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unrequited reddie

slight nsfw but not really, they're seniors in this

richie never got jealous. the only boy he's liked since he was twelve was never in kahoots with someone, there was no need for richie to be jealous.

until eddie got a boyfriend.

a tall, pale boy, with blue eyes and long dark hair. he was a year older than the rest of their friends, a freshman at the local college in derry, and richie fucking hated him.

if he wasn't dating eddie? fine. richie would probably even laugh at the stupid fucking jokes he makes if he wasn't dating the love of richie's life. there was just... something about him that didn't seem right. and it wasn't just richie that felt like that; stan agreed with richie, the kid was bad news.

eddie had been acting weird lately, avoiding richie and the rest of the losers for the past couple of weeks. he wouldn't even say hi to richie in the halls, which was honestly embarrassing and it made richie feel like utter shit.

richie was on his own downward spiral, making terrible decisions and doing bad things as a way to cope without his best friend.

richie puffed out a large cloud of cigarette smoke out of his pursed lips. he was sitting on beverly's fire escape, his hair as disheveled as his clothes. it was around... three? four am? richie didn't know. he checked his phone, and the clock read 5:54AM.

"shit," he breathed, knowing he wasn't supposed to stay the night at beverly's, but he was relieved once he remembered that his parents never gave two shits about where he was anyways. he sighed, climbing back through the window and laying down next to bev's sleeping form.

she moved so her head was resting against richie's collarbone, and her hand rested on richie's chest. they did this a lot; laying together as if they were in love, but that wasn't the deal. it was platonic, especially with the both of them leading fucked up lives, they both needed comfort from each other.

"richie..." beverly hummed as the summer sun slowly rose outside.

"yea, bev?" he answered, her calling pulling him out of the zone he had faded into.

"calm down. i can feel how fast your heart is beating." she said, tapping along to richie's heartbeat on his chest.

"sorry." he mumbled, wanting to cry. "i can't stop thinking about him, bevy." he said.

beverly lifted herself off of richie, looking down at him. "maybe you need someone to distract yourself from him." she suggested, shrugging.

richie thought for a moment. "like, a boyfriend?" he said quietly.

"doesn't have to be a commitment. just... someone that can take the pain away." she said, sitting up.

richie sat up as well, taking a cigarette out of the box on the side dresser. "like a cigarette?" he asked, lighting it.

beverly took it out of his mouth and took a quick drag. "yeah. a human cigarette." she said, richie's glum mood slowly passing onto her.

richie looked down at his lap. maybe that is what he needed.

he knew just the person.

-

"stanley?"

the curly haired boy sighed as he continued to read his textbook. "what, richie." he said coldly, although richie knew there was concern behind his tone.

"do you want to come over after school?" richie asked nervously.

stan looked up. "why?" he asked.

richie was hurt by stanley's response, but quickly covered up with sarcasm, just like he always did. "jeez, stanley, i see how it is."

stan moved closer. "no, i just mean..." he paused, moving closer. "we haven't... hung out in a while." he said, suggesting at something deeper.

"i know, but," richie said, meeting stan's level of quiet. "i need it." he said, making eye contact with stanley.

stan nodded. "okay."

-

stanley snaked his way up richie's shirt, his warm hands making contact with richie's freezing skin. richie gasped as stanley nipped at his bottom lip, pulling soft moans out of him as stanley continued to bite and suck at richie's neck and mouth.

"stanley," richie breathed, the intimate contact with another human body feeling intoxicating to him.

but, as stan worked his way down richie's thin and lanky body, richie found himself feeling numb. wanting more.

wanting eddie.

-

stan worked his fingers through richie's curly locks. "rich." he said quietly.

richie's heart raced against his chest. he took the cigarette out of his mouth and continued to stare at the ceiling. "yea?"

"i don't like it when you smoke."

richie put the cigarette out on his nightstand. "sorry."

stan sighed. "i know that didn't work." he said randomly.

richie sat up, looking at the curly haired boy laying down next to him. "what do you mean?"

stan looked at him with sad eyes. "i didn't distract you from him." he said, shooting an arrow straight through richie's blue heart.

richie hesitated. "i shouldn't be using you like this."

stan looked away. "i shouldn't be either." he said, watching richie play with the hem of his boxers. "is there any love here... here at all?" he asked, looking richie in the eyes.

richie thought, searching his mind for an answer. "i don't think so," he said. "at least... not intimate love."

stan took a deep breath. "i agree." he paused. "i wish there was, to be honest." he confessed.

"so do i." richie said, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on stanley's cheek. "i love you, stan, but... not in the way i should."

-

richie looked down at the pavement two stories below him. he took a drag from his cigarette and sighed, thinking about the one person he never wanted to think about again.

he sat down, swinging his legs over the edge of the flat roof. he flicked his cigarette off and watched it plummet to the ground, falling ever so gracefully until it softly hit the cement.

he thought about what he heard on the news two weeks ago. an interview with every person who ever survived jumping off the golden gate bridge said that as they fell, they realized that there were ways to fix their problems. ways that didn't need to end in their untimely deaths.

he placed both hands behind him on the roof, and hoisted himself off and into the empty air.

as he fell to the ground, as he plummeted just like the butt to his cigarette, he too realized the solution to his problem.

communication.