˚ʚ my heart beats for you in threes - stenbrough ɞ˚

chapter nine

NO TRIGGER WARNINGS THIS CHAPTER! enjoy <333

   =========

   after my brief breakfast at the denbrough's, and another phone call from richie to discuss some meet up plans, i had told bill i was headed home. was i? of course not! instead of going home, i took my still-broken bicycle and walked it to the park. i sat myself down beneath an oak tree that is clearly in distress. somehow though, it's alive still. no matter how shitty the derry soil is, it's still growing.

richie had said he would meet me here right around.. well, now. but he was always late, so i say there for what felt like another hour, until some dork on a bike showed up.

"stan the man!" he greets, somehow still being the same richie tozier i know and love, even after his first love just "rejected" him.

"hey rich!" i say, gesturing towards the barely-holding-up tree that i was just sat below.

   a huge feeling of embarrassment (?) hits me. mostly just because i realise that this is some sort of not-very-secret gay meet-up. which, is cool, but also hard to come to terms with. i mean, i feel a bit guilty for even thinking the word "gay". i mean, would i even use that word to describe myself? "gay." the word feels.. weird? i don't know. i mean, in the end, does is even matter what words i use to say how i feel?

   rich and i talk for what feels like minutes, but really is hours. he explains exactly what happened, and it makes me think that his situation wasn't even a rejection. eddie did want to date him, be with him, even. but he didn't wanna go out and be seen with him like that. which, fair enough. he's already not really allowed to be around richie, due to his mother not approving of "that damn tozier kid's language!"

   richie and i have always been bonded through our issues. sure, us making self-deprecating jokes to eachother is probably not the best coping mechanism, but it's better than telling those jokes to nobody.

   just when i think that our meeting is about to conclude, i decide that now is the best time to talk about my feelings.

"hey rich?"

"yeah?"

"remember when i said that i, um, thought i liked boys?"

"oh. yeah, i do, why?"

"well, i think i know for sure that i like boys, now."

"hell yeah! welcome to the dark side, staniel! do you wanna talk about it?"

"yeah, actually, that'd be great."

   i sort of stare at the boy in awe. the polluted derry sky lightly reflecting onto his glasses as he stares back at me.

"bill." i say, not having to say any more for richie to understand.

"yeah?" he asks, making sure that i'm being serious.

"yeah."

   i tell him all about breakfast, the day before, the "just-friends-cuddling" and just bill in general. i tell him about how he makes me feel, i tell him how when i hold his hand, i no longer feel like i'm going to fall violently. as corny as it sounds, the only falling that i'm thinking about when i'm with him, is falling in love. (richie giggled when i said this out loud, and so did i. how embarrassing?)

   we both clearly could talk about our loves for hours, and we did. even after it got dark, we still sat under that tree and giggled. richie would tell me all of his ways of getting eddie's attention. including, but not limited to, purposely falling off of his bicycle, getting eddie to patch up his scrapes, calling eddie anytime he had a medical question, and throwing pebbles at his window.

   for a minute, it all felt nice. this was normal. this is what secretly-gay normal teenage boys talk about. not about clowns and moving paintings, but about their first loves. about the little things.