Kisses | Reddie

twelve ☆ dumbass

by: redsmaze on ao3 (all credit goes to them, go check them out or else ;))

After running into trouble at the arcade, Richie decides he has nothing to stay in derry for. it's just full of people faking that they care about him, faking that they like him. Not even his parents like him, and if they don't, who will? He packs his bags and he's ready to leave until he hears a knock on his window.

Trigger Warning: (homophobic slur)

~~~~~

Richie hadn't been himself all day, it was hard to miss. He wasn't cracking jokes 24/7 like usual, he'd only made like 3 that entire day. He distanced himself from the group and was rarely talking, even when he was brought up into the conversation.

He had gone to the arcade the day before without his friends because none of them wanted to go. He found some boy there and played a game with him.

"Hey, I...uh, I have another token, if you... if you wanna play again," he turned from the machine and looked over at the boy. The boy looked back at him with an expression stating that he wanted to play again, but then Henry walked into the arcade.

"The fuck's going on here?" Henry walked up to the two.

"Y-You asshole's didn't tell me your town was full of little fairies," the boy Richie was playing with turned to Henry. Richie looked between him and Henry, confused, because the kid had been so nice to him before Henry had walked in.

Henry looked form the boy, and then looked to Richie, a look that seemed as if he wanted to kill him; which wasn't surprising. "Are you trying to bone my little cousin?"

Richie just stared, dumbfounded.

"Get the fuck outta here, faggot!" Henry basically screamed, spit flying out of his mouth at the strength of his words.

Normally, Richie would have put up a fight. He would have, if the words had not affected him so much. It felt like he had been stripped of his clothes, he had been exposed somehow. He slowly backed to the exit, just so he could get away from the situation. He felt numb, his legs barely
co-operated when he told them to move; until Henry yelled again, that is.

"Fucking move!"

Richie looked at his feet, and then at the people in front of him again. He realized that he would be in terrible trouble if he didn't get out of there right then, so he turned and sped out of the building. As soon as his hands hit the door, he ran. He ran as far and as fast as he possibly could. He needed to get away from them; from everyone.

Had he made it obvious? He didn't even know if he was gay himself. But still, he felt as if he had been completely exposed in front of everyone there. He felt like everyone knew, that he wasn't doing well at hiding it, and everyone hated him.

He stopped and caught his breath on a park bench. He was trying his very best not to break down during the time he was running, but now that he had nothing to distract him, he started crying. Nothing could stop him. Luckily, no one was in the park to see him.

---

It was still hitting him the next day. That's why he acted distracted all day. He felt like if he talked, ether it would all come out and he would expose himself, or he would break down and cry.

Henry's words repeated themselves in his head all day; he was on the verge of crying. That was when he started making his plan. He was going to go home, pack his bags, steal money from his parents and head to Bangor to hopefully be happier. If he got caught, so be it; he'd just run.