Richie sat on Bill's bedroom floor. Bill called Richie in a frantic state and demanded Richie to come to his house immediatly.
"So... Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Richie asked. "Uhm... Yeah, I-I-I will." Bill started. "I-I think I l-like St-Stan." Bill admitted. "Oh? Well, you should tell him. I suspect that Stan feels the same about you. You guys only met three weeks ago and you're all over each other." Richie pointed out. "I-I will. I need-needed to get t-that off my chest." Bill said.
"Now, I will like to kick your ass at Mario Kart." Richie stood up off the floor and sat on Bill's bed next to the stuttering boy.
~
As Richie said, he kicked Bill's ass. Richie stood up and cheered, "That's how it's done Billy boy!" Richie jumped around Bills room. Bill chuckled at the hyper boy and congradulated him. Bill was never a sore loser, but Richie was a obnoxious winner. Bill doesn't mind though.
Richie paused when he heard a ring. He realised it was cominng from his phone. "Hello?" Richie cheerfully said into the phone. "Rich?" It was Eddie, but something felt wrong. "Hey Eddie baby! What's up?" Richie smiled. "Are you home?" Eddie quietly asked. "No? I'll be heading back soon. Why?" Richie was getting worried by the second. "I'm on your porch, please come home." Eddie begged. "Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can. Stay put Eds." Richie hung up and said a quick goodbye to Bill and ran out the house.
During the run to the house Richie was pratically shitting himself. One, Eddie might be hurt, who knows. Two, Eddie has never been inside Richie's house. Richie was embaressed by his home. His parents were only home late at night, his house was a wreck, you would be embaressed too if you lived in Richie's home.
Richie saw Eddie sitting on his shitty porch. "Eds?" Richie called out. Eddie shot up and ran to Richie. Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie's neck. "Is everything alright?" Richie hugged back. Eddie didn't respond.
Richie sighed and walked Eddie into his house. Richie walked to his bedroom and set Eddie down on his bed. Eddie refused to make eye contact. "Eds? Can you look at me?" Richie asked. Eddie nodded but didn't look up. "Come on Eds." Richie whispered.
Eddie finally looked up. Black eye.
Richie's eyes went wide. "Holy shit. Eds? What happened? Jesus fuck. Oh no. Who did this? How do people take care of black eyes? Ice? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Who did it? Was it Bowers? I swear to God I'll kill that son of a bitch. I won't hesita-" "Richie." Eddie cut Richie off. "I just need some ice. Okay? It's okay." Eddie reassured even though it obviously wasn't okay.
Richie nodded and ran to the kitchen. He filled a plastic bag with ice cubes and wrapped it with a towel.
Richie handed Eddie the ice pack and sighed. "Who did this?" Richie asked. "It's dumb. I was going to suprise you with a visit, I fell, got a black eye, freaked out, and here we are." Richie wasn't sure if he should trust that story. But, he just nodded and sat on the bed next to Eddie. "Can we just lay down?" Eddie asked. "Of course Eds." Richie layed with the short boy and played with his brown hair.
Richie saw Eddie's blinks get longer and longer. "Rest baby." Richie kissed Eddie's temple and smiled as Eddie fell into a deep sleep.
AN
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-GROOVYLADY
