Yearning - Reddie

Five and a Half

Richie opened the old, white door of the pharmacy for Eddie to get in, and leaped inside right after. By the time the door was closed shut, Henry Bowers and his gang barged into the street, looking around furious and confused as there was no sight of the boys they had tormented only minutes ago.

Richie, not caring anymore if Henry and his friends were still on their tails or not, crouched on the rug covered floor next to Eddie, who was fumbling with the inhaler he took out of his pouch. Richie noticed he was bleeding from his left eyebrow, and his eyes travelled down to an angry, red gash on his right arm.

Taking a hasty drag from his inhaler, Eddie gasped out, letting out a fragile breath. He dropped his face into his palms, arms propped on his legs, his mouth slightly open as he tried breathing evenly again, his chest rising and falling with effort.

His heart dropping at the sight, Richie did the only helpful thing he could think of - he got up and started looking for first aid stuff. He grabbed a pack of cotton, rubbing alcohol, gauze and some bandages from the heavily packed shelves and headed to pay, mindlessly thinking how convenient it is that they entered a pharmacy of all places. He had a throwback to the day they had saved Ben Hanscom after the Bowers gang's vicious attack on him, although it was at a different pharmacy in another part of the small town.

Richie leaned wearily onto the counter and gave whatever amount of money he owed the cashier for his stuff. It crossed his mind that the guy probably hadn't even noticed him and Eddie entering the pharmacy in the first place.

It was only then that he felt his aching cheekbone and left side of his stomach on full force. Richie was glad the guy didn't ask any questions about his face, where an ugly bruise was probably starting to form. He only now noticed his palms were bleeding - probably from blocking his fall, Richie thought - but his pain didn't matter anymore as he quickly took his things back to where Eddie was sitting.

Eddie was leaned against the shelf he had left him at, eyes closed and chest slowly rising and falling, looking completely exhausted. He turned his head slightly when Richie approached him, opening his eyes and looking at him. "Hey, Rich. You okay?" He asked weakly, examining him for any injuries. He quickly spotted the blood on his palms. "Oh fuck, Richie," he pointed at him, "your hands."

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," Richie instinctively replied. He carelessly wiped it off with some tissue paper he had in his school bag, trying his best not to flinch. The plastic bag filled with cotton, alcohol and bandages hanging from his arm as he did so.

Richie got down on his knees, dropping his school bag and the medical stuff to the floor. He took everything out, ripped a piece of cotton and dipped it with rubbing alcohol.

To Eddie's dismay, Richie gently pressed it to the bleeding cut above his eyebrow as he grounded his face with his other hand, muttering an apology when Eddie hissed in pain. "Be careful, dickface," Eddie said, no venom in his voice.

Eddie's skin was soft beneath his fingers and their faces were so close. Richie hoped he wasn't visibly blushing, but he was intent on helping Eddie so he pushed his thoughts aside.

"Almost done," Richie announced as he softly covered Eddie's cut with a bandage, having an urge to kiss his pain away. He didn't, of course, and instead he threw the used cotton into the bag and tore another piece from the pack, dipping it with alcohol.

He was about to clean the gash on Eddie's arm when the boy next to him snatched it from his hand. "I can handle it, Rich. Take care of your hands, alright?" He pleaded, staring at Richie's palms with a pained expression.