A/N: This is a flashback chapter btw!
Richie's Pov // July 1989
When Connor Bowers made his way into the arcade on that memorable July day, Richie Tozier was too caught up in his game to notice the boy's presence at first. He always found it so easy to get caught up in the games at the arcade. Between the blinking lights and fountain drinks, Richie could spend the entire afternoon in the arcade without getting bored.
"Hey," the voice came from behind Richie's shoulder. "Do you mind if I join you?" The voice was distinctly soft and a little high pitched, and was a sound that Richie wasn't going to ever forget.
Pausing his game, Richie turned around to greet the newcomer. "Do you know how to play Street Fighter?"
"No," the new boy said. "I was hoping you could teach me."
"Yeah, sure!" Richie replied, glad to have a bit of company. The truth was, he regretted fighting Bill in the street last week. He had just been scared and worried about Eddie's safety. Deep down he knew Bill would come around soon, so he smiled at the grinning boy in front of him and got to work.
~ ~ ~
"Okay, so this is how you throw a punch," Richie demonstrated as the boy, who had previously introduced himself as Connor, watched him closely. "And this," he said, glancing at Connor's concentrated face, "is how you throw a light kick. Now you try."
Stepping to the side to give Connor enough space, Richie watched as the boy pushed the buttons and moved the lever in the correct order, successfully beating the shit out of the opponent on the screen.
"You're a good teacher, Richie," Connor grinned as the screen lit up reading Player One Wins!
"Thanks," Richie muttered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. He took a sip out of the Coke that Connor had bought him, hoping the cold liquid would somehow melt away the red splotches on his cheeks. Why was he blushing?
"Why don't we play against each other?" Connor asked, holding up a silver token. "See if the student's better than the teacher?"
"You're on!" Richie said, setting his Coke aside and getting into position.
As bright flashes of light danced across the screen, Richie found himself admiring Connor, playing the game simply from memory. He took in the way Connor's nearly white blonde curls glowed under the fluorescent lights. He took in the way the boy licked his lips in concentration. Most of all, he admired Connor's deep blue eyes. For a moment he felt a sense of disappointment, as he had always admired a familiar pair of chocolate brown eyes, but he shook the feeling away.
"You're fucking good," Connor sighed in defeat. He held his hand out to Richie, waiting for a high five. Richie never forgot the way that their fingers stayed glued together a second too long to be considered an accident.
"Do you wanna go again?" Richie asked, desperate for the afternoon to continue. "I mean, only if you want to."
"Yeah-" Connor started, then quickly turned towards the doors that had opened behind them. Slowly, Connor took a step back, never taking his eyes off the person behind him. "Dude, why are you being weird?" Connor suddenly blurted out, looking back at Richie. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend."
"Woah," Richie said, caught off guard by Connor's sudden aggression. "I didn't mean-" It was at that moment that he realized it was Henry Bowers and his gang of assholes standing behind Connor. Richie immediately took a step back, holding his breath in fear.
"The fuck's going on here?" Henry sneered, glaring at Richie over Connor's shoulder.
"You assholes didn't tell me your town was full of little fairies," Connor said, a new sense of disgust rising in his voice.
"Richie fucking Tozier," Henry bellowed, taking a step towards Richie. "You tryna bone my little cousin?" Cousin. The word seemed to slap Richie across the face. Of course Connor was with Henry, he must've just been putting on a show to get a reaction out of Richie. He shook his head frantically, taking another step back.
"Get the fuck out of here, Faggot!" Henry screamed.
It took less than ten seconds for Richie to run out of the arcade, not sparing a glance in Connor's direction as he did so. He quickly made his way to the back of the arcade, collapsing onto one of the old milk crates. He was too overwhelmed with the fear of Henry coming to find him to move further into town. Instead, he dropped his glasses to his feet and held his face in his hands, his cheeks growing wet with tears and his shoulders shaking from the sobs wracking through his body.
Faggot. The word echoed through his ears in a never-ending song. He had been called a faggot nearly his entire life, but for some reason this time felt different. It felt real.
He suddenly found himself wishing Eddie was there, holding him and wiping away his tears, like that movie night at Bill's. The thing was, Eddie never cared about the rumors. He never believed them. He just saw Richie for who he was: a trashmouth who made shitty mom jokes and used extra shitty voices. And he loved Eddie for that, and for so much more.
He had always loved Eddie, it had never been a question up for debate. It had just happened. He loved the boy who he met on the first day of kindergarten, the one who had cried because his chair was filled with dust and dirt. He loved the boy who used to giggle at his shitty voices, and now laughed loudly in a way that could brighten the darkest room. He loved the boy whose cheeks he pinched and called cute. He especially loved the boy who always fixed his glasses with bright green washi tape whenever he broke them and put bandaids on all of his cuts.
You see, it had never been a matter of Do you like girls or the dreaded question, Do you like boys? It had just been Eddie, his best friend. But now, after the way Connor's fingers had touched him and the way he felt butterflies in his stomach, he knew it was much more than that. He had come face to face with the dreaded question: Do you like boys, Richie? Isn't that your dirty little secret?
He was pulled back to reality when he heard someone make their way into the alley. "Richie?" the newcomer asked. Richie found himself hoping it would be Eddie's sweet and comforting voice, but it wasn't. It was the unforgettable voice he had heard in the arcade.
"Get the fuck away from me," Richie said, wiping his sore eyes and putting his glasses back on. Connor made his way over to Richie, stopping right in front of him.
"Richie, please listen to me-" Connor started.
"No!" Richie shouted, standing up and trying to make his way around Connor.
"Please," Connor, stepping closer and resting his palm on Richie's cheek. The new contact held Richie in place, unable to find the will to move. "I was just scared of Henry. He hates boys like me, who think the way I think and want the things that I want. He would kill me," Connor whispered and Richie saw a tear streak down the pale boy's face. "You might think I'm joking but I'm not. He would slit my fucking throat."
"I know," Richie whispered.
"I'm sorry." Connor's fingers brushed away the tears that lingered on Richie's cheeks.
"It's okay," Richie found himself saying. He knew that everything that went down in the arcade wasn't Connor's fault. Of course, the blonde boy's words had stung, but if Henry was his cousin he likely would have done a similar thing.
"You're so cool, Richie Tozier," Connor whispered, closing the distance between them.
"Connor-" Richie whispered, but he was cut off when Connor's soft lips crashed down on his. The kiss was short and sweet, but still left Richie flabbergasted standing in front of the boy.
"I'll see you around," Connor grinned, removing his hand from Richie's cheek and taking off, running out of the alleyway.
Richie, in fact, never saw Connor "around".
He hadn't heard from him since that memorable July day.
YOU ARE READING
Fix Me // Reddie
Fanfiction"You've got to fix me, Eds. I can't keep living like this, not with all these broken pieces within me." "Richie, there's no part of you that needs fixing."
