Reddie Oneshots

-84- Dead

TW// homophobic slurs

"His eyes met mine, twinkling in the starlight... he leaned in and," Richie made the most obnoxious smooching sounds he could muster, then slammed the book shut and threw it at Eddie. "Fucking cock sucking flamer. I can't believe you read that for... fun." He winked, grabbing his bag and Eddie's lunch money off the ground and gesturing to his posse. They walked off snickering, leaving Eddie sitting with his back against the cold school bricks and hot tears rolling down his hot cheeks.

He realized something, sitting there on the dead grass and dirt ground.

With trembling arms, he packed up his bag, stuffing his book down into the bottom. He was never bringing that to school again. Ever. He kept his eyes on the ground as he walked home, barely even looking up to cross the street.

When he got home, Richie was waiting for him at his front doorstep.

"Eds!" he called.

"Don't call me that," he muttered, pushing past him and making a beeline for the door.

"C'mon, Eddie," Richie groaned.

"I don't want to talk to you." Eddie unlocked the door, pushing it open.

"Eddie, come on, it's not what I did earlier is it?" he sighed. "You know I have to."

Eddie scoffed. "Sure." He left the door open as he left, signalling that Richie could come in if he really wanted. He did.

"Eddie, please, I have to... you of all people know that the best... Here's your lunch money back by the way," he mumbled, dropping two dollars and fifty cents into Eddie's open bag that hung on its hook in the front hall.

"You have to fucking bully me, Richie, not use the things I love to humiliate me in front of fucking everyone." He slammed his water bottle down onto the kitchen counter angrily.

Richie blinked. "I– Eddie, wait, come on," he called, following Eddie up the stairs towards his room.

"Are you even trying to get them to stop? At all?" Eddie demanded, trying to hide how he felt behind his anger.

"Wh– Eddie, I can't," he defended. "They'd know!"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Bullshit. Figure it out." He slammed his bedroom door.

"Eddie, I'm gonna get fucking murdered or something if I try!" Richie yelled, opening it up and following him inside.

"Well then at least I wouldn't be dying alone!" Eddie roared. "I can't fucking keep this up, Richie! It's been awful for a while now, getting worse, but today was the last straw! I can't keep doing this shit!" His eyes were brimming with tears and red from rubbing them, his hair was messed up and his skin patchy from crying, but he was still beautiful in the eyes of his boyfriend.

Richie was taken aback. He watched as Eddie collapsed on his bed and buried himself under the covers. He pondered this for a minute, then sighed in resignation.

"Fuck," he breathed. It's fine, only three years left of high school... "fine, I'll try to stop them. And if they ask questions, then... I'll tell them."

Eddie stopped crying, and waited for a second. He flipped over and tossed the blankets off him so he could face Richie and he smiled, tears brimming in his eyes. He scooted backwards, leaving some space for Richie on the bed.

He lifted up the blanket—his way of inviting Richie in—and watched as Richie wiped away his tears aggressively and huff. Then, Richie got up and lay down beside Eddie, letting his boyfriend tuck him in and throw an arm around him.

"Thank you, Rich," Eddie whispered. "I mean it."

With a heavy sigh, Richie put his arm around Eddie too. "Don't thank me, I should have done this ages ago," he mumbled.

Things really did get better from there. And, what was even better, was that Richie didn't even have to tell Bowers anything. He decided that night that he'd make fun of Bowers for being a "faggot" and being "obsessed" with gay people whenever he would bully them.

It actually and genuinely worked.

Henry Bowers was so insecure about his sexuality that he stopped bullying Eddie because Richie was saying that it made him seem gay.

Eddie was thoroughly impressed, and it didn't just help him; it was a help to all of the gay kids at their school (of which there were a surprising amount in Eddie's opinion—an impressive nine).

From there, Richie just... slipped away from their friend group. He stopped coming to meet up with them and he waited patiently for them to stop inviting him in the first place. Once they did, he was in the clear.

A couple of days after Richie cut contact, he and Eddie sat in Eddie's bed again, just talking. Or, rather, just sitting there in a comfortable silence (between Richie's loud burps—he couldn't handle emotional security, or emotional anything at all for that matter).

"Hey, remember what I said a while ago?" Eddie murmured.

"You've said a lot of things, Eds," Richie replied.

"Shut up, I mean... remember when I was mad at you, and I said it would be better if you died too because then at least I wouldn't be alone?" he asked.

Richie turned over on the bed to look at him. "Yeah?"

"We're not dead," Eddie giggled.

Richie grinned. "Damn, you're right... I guess we're not dead."

———

This kind of applies here so !!! PSA nobody's mental health is more important than yours! If taking care of someone is making you feel like shit you CAN take a break. Having two depressed people is worse than one, and although you may feel selfish you will always be more able to take care of them when you're in a better mental state.
I should practice what I preach here but I've been doing this for so long that it's a pattern, and it's definitely not helping my mental health so !!! Take care of yourself :)