Sometimes, Richie thinks he always knew. The stolen glances given to the older boys in the shower at the summer camp he attended that one year, the way his skin felt as if a dozen ants were crawling under his skin as he brushed elbows with another boy as he played video games in the local arcade. Sometimes he thinks back to the boy who made him realize these feelings, and others he thinks about the boy who borrowed his heart and never returned it.
The first time Richie ever realized he liked boys he was 14. All the other boys in the group were looking at Bev as they laid by the quarry, but he was looking at Bill Denbrough. He always thought Bill was so cool, despite the stutter, with just a few words everyone would follow what he had to say. At first, Richie just thought he admired that about him, but as he thought about Bill's pretty green eyes, and his stupid haircut he quickly realized that wasn't the case.
But boy, oh boy, when Richie was eight years old, he had met the prettiest boy he had ever laid eyes on. He had been in the second grade, and the teacher had wanted to introduce a new classmate. Richie decided from the moment he laid eyes on him he wanted to be his friend. Richie had invited him over to show him his Matchbox car collection.
When Richie was 10, the older boys would call him a queer. He didn't know what that meant. Eddie didn't call him that though. Neither did his other friends, but with Eddie, it felt different. Maybe he knew then, maybe he knew the other boys we're right, or maybe all he knew was Eddie's snarky remarks.
When Richie was 15 he told Eddie he liked boys, not yet knowing the word for it. Eddie didn't say anything. He just pulled Richie in for a hug and told him he would never leave him. Richie felt like his skin was on fire.
When he was 16 he and Eddie laid side by side, soft music playing, their hands brushing against each other every so often. Richie had told Eddie he thought he would never get out of this town, and that he'd just die here. Eddie told him that he was an idiot and that he was smarter than he knew.
At 17 Eddie got a girlfriend, her name was Myra. Richie hated her. He thought she was a bitch, she always bossed Eddie around, and never listened to him, and wouldn't let him hang out with Richie. She had called him a queer too, this time, he knew what it meant.
At 18, he had kissed Eddie, and Eddie had kissed him back. They interlocked pinkies at the dinner table, sharing shy smiles as Richie's mom asked how they slept.
When they were 19, they had an apartment together, and a cat. Eddie went to community college, he wanted to be a mechanic. Richie didn't. He worked part-time at a local record store while performing comedy gigs at any place he could.
Now, at 38 years old, he looked into the eyes of the very boy who stole his heart. 20 years was a long time to love someone, Richie had said as his vows. Eddie giggled. Richie loved it when he did that. Richie didn't notice he had started crying.
"You may now kiss!"
Right as Richie had leaned in, he felt Eddie's quiet whisper.
"I love you."
