in the art room and work in comfortable silence with Mr. Carter. Mr. Carter doesn't judge him or pressure him or make him feel like he has nothing left to offer. 

After an entire week of skipping lunch with the Losers, Richie is finally confronted by a stammering Bill. Bill, like usual, had ended up being the last Loser to be dropped off on Thursday evening. Richie parks in Bill's driveway and turns to offer his friend a smile. Bill is already looking at Richie, though, and his eyes are surprisingly soft. Richie swallows roughly and forces himself to maintain eye contact. 

"Bill?" Richie asks, after a few minutes of silence. 

"Rich," Bill replies, brows furrowing. "W-Would yo-ou li-like to co-come in?" 

Richie lets out a startled little laugh. "Fuck, Billy, you had me scared! Sure, I'll come in if you want me to."

Bill smiles, letting it travel all the way to his eyes. "G-Good, let's go. M-Mom makes p-p-pasta o-on Thur-Thursdays."

Richie shuts his car off and follows Bill into the house. They're both immediately tackled by Georgie, who is rambling about his day and how good it is to Richie, and how their mom made "Riggietony" this evening. Mrs. Denbrough is nice enough, asking Richie about school and his parents. When dinner is all said and done, Richie and Bill head up to Bill's room while Georgie takes a bath. 

The two boys settle down on the bed, bodies close but not touching, and Bill lets out a sigh. "I've m-missed y-you, Rich."

Richie turns over to face Bill, both of them on their sides now and their faces inches apart. "You see me almost every day," Richie teases, reaching out to ruffle Bill's hair. "How could you possibly miss me?"

"You d-don't r-really t-talk that mu-much these days," Bill points out, brushing Richie's curls behind the taller boy's ear. The action makes Richie blush but neither boy comments on it. "I even mi-iss the m-mom jokes."

That makes Richie laugh and Bill grins at the sight. "Now, that's a fucking lie," Richie comments, still laughing a bit. When he settles down, he notices that Bill hand is still in his hair. "Thanks for inviting me over."

"Thanks for c-coming," Bill replies, shoving Richie's shoulder lightly. "B-by the way, a-are you still good t-to c-come to the game tom-m-morrow?" 

"Game?" Richie asks, his tone conveying his confusion. "What game?" 

"The football game," Bill manages to say without a single stutter. 

"Shit," Richie groans. "I fucking forgot about that."

"Mi-Mike is coming," Bill tells Richie gently. "Didn't he t-tell you? Y-you guys talk, li-like, all the t-time."

"He did," Richie confirms with a huff. "I just fucking forgot. He's going to be waiting at my house when we finish school tomorrow."

"So, you're com-ming?" Bill sounds uncharacteristically hopeful. 

"Sure," Richie shrugs, poking Bill's nose. "Someone has to entertain you fuckers."

Richie stays until almost eleven o'clock, Bill's mother and Georgie having long since gone to bed. Richie and Bill have been talking about nonsensical things for hours when suddenly, Bill grows serious. "Wh-Why don't you e-eat lunch with us any-anymore?" 

Richie ducks his head. "I don't know what you mean," Richie lies between his teeth. "I see you guys every day, Billy."

"I miss you," Bill blurts out suddenly, no stutter in sight. Richie's eyes widen all over again. "I m-miss you eve-even when you're right h-here. You've been... some-someth-th-thing is going o-on. I can see it."

"I'm fine," Richie mutters, glancing away from Bill's bright, caring eyes. "I'm sorry... I'm just, I've just been tired."

"We sh-sh-should go for a drive," Bill says suddenly, standing up and pulling Richie with him. "Let's ju-just... hang ou-out."

Richie smiles softly. He hasn't hung out one on one with Bill in what seems like years. "Sure," Richie says, shrugging as he grabs his keys. They race down the stairs, making entirely too much noise as they laugh and bump into one another and say "shh" several times. 

They slip on their shoes, ears red and cheeks flaming, as they glance shyly at one another. Bill holds the door open for Richie, who blushes brightly and gasps out, "So chivalrous, sweet William," and Bill rolls his eyes but keeps smiling as they get into the car.  

"Pl-play some-something," Bill insists and Richie digs his phone out of his pocket. 

"Shit, the group chat is blowing up," Richie says, frowning at his phone. Bill checks his own phone and his eyes widen as they both start reading through the messages. 

lovsers | 10:57 pm 

micycle ok seriously where is my bestie 

soft boi i havent heard from either of them 

molly ringwald they fuckin lmao 

spageds shut your fucking mouth beverly 

stantheman They're not fucking. 

billiam um what the fuck 

stantheman There's one of them. 

molly ringwald hey bill

soft boi bill!

spageds where have you been 

micycle richie!!!!!!!

micycle where is my RICHIE 

bitchie MIKEY!!!!

micycle FUCK YES MY LOVER HAS RETURNED 

micycle i was so worried 

stantheman Where the fuck have you been?

molly ringwald i missed u my love 

billiam he's been with me lol 

spageds WHAT

stantheman What?

soft boi that makes sense 

molly ringwald I TOLD YALL 

bitchie what have you guys been doing 

stantheman Talking about you. 

billiam side note yall richie's hair is so soft

molly ringwald ive BEEN saying this 

micycle richie's face is so pretty 

bitchie michael???

spageds sike lmao 

molly ringwald omg is it loving richie hours???

molly ringwald ive been waiting for this one 

micycle second

micycle i thought i was asexual until i met richie 

stantheman Richie is a repulsive being. 

soft boi i love richie's hair 

billiam fuck u stan he's so sexy 

bitchie BILL?

molly ringwald hahahha SUCKAZ I GET TO KISS HIM 

spageds fuck you beverly 

stantheman Fuck you, Beverly. 

micycle richie can i kiss you when i see you tomorrow?

bitchie ummm sure???

bitchie if you want???/

billiam fuck both of you i will kiss him right now 

molly ringwald RECORD IT PLZ PLZ PLZ

soft boi BEVERLY????????????????????????

spageds dont you fucking DARE BILL 

spageds i will burn your house to the ground u fuck

stantheman William, do not. 

bitchie ...

billiam FUCK YES 

soft boi oop

stantheman Bill...

spageds RICHIE????

molly ringwald GAYNG

micycle fuck you im coming over 

billiam so um richie kiss well. lips soft

bitchie bill plz omg im so embarrassed

billiam anyway im gonna kiss him again :D

molly ringwald narrate plz god 

soft boi beverly,,, wtf 

spageds fuck all of you im coming over too 

stantheman Me first. 

bitchie what the fuck is happening

micycle eveyone wants to kiss you but only i actually know where you are LOL

bitchie i-

billiam um chile anyways im gonna kiss him again 

spageds WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU BOTH 

stantheman They're not at Richie's. 

molly ringwald theyre not at bill's :( 

soft boi is everyone but me going on a kiss hunt?

bitchie i am not on a kiss hunt 

billiam i am put ur phone away rich 

Richie and Bill are in the middle of giggling between kisses in Richie's car when Mike suddenly bikes over. He throws his bike in the trunk and shoves Bill over to get in the passenger seat. "Drive," Mike pants out. "They're animals!" Richie laughs, feeling free and loved and fucking... happy, he thinks, for the first time in a really long time. Richie throws the car in reverse from where it's parked down the block from Bill's house and just drives. 

"I can't believe you kissed him before me," Mike says, pouting and quite literally crossing his arms as Bill sticks his tongue out, leaning into Richie's side a bit. "That is so not fair."

"You guys have to stop messing with me like this," Richie comments, cheeks still painted a bright pink against his freckles. "It's bad for my heart."

"I'm so serious," Mike says, grinning ear-to-ear as he leans into Richie's peripheral vision. "When we park, it's my turn."

"No," Bill says, crossing his arms. "I called dibs."

"Shit!" Richie says, breathless as he slams on the break in front of Beverly's bike. God, he could've hit her! She grins, seemingly alone, and throws her bike to the sidewalk, hopping in the backseat of the car. "Your bike?"

"Fuck it," Bev says, panting. "You gotta drive, Rich! Stanely's hot on my ass." 

The group of four laughs as Richie keeps driving circles around the town until finally pulling into his own driveway, where a clearly pissed Eddie, a grumpy Stan, and a clearly confused Ben are waiting. Richie parks, moving to grab his keys from the ignition, and Mike is suddenly leaning over Bill's lap to cup Richie's face and pull him into a sweet kiss. It goes on for several minutes, Bev cheering them on and Bill squeezing Richie's thigh, until a loud bang has Richie pulling away, gasping for breath. 

Stanely fucking Uris just hit Richie's window with his hand. He looks so mad it makes panicked laughter bubble in Richie's chest as the door flings open and Stan yanks him to his feet, planting one on him with a smoothness completely uncharacteristic for the awkward bird lover. Richie's eyes are wide open the entire time, enjoying the attention from his oldest friend but also feeling sick at the thought they his friends are going so far to mess with him. 

Richie pulls away when the self-deprecating voices in his head make it impossible to enjoy the kiss and he takes a step back, clearing his throat as he calls to Bill, "G... Grab, uh, grab my keys, will you?" When Bill nods, smiling that soft smile again, Richie breathes a little better. What the fuck is happening? 

"Rich, can I just stay the night?" Beverly asks, climbing out of the car to wrap an arm around Richie's waist. "I don't want to walk back to my bike and then bike all the way home this late. My aunt won't give a fuck, you know that."

"Sure," Richie says, practically on autopilot.

He felt so good before, kissing Bill--his first crush--and then Mike, his sweet farm boy, but now it feels weird. He likes Stanley; he loves Stanely, just as much as he loves Eddie and Beverly and Bill and Mike. Not Ben, 'cause Ben is straight, but he still loves the other boy. Stanley's lips were angry and forgiving, something so different to shy and flirting kissing with Bill, or the comforting and soft ones with Bev, or even the gentle and loving ones from Mike. Stanley's kiss felt like a competition. It felt like Stan wanting to prove himself to be the best, at Richie's expense, and it was nothing like the sweet kiss Richie had always hoped Stan would give him one day. 

Eddie is fuming, glaring at everyone except Ben who in pajamas and clearly both very tired and very confused about the whole situation. "Can we all stay?" Ben asks, clearly hopeful, and Richie forces himself to smile as he tells him--and the rest of the group--that they can stay. Of course they can stay. Richie's parents are gone, anyway; they always are. 

"Did they kiss you?" Eddie asks, still sounding angry an hour later as Mike and Bill play a video game on Richie's tv and Ben and Beverly play a card game. Stanley is in the kitchen making tea. "I mean, like, really?"

"Yeah," Richie nods shyly, blushing at the memory of his kisses with Bill and Mike. "Bill and Mike did."

"And you let them?" Eddie hisses, drawing the attention of the others in the room. "Why?" 

Richie doesn't really have an answer for that so he shrugs and shuffles away from Eddie and toward Mike, who is sitting next to him on the couch with Bill on his other side. Mike allows Richie to lean into his side and Beverly glances over from where she's sitting on the floor. 

"It's fine, Eddie," Beverly tells him, slapping down a card in front of Ben. "Let it go."

"Let it go?" Eddie practically shouts and Richie winces. Mike immediately pauses the game and puts an arm around Richie's waist. "Let it go? Fuck you, Beverly, you don't know anything. He can't just go around letting everyone kiss him randomly."

"It isn't any of your business," Beverly warns him, setting her pile of cards down and Ben looks around nervously. "If you want to be included, just say that. If you want to kiss him too, then just ask him. You don't have to make everyone else feel bad because you're jealous."

"Beverly, enough," Stan huffs, coming into the room with a steaming cup of tea. 

"What... is happening?" Richie asks, utterly confused, as he glances around at everyone. Everyone who is already looking at him. "I... I feel like I'm missing something." 

"You've got that right," Stanley mutters into his cup, making Bev roll her eyes and Bill scoff a little.