Brushstrokes (Reddie AU)

Love? Sure.

Jesus. I wake up and roll over on my side. It takes me a moment to even remember how to breathe. It all feels wrong. There's this pain, in my head, but it's also swimming along in my stomach making me feel entirely nauseous. It takes me a while to remember what happened. I drank. And I feel disgusting now. Jesus, how do people do this all the time? It sucks...

"I think he's awake now," someone says, and after a moment I can tell that it's my boyfriend Eddie who's speaking. I open my eyes a tiny bit to look at his adorable face. Yep, he's definitely a cutie.

"It hurts," I manage to say as I sit up and stretch a little. I'm sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag, which might add a little bit to the pain factor.

"You were drunk, of course it hurts. Stan was in the same boat when he woke up. He's either gotten past it, or just accepted it." He smirks a little. I rub my eyes a little. Stan is seated on his bed, typing on his laptop.

"Shh, Eddie...too loud," he mumbles.

I crawl over to where Eddie is seated in his sleeping bag. I hug him tight. "I feel like shit," I whisper and it's followed by a light snicker. He doesn't laugh, though.

"Don't drink," he mutters and pushes me aside. "It's gross. You smell like shit."

I pout and look at him. "Sorry Eds. I was just trying to have a fun night."

He shakes his head. "A fun night? You could've gotten alcohol poisoning! What if you did? We'd have to bring you to the hospital, and then the police would get involved because you're seventeen!" He sighs and looks away. "I didn't mean to yell, Richie, I'm just scared. I'm very scared. I don't like alcohol. I don't like it at all. And last night, you told me you loved me, and it made me the happiest I had ever been, but I can't help but feel that you only said it because of the alcohol. I don't know if you really meant it or not. And I'm conflicted."

I don't know how to respond. I had never even thought about it. Do I love him? I don't know! How am I supposed to know? Jesus, I'm a teenager, and teenagers don't really know anything. But yeah, he's my favourite person. Yeah, he makes me happier than life itself. Oh fuck. I love him. "I love you," I say honestly. At this, Stan quits typing. I think he's surprised to hear it too. What is with these people? Why do they think I'm impossible of loving someone?

"Bullshit!" He laughs softly and hugs me super tight. "I love you, Richie Tozier!!"

Stan claps happily. "You know guys, most of the time when we hang out I don't have to feel like I'm third wheeling the entire situation. But now? Well, now isn't one of those times..."

I turn around. "Do you want me to remind Eddie what happened in grade nine?" I ask with a light smirk. Oh, Eddie would love this story.

"Oh, fuck off!" Stan groans. "That was two years ago, move on already!"

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It's a great story," I say.

"It's a shit story! You never tell it right!" He sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. "I had this girl over one time because I thought she was interested in me. Turns out she liked Richie. He was oblivious, part of his homosexuality, and I just had to watch. It was terrible!"

I snicker. "It's not your fault. I'm irresistible!"

"Only to artsy boys who wear overalls," he shoots back, which sends Eddie into a fit of utterly adorable laughter. I move closer and pet my hand through his hair. And things are so fucking wonderful, it's hard for me to believe it. All this time I was afraid of coming out. Afraid of people knowing. But now that people know, everything is okay. I'm so fucking happy, and I wouldn't have ever predicted this actually happening.

Guess you win...

Thanks, inner voice who used to scare me. Thanks a lot. I do win.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After helping Stan clean and get everything finished, we head home. Eddie holds my hand as I drive and talks about how he wants to paint a mural in my room, a feature wall as he so poetically puts it. I can't help but giggle. I mean, it's a silly suggestion to say the least. But silly doesn't necessarily mean bad. Maybe.

"Maybe we could head to Home Depot or something, get some paint. What do you think you would paint?" I ask. "Maybe a naked portrait of me. So every day I wake up seeing something sexy."

"I was thinking maybe a sunset behind a city silhouette. It could be so nice. I want to move to the city someday. Get some stupid waiter job just to pay rent, but man...if I have to live in another suburban town I think I'm going to suffer. There's no escape when you live in a place like this. Not from my mother. You're what keeps me going."

Damn. Even though I know him, he can still always surprise me. It's a sweet sentiment. And the fact that he opens up to me makes me feel really good, too.

"I'll be a comedian. And you'll be a famous painter. And we'll have a little dog, too. And you'll dress in sweaters and I'll look sexy as hell without glasses, because in this idealistic future there's no such thing as eyesight issues."

He giggles happily. "If we can end eyesight issues, I also want to end asthma."

I look over at him. He's so cute. The way he smiles. They way he can make everyone around him smile just by looking at them.

And I guess if I'm being honest I wasn't entirely looking at the road at that one specific moment.

"Jesus, Richie!!"