𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 - 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞

(Love Is) Fucking Agonizing, And Twenty Other Frank Sinatra Hits

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Eddie was asleep—after getting his throat and Richie's fists properly bandaged, waiting with the Losers in Mike's living room as investigators searched the area and questioned everyone involved, and being told what had happened and what was going to happen (not to mention nearly being killed), the boy was rightfully exhausted, so Richie didn't mind biking him home.

Once they were closer to town, streetlights lit his way, a much needed contrast to the impossible darkness of the backroads to Mike's house. He worried that Eddie would wake up with all the light, but the boy only snuggled his face into Richie's jacket and went back to sleep. Richie swooned.

Then, like a dark cloud on an otherwise bright day, Eddie's road loomed into Richie's view. He slowed the bike up to the stoplight and eyed the street sign nervously. Richie was almost afraid to go to the house; what if Sonia was waiting for them? She was already likely to scream at Eddie anyways, but with Richie there... Things wouldn't be good for either of them if Sonia was waiting.

It didn't help that he didn't want that moment to end; he wanted to have Eddie cuddled against his chest for eternity (as long as Eddie was happy with it, too, of course, but Richie doubted he would be. Richie sometimes found himself doubting if Eddie even liked being his friend, if he was just his friend because he felt bad for him).

Nevertheless, the light turned green and Richie continued on his way. The house was one of the last on the road, but after a few seconds of pedaling, he could pick it out from the rest.

Sooner than he would've preferred, he turned into the yard, not bothering to try avoiding sticks or puddles—they wouldn't exactly be easy to spot.

He splashed into a puddle and nearly slammed into the tree almost immediately.

While Richie scrambled to regain control of the bicycle, Eddie hardly stirred, and by the time Richie was stopped, he was concerned about how exhausted Eddie really was.

Richie sighed, smiling down at Eddie. He didn't want to wake him, but staring was weird and he didn't want Eddie to cramp from staying in the same position on a bike for too long.

Turns out, all it took to wake Eddie up was prodding his sides.

Eddie shot up (nearly slamming his head into Richie's jaw), squeaking and grabbing at Richie when the bike wobbled from the sudden shift. Eddie huffed, peeling his hands from Richie's shirt and grabbing his hands instead.

He glared up at Richie; a warning. A very un-intimidating warning, but a warning nonetheless, that if Richie ever did that again, Eddie would break each of his fingers. It was un-intimidating because Richie knew for a fact that Eddie would be too disturbed by even the idea of breaking someone's fingers to actually follow through.

Richie, being Richie, grinned ear-to-ear, absolutely delighted by this discovery: Edward Kaspbrak was ticklish!

Eddie groaned, and Richie giggled quietly. "It's cute!" he whispered, squeezing Eddie's hands. "Like you, Eds; cute, cute, cute!" And he meant it. He teased Eddie for a lot of reasons, but none of them were malicious unless you thought like Sonia Kaspbrak or Henry Bowers, and he hoped, pleaded Eddie didn't think like them.

The bike was fixed to its kickstand in record time (but still enough for the silence to replace their energy with exhaustion), and a few seconds later, Richie was holding Eddie up by his hips to crawl into his window.

He didn't comment on it when Eddie's shoe lightly kicked his face and dragged mud up his cheek, or how, when Eddie finally pulled himself through the window, the movement caused water drops to rain down from the windowsill. Richie didn't complain when he ended up drenched. He just slid his glasses off his nose and dried them with the hem of his shirt, and used a puddle on the windowsill to wash the mud from his cheek.