𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 / 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

ᴠᴇɪɴᴛɪᴛʀᴇꜱ

It hurts a little bit to see the unexpectedly wonderful holiday weekend come to an end when the alarm clock starts blaring early Monday morning. It screams from the nightstand, just a little too far out of reach, and Eddie rolls away from the warmth of Richie's arms just to make it shut up. It's cold, and he burrows back under the heavy comforter once he slaps his hand down on the snooze button, snuggling against Richie's chest and shivering lightly.

It's only been a little over a week and he's already used to sleeping next to Richie. This simple, unexplainable joy can't erase everything that's happened over the past couple months, but it soothes the ache in his chest, just enough for him to get through the day. Being like this with Richie is more than he ever believed it could be, more than he ever dared dream it be. It sounds incredibly stupid in his head, but it's almost like he's starting to heal a little bit, even though there is still so much wrong around him. The wounds he can't see, or touch- they sting like they're new so often- but maybe they won't feel this way forever. At least, with Richie as his support, it's something he's starting to believe.

As Eddie forces himself up to get ready for school, he glances back at Richie's sleeping form, his skin glowing in the warm wash of lamp light, lips parted around soft snores that sound slightly congested. He wonders how much hurt Richie hides from him, how much pain he shoulders and carries on, always there when Eddie needs him, the way he was there when Stan needed him, too. The bit he glimpsed over the weekend has stayed with him since, and he thinks of it as he goes through his morning routine, unable to shove away Richie's rough, sad words that cut Eddie deeply.

You can't need me. I'm just- I'm nothing.

On the way to school Eddie replays them over and over, can't stop seeing the dark look in Richie's eyes, how much he must believe those words to be true. Their hands are clasped together in the center, Richie's callused thumb running over his knuckles, Journey playing on the stereo as they go through the foggy streets, and all Eddie wants to do is turn back around and go home. At home he can put on a movie, cuddle up under a blanket with Richie and one of the dogs, and hide from the world of responsibility for a little longer.

Richie parks near the back of the student lot, not in his usual spot, and he shuts the engine off, turning to Eddie and touching his arm. Eddie feels the hesitance there, and it makes him sit up and pay attention. "There's something I didn't tell you," Richie begins, voice low in the small space of the car. "I didn't mean to keep it from you, I just... I don't know how many people saw."

Uneasiness settles over Eddie's shoulders. "Saw what?"

Richie tells him about the kiss, and Eddie lowers his head, his stomach twisting crudely around the tight ball of anxiety that descends from his chest. Fuck- he doesn't remember much of the party, and he's been glad for that over the past few days, but now he wishes he hadn't been so ignorant. He just wanted to forget about everything for a night- his mom, Sam, the uncertain future getting closer each day. It's all so much to deal with. He can't just- he can't deal with this now, too. What the hell was he thinking?

Richie's arm goes around his shoulders, squeezing him gently, and Eddie tries to shove down the sudden fear rushing through him. "Eds," Richie's voice murmurs in his ear. "It's gonna be fine."

Eddie turns to him, scoffing when he sees how nervous Richie looks, the uncertainty thick and tangible in the space around them. "You're kidding, right?"

Sighing, Richie's thumb and forefinger pinch the space between his brows, just above his glasses, and he says, "I'm not kidding, I'm just-" he drops his head back against the rest, eyes looking up at the ceiling, and Eddie feels Richie's fingers start to drum on his bicep. "Look- what are we supposed to do? Sit here, scared? Not go to school?"