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Chapter One

Richie Trashmouth Tozier stares at his bedroom wall in deep thought, daydreaming of soft, chestnut locks and sun-kissed freckles. He turns to his alarm clock, the tinted screen reads 1:37 a.m. He figures Wentworth and Maggie Tozier had already passed out in a drunken coma, so he threw his gangly legs over the side of his bed and grabbed his Walkman with his favorite tape already packed safely inside. He slips on his beaten up sneakers and climbs out of his second story window, snatching the pack of cigarettes that Beverly Marsh had conveniently ”forgotten" on his window sill. He silently makes his way down the tree that grew practically in his window, and starts down the street with a small, fiery, seventeen year old hypochondriac fresh in his mind.

When he reaches the familiar house, he climbs up the drain pipe that he knows all-too-well, and knocks on Eddie Kaspbracks window. When the small boys head pops up from behind the glass, Richie sighs in relief that he wont have to go back home. At least not for a few more hours.

Unsurprised to see the mop of curly, raven hair peeking up from behind his window sill, Eddie lets out a disgruntled sigh and opens the window with his small arms. Richie climbs in awkwardly, offering the smaller boy a thankful smile.

"What are you doing here Rich? Do you know what my mom will do to me if she finds out that you're up here this late?" Eddie whisper-shouts as the gangly boy shuts the window behind him.

"Awe shucks Eds, I thought you'd be at least a little happy to see my ugly mug." Richie smirks down at the boy, ruffling his hair playfully, getting lost in the soft strands. Eddie fixes his hair and pouts up at the taller of the two. Richie wasn't ugly, not in the slightest. While he was thin for how tall he was, standing at about 5'9, whereas Eddie was barely hitting 5' 4, his awkward length had a boyish charm. And even though Eddie had mentioned that Richie could use a hair cut, beneath this raven-colored curls were wide, blue eyes framed by thick, coke-bottle glasses that he only wore at night or when he was with the rest of the Losers. Other than that, he wore the contacts that he had switched to when they all started highschool.

And dusting his cheeks were clouds of freckles that Eddie found precious, but you'd never hear him say that aloud. His nose was crooked from the amount of times Henry Bowers and his goons had broken it, but it blended perfectly with the rest of his features. Including his full lips, that were in a permanent shade of pink from anxiously biting them. Along with his sharp jaw and high cheekbones, no. Richie Tozier wasn't ugly by any means.

Eddie chooses not to mention this, but instead gives a friendly punch to the boy's shoulder, saying warmly, "That's not my name". He grins up at Richie from the familiar banter.

"Sorry, Eddie Spaghetti". Richie smiles, making his way over to Eddies bed, not before taking his shoes off. Eddie smiles at the simple gesture. Of course his best friend would remember Eddie's distaste for dirt.

"Not even close 'chee." Eddie giggles as he leans back against the window frame, watching the gangly boy make himself comfortable.

"Why are you here Rich?" Eddie asks softly, knowing full well what must have happened. They'd been friends since they were seven, of course Eddie knew. But it was a formality, simply to hear the extent of the damage done.

Richie's face falls, but he quickly pastes on a wide smile, looking over at the worried boy.

"What, I cant just stop by to see me ol pal?"He exclaims in a horrible british accent.

Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes as he pushes himself away from the window to sit by his friend. Without looking up at Richie, he reaches out and holds his hand, rubbing his thumb soothingly against the pale skin.

"How bad?" Eddie asks, looking up at Richie through thick eyelashes, continuing to run his thumb up and down his hand. Richie sighs, looking down at the boy trying to soothe his fraying nerves. He takes in Eddie's exhausted face. Even as sleep deprived as he probably is, Richie still thinks he's beautiful. With his soft, curly, chestnut-brown hair, to his wide and innocent doe-like eyes that sparkled a gorgeous light brown. Down to his button nose that Richie ached to kiss, and sprinkled across his sun-kissed cheeks were light freckles that matched the ones on his shoulders. And underneath his adorable nose, were his plump lips that Richie had thought about endlessly.

Currently, his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth in an anxious manner as the small boy waited patiently for a response.

"H-he hit her. And I-I couldn't stop him Eds, I couldn't! Every time I even got close to him, she would tell me that it was none of my business, it was like she didn't even want help!" Richie finally let out in a shaky voice, nervously tapping his foot on Eddies hardwood floor, making his knee jump sporadically. Noticing this, Eddies other hand moved cautiously to his leg as to calm his anxieties.

"Hey, hey, take a breath chee. That's not on you. Its not your responsibility to babysit them." Eddie cooed as he comfortingly dragged his thumb up and down his shaking knee. Richie looked like he was going to cry, but he turned his head away from the small boy as he cursed the tears that began to well up in his eyes.

"Do you care if I crash here tonight? I can sleep on the floor." Richie anxiously whispers, pulling his lip between his teeth, chewing nervously.

Eddie laughs, "Of course idiot, not like I was gonna let you leave anyways. I don't wanna be the one responsible if you get murdered by a junkie walking home," Eddie jokes, but then adds "and you don't have to sleep on the floor. There's more than enough room up here." Eddie gestures to his bed.

"Yeah, alright." Richie turns to the beautiful boy beside him, smiling gratefully. Richie stands up as Eddie pulls the covers back and climbs in, patting the space next to him. Richie grins softly and lays down next to him, pulling Eddie in for a hug before falling asleep with the small boy in his arms.