✓ | BETTER WITH YOU → richie tozier ³

fifteen

RICHIE SLOWLY opened his eyes, blearily looking at the ceiling and letting out a huge yawn.

He lay quietly for a second, not knowing quite why his head felt foggy and full of lead, or why his face had that puffy, swollen sense to it, or why his eyes hurt when he blinked.

And then, he remembered.

The party. The beer. Mike. Ash.

And then, with no warning, he doubled over and vomited, clutching his stomach as his breathing became shaky and ragged.

He did it again, the aftermath of beer staining his breath, and looked up to see Eddie walking into the room, eyeing the pool of sick and Richie.

He pointed to the bathroom, and Richie shakily heaved himself off the couch towards it, making it just in time.

A few minutes later, he stumbled back into the room to find Eddie had cleaned it all up and was sitting on the couch, his head propped up on his arm, and Richie hesitated before going to sit beside him.

It was silent for a couple of seconds before Eddie said flatly, "If you expected me to come in here and give you fucking sympathy, you're wrong."

Richie looked at him, but Eddie wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Then why are you here, huh Spaghetti?"

"Don't fucking call me that!" Eddie snapped, and then continued, "I'm here because it's always been my job to look out for you, and you can't handle stuff on your own."

"How do you know I haven't changed?" Richie said indignantly, and was taken aback when Eddie snorted.

"You haven't changed, Richie. I was so fucking stupid for thinking stuff was going to go back to normal." He shook his head. "If anything, you're worse."

Richie glared at him. "Give me one reason why I'm-"

But Eddie whipped around to face him, his eyes narrowed, and said icily, "You called me, your "best friend", a faggot. You called Bill and Stan faggots too, and you haven't spoken to us in months. You get so jealous and overprotective of Ash that she draws away from you. You've made so many people angry and humiliated that they do whatever it takes to get back at you, even if that means the worse ways possible. You make up lies to Ash, and never tell her the real reason we don't hang out with you all because you don't want to make yourself look like shit. You start a full-on brawl at a party and scream at us to leave you alone and push everyone away again just for yourself."

Richie stared at him, and then answered, "If you hate me so much, why don't you just fucking leave?"

Eddie met his eyes, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth before saying, "Because I haven't been able to leave you for the past four years."

And before he can lose his nerve, Eddie leans in and kisses him.

Richie's breath tastes like beer, and his lips are a bit swollen and he can taste the faint rust of blood, but before he can dwell on it, Eddie pulls away.

Richie looks completely and utterly shocked, heat rushing to his face as Eddie says calmly, "I just thought you should know. How I really feel."

And in a complete moment of terror, Richie blurts out, "Eds, I-I'm not gay."

Eddie cringes. He had braced himself for this, but the words still hurt, sharp and short.

"I know you're not. But that was something I had to do." He whispers, and looks away, twisting his fingers together.

"H-how long?" Richie stutters, and Eddie smiles faintly.

"Since the summer you and Ash got together."

The silence after this pronunciation is deafening, and Richie says slowly, "I'm sorry, Eds."

"Me too."

And then, Eddie's shoulders are shaking and he's crying- he's crying so hard it feels like he's going to shatter, his face buried in his hands.

"No, Eds- Eds, please, I'm sorry!" Richie tries desperately, and wraps his arms around his best friend, pulling him close. "I'm so goddamn sorry, Eddie."

Eddie is shaking his head, choking, "No, Richie, don't. It's not your fault, okay? I'm sorry."

"Shut up." Richie's voice is trembling, and he kisses the top of Eddie's head, pulling his face into his shoulder. "Just shut up and let me hold you, okay? You've always been the one holding me, and now it's my turn."

Eddie lets out a sob, but slowly twists his arms around Richie, breathing in his scent of cigarette smoke and burying his face into Richie's neck.

Richie softly rests his head on Eddie's, murmuring, "Shh. . .it's okay, Eds, I've got you. I've got you."

They stay that way for a long time, wrapped around each other, and finally Eddie is calmer, his breathing a bit hiccup-y, but he pulls away from Richie, who meets his gaze behind his Coke-bottle glasses.

"You okay?"

Eddie manages a nod, and Richie softly takes his hand, squeezing it in his own, before saying, "Can you tell me exactly what happened last night? I remember the big stuff I think, but not everything else."

And so, little by little, Eddie gives him the full story, watching Richie carefully as he flinches at parts, or his hands go to his wrists without him even noticing, rubbing at the scars.

When Eddie is finished, Richie puts his head in his hands. "This is all my fault. If I had just taken better care of her- if I had apologized to you and Stan and Bill-"

"Don't." Eddie replies. "Don't beat yourself up, Rich. It's only going to make it worse."

Richie slowly raises his head from his hands, and whispers, "So what am I supposed to do? How. . .how am I supposed to get her back?"

Eddie swallows, running his fingers softly over Richie's knuckles. "I don't know."

"Wow." Richie laughs dully, the sound hollow. "I really am a fuckup."

Eddie winces. "You're not-"

"Don't." Richie interrupts sharply. "I know I am, Eds. All the shit I've been putting people through, all the stuff I did. . .I'm a fuckup."

The pronunciation rings in the air for a couple of long beats, and then Richie is standing, Eddie looking at him, bewildered.

"Wh-what are you doing?" He asks, and Richie looks down at him.

"I'm going to apologize to Stan and Bill. So get your coat, and let's go. I don't want to put this off any longer than it already has been."

And rubbing the scars absently on his wrists, ignoring the little voice in his head saying, "Do it." each time he touches one, Richie leaves the room, ready to try to make things right.

Or at least, that's what he thinks he's ready for anyway.