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Fuzzy Blankets

On the first Friday after school had ended for winter break, the group decided to gather at Bill's house for a movie night.

Richie and Stan had spent most of the day there, but the first part of the day wasn't filled with the joking love they usually shared. Instead, Richie had called Bill, shyly asking if he could come over. Bill of course said yes, because it was very unlike Richie to ask for permission to do anything.

Stan had already been there when Richie arrived, since Stan had called to inform Bill that he'd be there too. Richie had asked him to be there too, and despite their common annoyance with Richie, Bill and Stan were concerned.

He never showed fear.

Richie showed up and walked up to Bill's room, not saying anything and a stoic expression on his face.

They waited for an hour, all three of them staying in complete silence.

"I have something to tell you guys," Richie eventually mumbled, his face burning red and tears in his eyes.

"Whatever it is, w-we're here f-f-for you, Richie," Bill said with a soft smile that Richie didn't return.

Richie took in a shaky breath, tears falling even though he hadn't said anything. He began to cry, both of his friends quickly creating a group hug to try to give some support.

"I'm sorry!" Richie cried out, burying his face in Stan's shirt. "I'm so so sorry!"

"What happened, Richie?" Stan asked, fear creeping through his veins when Richie didn't stop sobbing. He'd never been so afraid for his best friend before.

"You're going to hate me," Richie whispered, sniffing and pulling away from his friends.

"Never, R-Richie. What h-h-happened?" Bill asked, leaning over to grab a box of tissues from the dresser for Richie.

Richie accepted them gratefully and wiped his eyes, biting his lip. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"I'm gay," he whispered, his eyes still closed and tears leaking out from behind his scrunched eyelids.

Stan and Bill made eye contact, understanding why Richie was so afraid. It was common for their small town to be filled with homophobic comments and actions, so it explained Richie's reaction. He was horrified that he'd be hurt or that his friends would hate him.

"I'm sorry," Richie whispered after he hadn't received a response. "I'll go home. I don't want to ruin your movie night."

He moved to stand, but Bill grabbed his arm and forced him to sit down.

"You're n-not going anywhere. You're a l-loser, and losers can't just sk-skip movie nights. We don't give a f-f-fuck that you're gay, Richie. It's who you are an-and we all love you for you," Bill said, making eye contact with Richie to enforce his statement.

"You don't hate me?" Richie asked hesitantly, as if he couldn't believe he was being accepted by his friends.

"You really thought we would? Come on, Rich. We hate you for a lot of things, but your sexuality is never going to be one of them," Stan said with a grin, pulling a small laugh from Richie.

"He's r-right."

Stan smirked and nudged Richie. "Is there anyone you like then?" he asked with a wink, making Richie blush crimson.

"Uh, yeah, there is," he said quietly, rubbing his arm nervously.

"W-who is it?!" Bill asked excitedly, even though he already had an idea of who it probably was. He and Richie had been friends for a long time and Bill was observant.