Reddie Oneshots

-68- Plants (1/2)

In honour of 4/20 (it's late I'm sorry, I forgot I had written this😭🙏)

"An explosion at a meth lab just outside of Derry has just killed three people. Police are working with medical specialists to find the identities of the victims... and the potential perpetrators. The amphetamine abuse crisis has-"

Richie switched the channel, to an old rerun of some stupid sitcom. "Fuckin depressing," he grumbled, turning back to his work.

"Y'know, I will never be a meth dealer. Ever," Ben muttered, putting down his scissors to itch his neck.

"Yeah, fuck that." Richie picked up his own pair, clipping a wide leaf out of the flowers in his hand. He dropped it in the growing pile of spiky leaves, and lifted the flowers up to the light. "Alright, this bud's done."

"Yeah," Ben mirrored Richie's actions. "This one, too."

"Sweet, so that's the end of 'em. Now we hang 'em to dry," Richie stood up, grabbing a couple more bunches of purple flowers as Ben followed.

"What are you doing?" Eddie mumbled, following Richie through the halls the next day. Senior year had just begun and he had barely seen the guy this summer.

"Doing some business, don't worry," Richie whispered.

"What the fuck do you mean? You never go this way, this is where Bowers goes," he hissed.

"You don't have to come," Richie shrugged. "Up to you."

"Well what are you fucking doing?" Eddie demanded as Richie headed on out the back doors of the school into the shitty parking lot.

Richie turned to face him, watching as Eddie nearly walked right into him. "Listen. I'm going to meet Victor. I'll be right back, meet me at the front doors, okay? We'll go for a movie or something. 'Kay?"

Eddie looked up into Richie's eyes, searching for an answer. "Why?"

"Doesn't matter." He turned to head towards the corner of the lot. "I'll pay for your ticket," he called behind him.

Eddie huffed. "Fuck." He stood at the door for another couple seconds, then followed Richie, standing behind the dumpster and watching the exchange.

An "exchange" more literal than he had expected.

He watched Victor produce three bills from his pocket and hand them to Richie, who counted them. Then Richie handed Victor a plastic bag full of what looked like wilted grass. In clumps.

Holy shit.

Eddie turned to run towards the front door of the school. He was definitely not meant to see that. He leaned back against the doorway, trying to compose himself.

"Hey! Did you pick a movie?" Richie asked, stepping up beside him and leaning against the wall.

"Uh, I... um no, um... you pick," he offered.

"Oh okay. I was looking at the Point Break movie, it looks pretty cool," he pushed up his glasses and looked over at Eddie for approval. "You?"

"Uh, that has a lot of drugs in it doesn't it?" Eddie mumbled.

"I mean... I guess so? But drugs aren't bad," he laughed. "For the most part," he winked.

Eddie glared at him and pushed off the wall. "Fine then, if you like drugs so much," he spat, trotting down the stairs and out onto the front field of the school.

Richie blinked, taken aback, before following him. "Wh- Eddie, it was just a joke, c'mon. Also, some of them really aren't that bad, seriously!"

Eddie whipped around.

"So you sell them to people?" he whispered. "Hmm?"

"What?"

"You sell them to fucking- to Victor, do you sell them to Henry too? Belch? Patrick? Is that why they're all fucking maniacs?"

"Belch... Eddie, Belch died in that meth lab," Richie murmured.

"You're not gonna fucking deny it?" Eddie huffed, looking away and biting his lip. "Fuck, Rich, you're sixteen."

"Almost seventeen," he murmured.

"Not really!" Eddie retorted.

Richie sighed in resignation. "Fine, fuck, but let's talk about this somewhere where Butch Bowers won't wander in at any moment."

"Jesus, Richie," Eddie muttered.

"There," Richie pulled the door shut and turned to Eddie. He was met with a silent stare.

"Explain yourself."

"Fuck, Eddie. Fuck! Listen. Listen, okay? Okay." He paused, looking for a place to start. "Okay. I don't sell anything hard. That's Beltch's— well, it was Belch's parents' business. I deal weed and sometimes shrooms when they bother to fuckin grow."

"What the fuck, Richie? What the fuck?" Eddie hissed. Richie just looked up at him through his glasses with purses lips. "First of all, who knows?"

"Uh, like, as in clients?"

"No fuckhead, I mean the fucking losers. Is it just me who didn't know?"

"No!" Richie yelled. "God no. It's Ben and Beverly. But Bev doesn't like, help, she just knows."

"Okay... then also, where the fuck do you get the weed from?"

"I grow it," Richie grinned proudly, sitting back in his seat. "I got three indica dom plants, two the same strain, and I got two sativa doms. They're obviously bigger though, so I'd say it counts as three plants."

"English please, I don't speak stoner," Eddie quipped.

"Hey, fuck you," Richie laughed. "I said I have five plants, with different strains."

"Fuck is a strain?"

"Uh, like... the effect of weed changes depending on the, like, breed it is." Richie frowned. He was not explaining this well. "There's two main types: indica—which is more relaxing and sleepy. Some people even call it, like, 'the nighttime strain'. Then there's sativa—which is the more active one, y'know? Like, more... energizing I guess?"

Eddie just stared at him. "Motherfucker." He shook his head. "You know more about this than the contents of any class you're in."

Richie shrugged, then a long silence engulfed them. "So... movie?"

"Point break?"

Richie shrugged.

Eddie laughed softly. "Drive on."