#like i want to strangle whoever wrote this annoying. & it brings up the possibility that i might have to say fag🚬 with a straight face in a

[jokerlennon]

english people how disreputable is the daily mail

[kaitlyn-writes]

Eddie Spaghetti

Eddie Spaghetti || Teen || 6,444

Overview: Richie Tozier wasn’t brave. He never had been. Not in fifth grade when he made it to third base with Jenny, not in eighth grade when they had fought IT, and definitely not now in his senior year, as he was forced to accept a secret he had kept even from himself.

A short R+E fic I wrote at three in the morning to ease my pain.

TW: Swearing, mentions of sex

“Eddie Spaghetti.”

“What, dickhead? And don’t call me that.”

Richie laughed as he pushed Eddie with his foot. He let himself fall back onto his bed from the force of the kick as Eddie’s tsks and tuts filled the space between them.

“As much as I love to sit in silence while you ignore me to make out with your schoolwork, I’m bored. Let’s do something.”

“Do what, bitch?” Eddie responded absentmindedly. He didn’t even bother looking up from his work. “I’ve got a lab report due next week and I’ll be damned if you make me fail it. Don’t-”

“E-d-d-i-e,” Richie annunciated.

The smaller boy drew his mouth into a thin line. In the fifteen years since they had known each other, this was one of the few times that Eddie held his tongue. He would never admit it, but the only time he ever did was if he already knew he would go along with whatever Richie proposed.

Richie had discovered that fact a few years ago. The only problem that came from knowledge that powerful was that it left Richie’s stomach in knots that he couldn’t quite explain. And that he couldn’t bring himself to fully take advantage of Eddie’s complacency.

So instead of saying, ‘Hey, my heart gets all funky when you scrunch up your nose and laugh at my jokes. I don’t really care what we do, I think I just want to make you smile forever.’ Richie proposed, “Let’s go get our dicks wet at the quarry.”

His voice came out much more confident than he felt.

“You want to go swimming in that dirty lake when we could go to Bill’s house and swim in his new pool.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a no.

“Obviously. That pool’s too tiny for my massive dong. I need room to breathe Eds!”

“You know you’re fucking disgusting.”

It still wasn’t a no.

Richie grabbed onto Eddie’s arm and pulled the best puppy eyes in the entire world. His lip quivered and he let his chest jump up in fake, strangled sobs.

“Ed, Eddie, please. Swimming!”

“Lab. Report.”

Eddie’s smile and his quick glance up to Richie’s face betrayed his reply.

“Swim. Ming.”

“Ming isn’t even a word, jackass. Fucking do your homework!”

Richie jumped from the bed with Eddie’s arm still held loosely in his grip. Eddie didn’t pull his arm back. He never did. That was another thing Richie had learned. He wiggled Eddie’s arm daintily, letting his grip loosen until Richie’s hand had moved to hold Eddie’s wrist.

Eddie was small. It was one of his most defining features. Right alongside being Too Fucking Cute and Really Fucking Annoying. Both in the best possible ways. But it was moments like these when Richie was forced to realize just how small Eddie actually was. With his fingers touching because his hands completely covered Eddie’s thin wrist. Eddie’s small smile tugged up to his small eyes, scrunched into a small scowl as he pretended not to want to agree with Richie’s request.

Eddie’s reply almost lost itself on its way to Richie’s ears.

“Hey, did you hear me? Or do I have to change my mind?”

Richie shook his head and dropped Eddie’s wrist. He moved his hand to his chest and bowed towards the door, drawing a sarcastic laugh from Eddie. Even that was enough.

They both took the steps two at a time, calling out to whoever would listen as they ran.

“Hey, going out for a bit, be back later. Don’t wait up and we’re taking our bikes! See ya!”

It wasn’t like anyone would have tried to stop them. Richie liked to think that his parents were just cool like that. And hey, maybe they really were.

Laughter filled the early fall air as the door snapped shut. Eddie, as reluctant as he was minutes ago, sprinted ahead of Richie and jumped onto his bike. He peddled across the sidewalk a few feet ahead by the time Richie made it to his bike.

If it was a race he wanted, by god, he’d get one.

The only problem with racing, they both already knew, was that they each knew every shortcut. They knew where the crowds were, where the path turned bumpy, where there was only enough room for one bike at a time. And if you made it to that part of the trail first, well, you pretty much won. But that never stopped them from trying.

By the time Eddie’s tires threw the dry earth into the air as he screeched to a stop, Richie had already leaned his bike against their tree. Yes, their tree. The winning tree.

Eddie’s bike fell into the dirt and he threw his hands into the air in defeat. His fingers spread to the heavens as his eyes rolled back in his skull. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go and shouted, “Un-be-lievable!”

He stomped forwards, letting his words get lost in Richie’s laughter.

“You almost killed that old woman! You know she probably dropped her groceries, might have even broken her hip. If she was a witch and she cursed me I’m taking you down with me.”

“Edward Sphaghettward, I curse he and thee-” Richie started.

He knew Eddie wasn’t actually mad, no matter how hard he tried to hide his smile. Even though Eddie wasn’t actually mad, he still grabbed onto Richie’s shirt and narrowed his eyes, backing them both to the cliff’s edge.

Richie didn’t exactly try and stop the advance, though. He walked backwards as effortlessly as Eddie pressed forwards. It wasn’t until they stilled a few steps from the edge that Richie realized he hadn’t finished his joke. He had started to notice that happening a lot recently. No matter how often Eddie stole the words from his mouth, Richie still found himself surprised by it.

He found himself wondering what it meant, too. What it meant for his loudmouth self to fall speechless. But that was always something he thought of later. Never in the moment. In the moment he thought about other things. Like now, for instance. With Eddie’s ‘angry’ expression staring up at him, inches from his face, as he gripped Richie’s shirt in his fist. Richie’s mind thought a lot of things.

Currently, his main thought was, ‘What would it be like if I hit my forehead against Eddie’s right now?’ Well, not hit, necessarily. If he just clunked his forehead against Eddie’s and let it rest there as they stared into each other’s eyes, what would it be like? He swallowed hard.

Richie opened his mouth again to try and cover the blush he thought he felt in his cheeks. He couldn’t believe his stupid brain still thought it felt embarrassed around Eddie. He’d never been embarrassed around Eddie in his life. So why-

“Shut up,” Eddie interrupted before Richie could even make a sound. “I hate you.”

Richie blinked. A smile spread across his face, but he wasn’t completely sure why.

“I hate you. I’m jumping.”

Eddie let go of his shirt, took two giant steps, and lept from the cliff.

Richie swore as he moved past him that Eddie’s face was covered in blush too, but it had all happened so fast that he wasn’t quite sure. Besides, he had been lost in his own head. He had blushed. He could have just imagined it on Eddie too.

What would that mean if he hadn’t imagined it?

Richie plunged down after Eddie. The water stung as he crashed into the pool but the feeling in his chest from the drop was enough to even out the pain.

“My dick feels so free!” he yelled as his head broke the surface.

Almost instantly, his mouth filled with water as Eddie splashed him for his comment. They both laughed, though. It couldn’t have been too bad.

Richie lunged forwards and caught Eddie’s shoulders, leaning his hair back into the water. It had already been soaked from the jump, but Eddie still pretended to be offended.

Time lost meaning as they swam. Neither noticed that their hands had turned to prunes or that their stomachs had shriveled to nothing or that the sun had started to caress the tips of the trees. They were too busy laughing. Too busy living.

Richie wasn’t sure how he managed to do it, but Eddie ended up on his shoulders at some point. No one else was there to play chicken with them. Eddie’s free ride was some sort of silent agreement neither of them were aware of making. But neither one complained.

In the end, Eddie was the first to point out the sun. The water had turned an even darker shade than normal as shadows crept over them. Richie had known for a while that they should have left—he was sure Eddie had known too—but he didn’t want to be the one to end their fun. Eddie could be the party pooper.

Reluctantly, they both pulled themselves out of the water and dripped their way back up the cliff.

“I can’t believe you didn’t bring any towels,” Eddie huffed.

“You could have grabbed some too, ya know. I’m not the only one with hands!”

“Yeah, but it’s your house. And it was your idea to swim and sabotage my entire future by skipping on my lab report.”

“Fine.” Richie stopped in the middle of the trail and hung his head, forcing Eddie to turn with a reluctant smile and watch Richie’s performance. “Eds, I hereby humbly apologize for ruining your whole future forever by forcing you to come on this epic day of fun instead of finishing your boring lab report a week and a half before it’s even due.”

“Come on, drama queen,” Eddie laughed. “If we hurry, I might be able to sleep over. I just need enough time to tell my Mom first.”

Richie’s insides flipped at the mention of Eddie’s mother. Or maybe it was from him offering to sleep over at his house.

“Oh, no need to tell your mom. She can come too. My bed might be able to hold us both. You can take the rug, of course.”

Eddie deliberately doubled back just to smack Richie on the back of his head.

They walked a bit more in silence. Richie found himself lost in his head again, thinking about the feeling of Eddie’s hand against his head. Thinking about what it might feel like if Eddie let his hand linger a moment. Thinking-

“Where’s your head at? You’ve been quiet for like, five whole minutes. That’s got to be some kind of record.”

Eddie’s voice snapped Richie out of his haze but left him somewhere worse. What exactly was he supposed to say? ‘I was thinking about your hand in my hand, Spagheds.’ Fuck no. That’s… weird. Eddie would definitely think so.

Richie never got to think of a reply before Eddie cut in again.

“What are you thinking about right now? I swear to god if you hesitate a second before you answer I’m throwing your bike in the water.”

“My massive dick,” Richie answered in a flash.

It was an obvious lie, that much was clear to both of them, but Richie would be damned if he lost his bike. No bike meant no riding with Eddie. Between school, their parents, the other Losers, and every other damn obstacle in their god-forsaken town, Richie wasn’t about to voluntarily let anything else take time away from his best friend.

“Then I’m thinking about motherfucking Ben,” Eddie snapped in response.

It was too dark to see Eddie’s face, but Richie didn’t need to see him to tell that he was pissed.

“Was- er, were you thinking about Ben?”

“Obviously fucking not, Rich.”

The sound of crunching leaves filled the now heavy silence between them. It was so sudden. So stupid. But of course, Richie’s stupid mouth fell quiet again at the worse fucking time. Always around Eddie. Always when he never wanted to stop talking.

“Hey,” Richie heard himself say.

He’d thought it—he’d thought out an entire conversation, actually—but he never planned on following through with actually saying anything. It was too late to turn back now, though. Neither of them stopped walking, but Eddie turned his head questioningly, expecting Richie to continue.

“I’m, uh, sorry if I did something. Or said something. And I’m not being weird, or, I’m not trying to, but- are you angry with me? And not like, playful angry, but actually snappy and pissed. I know this is stupid girly shit and it’s so weird that I’m even bringing this up because it seems like it happened so suddenly and maybe I’m reading too much into it but I don’t want you to be angry with me and we’re almost up the hill and then we’ll be on our bikes and if we’re riding we can’t talk and-”

Eddie’s sigh calmed the fear beating against Richie’s chest. “Fucking breathe, jesus christ.”

He did. It was deep and ragged and completely out of character. He drew in a breath and let it out as he fell silent again. He wasn’t a sap. That was Ben’s shtick. Bill too. But not him. He hated the way this felt in his head and his heart and his pulse.

They rounded the corner to the top of the cliff in silence. The silence held as they grabbed onto their bikes. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything. Richie swung his legs over his seat and turned to look at Eddie. It was a good thing he did.

Eds hadn’t gotten on his bike yet. Instead, he held it in a death grip as he stared at the ground. They were high enough now that the last of the sun’s rays danced across Eddie’s face, highlighting the lines of frustration that drew across his forehead.

Something inside Richie pulled him to ask what was wrong. To drop his bike and comfort his friend. But something else held him back.

They spent a few more minutes filled with silence before Eddie finally looked up. Richie’s heart skipped a beat as they locked eyes. Feelings were fucking stupid.

“Rich, I wasn’t thinking about Ben.”

“Yeah, we established tha-”

“You weren’t thinking about your dick.”

“It’s hard not to think about.”

“I will throw you back in the fucking sewer with that fucking clown I swear to you-”

“Okay, okay,” Richie laughed softly. “Look, I uh-”

“Do you think I’m brave?”

The question completely caught him off guard. How could he not be brave?

‘Eddie, loud mouthed, witty, unapologetic, I broke my arm, mouthed off to my abusive overprotective mother, faced every fear I’ve ever had, killed a fucking clown, ditched his homework to jump off a cliff into some dirty lake water, Kaspbrak. That fucking Eddie somehow thinks he’s not brave?’

They both sat on their bikes now, staring at each other. Eddie nodded his head thoughtfully and it took a second for Richie to realize that he had said all of that out loud. That definitely wasn’t what he had intended. How many times had he done that before?

Eddie eased himself onto his pedals and slowly pushed off from the ground. He crept by Richie as the sun fully dipped below the trees and said quietly, “I want to be brave.”

His soft voice left butterflies in Richie’s stomach. It was the stupidest fucking thing. He hated when that happened. Except he didn’t hate it. Eddie was so fucking brave. Richie on the other hand, he could act brave, but none of it was true. He was a coward, and of course, it would be Eddie who made him realize that fact.

Eddie. Who made Richie feel like the bravest and the most cowardly person in existence. Eddie, who tugged at Richie’s mind almost every minute of every day. Eddie, who- fuck. FUCK. Fuck fuck fuck. Shit.

Richie’s heart nearly beat out of his chest. His sweat covered palms slipped as he struggled to keep his grip on his bike handles.

What the actual genuine motherfucking fuck. Why did he realize this now? It took him four years. Four fucking years to come to this realization. It terrified him. Richie was almost scared to even acknowledge the thought. If he did, that might make it too real. He wasn’t brave enough for that. Fuck.

Richie bolted ahead of Eddie at top speed. He barely heard Eddie’s angry, “Hey!” called out behind him, but he didn’t stop. Not until they both rolled up to Eddie’s porch, panting and heaving.

Somehow Richie managed to even his breathing long enough to say, “Can’t stay over tonight, forgot, I’ve got a thing. Sorry. See you tomorrow!” and pedal away.

He left Eddie, soaked and panting on his front porch with no further explanation, but in the moment, he couldn’t have given one. And of course, he’d said, ‘see you tomorrow,’ because even in this mess, even in his fear, he couldn’t stay away. Fuck.

Somehow it felt like both an eternity and only a second had passed when Richie finally skidded to a stop outside Stan’s house. He tripped over his handlebar as he jumped from his ride and sprinted to the doorstep.

He took a second to compose himself, prepared his best voice and his most proper manners to convince Stan’s father to let him in, and knocked.

Shuffling came from the other side of the door after another eternity of waiting and it finally creaked open.

“Mr. Uris, hello. I’m sorry to bother you at such a late hour but I have to talk to Stan. Now.”

He spoke too quickly, too urgently, he knew that. But his mind was moving at a bajillion miles per hour and he couldn’t calm himself down if he tried.

“Richard, of course. I’m sorry, but it’s a school night and Stanley has already gone to bed. I’m sure your talk can wait until morning.”

He moved to shut the door, but Richie wedged his foot in the crack just in time to feel his toes crunch in his shoes. Mr. Uris looked shocked. Richie fought back a swear and forced a smile onto his face as Mr. Uris pulled back the door, releasing Richie’s foot.

“Please, I forgot we have a project due tomorrow and if I don’t talk to him now, I could realistically die. I’m completely serious,” he added after Mr. Uris gave him a strange look.

“I will make sure and have him up early, but I’m afraid tonight just won’t work. Goodnight, Richie.”

He cursed softly as the door fully shut and the hall light snapped off: A clear signal for him to Fuck Off. Or it would be if Richie didn’t know which window was Stan’s.

After a few minutes of waiting, or maybe it had only been a few seconds, Richie doubled back into the landscape and dug out the biggest rock he could find. He wound his arm back, aimed, and tossed it gently against Stan’s window. Except it wasn’t as gentle as Richie had anticipated. Actually, it wasn’t gentle at all. The rock completely shattered the window, spraying the room with shards of glass.

Richie cringed as he stared up at the mess. A war raged in his mind as to whether or not he should run. But before he could make the decision for himself, Stan appeared at the scene of the crime. He held the rock in his hand, aimed down at the ground below as a fire blazed in his eyes. He had been fully prepared to attack whoever had assaulted his window until he saw it was Richie.

Realizing it was his friend only made him want to throw it more. And he did.

The rock missed Richie by a few feet, but only because he knew Stan hadn’t aimed properly. He leaned out his window and half shouted, half whispered, “What the hell was that for?”

“I have to talk to you right now or I’ll die, and your dad wouldn’t let me in the house!” Richie shout-whispered back.

“So you break my fucking window?”

“I’m going to fucking die, man! Right now! Talk!”

“All you ever do is talk...”

Stain pulled his head back inside and disappeared. Richie tapped his foot impatiently. He rocked back and forth, spun in circles, paced. He did basically everything ever because Staniel was the slowest person on earth. But finally, the door creaked open, then shut, and Stan joined him on his lawn.

“What t-”

“Stan, I think I’m gay.”

The words fell from his mouth before he could even give them an ounce of thought. It was lucky he even managed to say it, but it hadn’t been far from his intended reveal.

“Okay...” Stan trailed into silence with a look on his face that screamed, ‘is that all?’ and frankly, Richie was offended.

“Okay? That’s all you have to say? Why aren’t you freaking out? I’m freaking out! I’m about to have a motherfucking heart attack on your lawn!”

Stanley’s face softened suddenly, and he cut Richie off before his rambling could go any further. That was part of the reason Richie went to him over any of his other friends. Stan knew how and when to shut him the fuck up.

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”

“Yes, I’m being serious! I’m having a crisis, a gay crisis, and I don’t know what to do! I don’t even know if I am, but-”

“Oh my god. Okay, I’m going to bite my tongue on a lot right now but just let me get one thing off my chest.” Stanley took a deep breath and looked Richie dead in the eyes. A dopey smile plastered his face. “You’re just finding this out now?”

Richie’s mouth had already opened, anticipating nearly every possible response but the one Stan had just given. His mouth snapped shut out of confusion before he tried again.

“What do you mean?”

“Rich, you’ve been making googly eyes at Eddie for the past five years!”

“You mean goo goo eyes?”

Richie realized Stan’s bait too little too late. He had already fallen into the trap of asking, so that was on him. It was stupid. Barely even a joke. But it did help calm him, somehow.

“See! If it wasn’t true you would’ve thrown a joke there.” His tone suddenly turned more serious, though it still held the kind support Richie craved. “So, it is Eddie?”

“Yeah… I guess it always has been.”

“What made you realize now?”

A sigh escaped Richie’s throat as he tilted his head back, staring up into the stars. Where to even begin.

“I took Eddie swimming like, five minutes ago-”

“You realized this five fucking minutes ago?!”

“Shut up, I’m going through atonement here. Yeah. I’ve been thinking about stuff for a while. Not like, whether or not I like guys, but just the way Eddie makes me feel. It’s warm and jittery and happy and sick and all these weird conflicting emotions that ball up in my chest and my head and-”

“Rich.”

“Yeah, sorry. Anyway, we swam and Eddie asked me if he was brave. Then I thought a bunch of stuff in my head that I guess I accidentally said out loud. Nothing weird, just basically, ‘Yeah, Eddie. You’re super brave and here’s a ton of reasons why!’,” Richie said, accompanied by a terrible Eddie impression. He cleared his throat and continued. “That got me thinking about how I really do think he’s brave. But I’m not brave. But Eddie makes me feel like I’m brave, and I’m always thinking about him, and he gives me butterflies, and the best part of my entire day is getting to make him smile. It all just kinda hit me. I think I’m gay. And I think I have a crush on Eddie.”

Stan rested a hand on Richie’s shoulder. He understood. Aside from Eddie—which, now he was technically a crush, so could he really even count?—Stan was Richie’s closest friend. That meant they knew each other. He knew what Richie needed.

“It’s gonna be okay. Did you talk to Eddie about it?”

“Obviously not, that’s why I’m here or I’d be...”

Richie wanted to make a joke. He wanted to say, ‘Or I’d be back sucking his dick.’ but he had no clue how Eddie would react to Richie’s confession and it seemed wrong to joke about something that could potentially ruin his entire life. Richie wasn’t even sure himself as to what he wanted. He had liked girls in the past. Or at least, he thought he had. But now that this realization had struck him, there was no denying that he liked Eddie. He really liked Eddie. He just didn’t know how any of this worked. It sucked.

“This is going to eat you alive if you don’t talk to him.”

Stan interrupted Richie at the perfect time even when he was trapped in his own head. He almost wanted to hug him.

“Thanks, Stan.” Richie pulled his bike from the ground and jumped onto the seat. Stan’s confused expression drew a smile across Richie’s. “If I think too much it’ll never get it done so I’m going to go talk to him while I’m still riding the Stan high. Make sure tomorrow at school I’ve said something!”

“Wait, Richie, not tonight! His mom-”

“Yeah, I’ll confess my love for her too!” he shouted back over his shoulder.

Just like that, he was gone. He’d apologize to Mr. Uris about the broken window later. Now, he had more important things to attend to.

If Richie didn’t think Stanley would call him out in front of the rest of their friends for not talking to Eddie, he would have ridden straight home and panicked in silence for the rest of the night. But Stan would Absolutely do that. And Richie had promised. So here he was, stopped in front of Eddie’s porch, again, for the second time tonight. It couldn't have been much more than an hour since he left, but that didn’t matter right now. It couldn’t.

Richie’s heart pounded as he threw a pebble against Eddie’s window. He was careful this time not to shatter the glass, but breaking it proved much more effective. It took Richie nearly ten tries before he finally got Eddie’s attention.

He looked angry as he leaned out into the cool air. His freshly showered hair stuck to his forehead.

“What do you want? I thought you had a thing?”

“I did. Thing’s over now. Can we talk?”

Eddie’s face scrunched in concern. He almost pulled his head back inside but thought better of it. It was like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the git when he nodded hurriedly and waved Richie inside.

Scaling the tree that branched to Eddie’s window barely took a second, or maybe it took forever. Either way, once he finally stepped inside and Eddie quietly lowered the glass behind him, time stopped completely.

“How was your thing?” Eddie asked in annoyance.

“You know. It was a thing.”

Perfect. Eddie stole his fucking voice again. They stood for a bit in complete silence until they both rushed to speak at the same time.

“I thi-”

“Rich, I-”

They shared an awkward laugh. The next minute was spent arguing over who should talk first, until Eddie finally drew himself up to his full height—which barely reached Richie’s nose—and demanded that Richie talk. It was the first time he had ever heard someone ask him to talk. Usually it was the opposite.

“Okay,” Richie started with a shaky sigh. “I, uh, hate talking about feelings and junk. That’s girly and weird. And I’m not that, but I- I wanted to say that, well, to talk about- I wanted you to know that I realized, maybe, I think-” Richie swore under his breath and muttered, “God, I sound worse than Bill,” before he forced himself to continue. “Gay. That’s- I think I’m gay. That’s it.”

That wasn’t it. But even just saying that took too much effort. So for now, that was it.

Silence filled the room again. It grew heavier with every passing second, but Eddie never looked angry.

For the first time in his life, Richie stayed voluntarily quiet. To add another first, he prayed. He didn’t even pray that Eddie liked him back. Just that he wouldn’t hate him. That they could still be friends.

“What about Jenny? Sixth grade?” Eddie finally asked.

Richie couldn’t help but laugh. The outburst brought a smile to Eddie’s face and for a second, Richie let himself hope.

“Well, I liked her then. Or, I thought I did. I thought that was the best day of my life for a really long time-” Eddie’s face fell suddenly and Richie quickly changed the subject. “But now I don’t know if I actually did like her or not. It might have been an in the moment thing. But if it wasn’t- I don’t know if you can like both. But I know now I’ve got a crush on a guy. Like, it’s definitely a crush, and so I think I might be...”

He trailed off into silence again. Eddie sat down at the end of his bed and nodded his head slowly.

“You can like both, dipshit,” he said quietly.

Richie mimicked Eddie’s actions, nodding his head slowly. He barely registered the playful insult.

He guessed that made sense. You could like chocolate and vanilla, so why not girls and guys? That made sense...

“What were you going to say?” he asked eventually.

Eddie swallowed nervously and shifted his weight on his bed.

“I uh, I don’t like both. That’s what I was going to say. Guys and girls. I don’t like both.”

It took a second for Eddie’s confession to fully register. By the time it did, Richie had never been gladder in his entire life that he held his tongue. He might have confessed a dark secret and ruined their friendship, but at least he hadn’t admitted to having a crush on Eddie specifically.

After Richie failed to respond, Eddie finally broke the long spell of silence. “I only like guys.”

Richie continued nodding his head until Eddie’s words finally clicked into place. When they did, Richie’s entire nervous system shut down. He froze mid nod, his eyes staring at the carpet. His eyes shifted up slowly, afraid of what they might see. When gaze finally met, Richie saw nothing but warmth.

He found himself smiling without even having let it happen. A warm, nervous feeling filled his chest.

“Yeah?” Richie asked breathlessly.

Eddie laughed in response. “Yeah.”

“So, uh, how long have you known?”

“It was about five years ago when I really accepted it,” Eddie confessed. “But I think I knew when I was a lot younger. You?”

“About an hour ago.”

He hadn’t meant to admit that, but his brain wasn’t exactly working on his terms right now.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised in a crease, and he drew his head back in shock. His face had turned redder than a tomato. He tried to play it off by looking up at the ceiling and ignoring Richie. It worked about as well as he expected it to.

“I didn’t mean-” Richie started, but Eddie cut him off.

“You made me realize I was gay.”

Silence was the theme of the night. The only plus was that each time it fell over them, it felt better than the last.

“Really?”

Richie’s breathy reply filled with more hope than wanted to allow, but at this point he didn’t care.

“Yeah. It was that year when everyone hit puberty all at once-”

“Fifth fucking grade,” Richie groaned.

He nodded his head and closed his eyes. It felt good to fall back into his jokes.

“Yeah, fifth fucking grade is right. Everyone else got crushes and went off and had sex and… I just wanted to hang out with you. I was just, don’t fuck with me for this, I thought I was a late bloomer.”

Richie snorted but Eddie’s sharp glare set him on his best behavior. He threw himself onto the bed by Eddie’s pillows and propped himself onto his arm, ready to hang on Eddie’s every word.

“I thought maybe I was broken, or I hadn’t actually hit puberty. Then one day we had a stupid science project and we came here to work on it.” Eddie paused to deepen his blush. “We got it done really fast and I still wanted to hang out, so we laid around and read comics for a while-”

“Wait, I think I remember that-” Richie interrupted, but Eddie cut him off again.

“You got bored and you’re an asshole, so you gave me a wet willy and I wrestled you for payback...”

Eddie trailed off but he didn’t need to finish the story. Richie remembered exactly what happened.

He was bigger than Eddie, he always had been. So, when Eddie had tried to retaliate with a wet willy of his own, Richie didn’t shy away from proving his strength. Eddie had pushed Richie playfully into the wall, but he flipped their roles like it was nothing.

They struggled for a bit, but Richie only let it draw on so Eddie wouldn’t feel bad. Richie ended up on top of him, pressing his wrists down into the mattress as he let out a triumphant laugh. Eddie’s face had flushed red from the exertion of fighting him, but looking back, there might have been another reason for his scarlet appearance.

The electricity in Richie’s chest might not have just been from his victory.

“This one guy in our grade made me realize,” Richie sighed dramatically. He let a dreamy look fall over his face as his gaze rose to meet Eddie’s. He was surprised when he thought he saw Eddie’s face hold a glint of anger. “He’s about yay high-” Richie held his hand to his nose. “Dark eyes, darker hair, and the only wit in the world to rival my own. Oh, and he’s the cutest motherfucker in the entire world.”

Richie’s heart raced just having those thoughts rattle inside his head, let alone saying them out loud. An hour and a half ago he had forced himself to come to terms with the fact that he liked guys. That he liked Eddie. Now, somehow he found the courage to speak his heart. This was all way too much and he loved it.

“What the fuck, dick for brains?”

Richie snapped out of his euphoric daze and stared at Eddie in confusion.

“What?”

“Dude? I just confessed to having a lifelong crush on you and you sit here and tell me about some other guy that gave you a hard on? What the fuck?”

How on earth could he have fallen in love with the stupidest person in existence. ‘Love?’ That was a thought for another day.

Richie couldn’t help but laugh. He rolled forward and grabbed onto Eddie’s knee, pulling himself into a sitting position so he could lean against the wall. Really, he did it to lean closer to Eddie. Now, more than ever, all he wanted to do was be close to him.

“It’s you, Eds. You’re my fucking crush.”

His gentle voice calmed Eddie’s rage. It took a moment, but Eddie finally laughed. His blush turned soft as a smile stretched dimples into his cheeks.

Richie wasn’t sure how long they laid in bed and laughed. It felt like forever. Like no time at all. He never wanted it to end. But when it finally did, they were both leaned against the wall, an arm or hand keeping their skull from throbbing against the hard plaster. Their heads were close. Barely inches apart. That’s what finally stilled their laughter. Proximity.

“You smell like the fucking lake,” Eddie finally whispered.

Laughter was their new theme. It was much better than silence, but the threat of it never left. Richie held his breath as their giggles faded. It was his turn to break it.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

Richie wasn’t brave. He never had been. But he was learning pretty quickly how to change that.

Eddie nodded without a moment’s hesitation and then they had both leaned in. Nothing existed but Eddie.

It was slow at first, both hesitant to move out of fear or nervousness or whatever the fuck. But the second Richie’s cold, chapped lips pressed against Eddie’s smooth ones, he felt starved. He needed to kiss Eddie, more than he had ever needed anything else in his life. And fuck, he was gay.

Richie pushed back against Eddie needily. He had barely enough sense to put his hand in Eddie’s hair before his head slammed into the wall. His hair was still damp from his shower, but it was soft and short and shit it felt so nice.

Eddie kissed him back just as hungrily. They pulled each other closer, nothing but a mess of limbs and tongues.

The second Eddie parted his lips and tugged at Richie’s curls; Richie was gone. His tongue pulled a moan from Richie’s throat. Eddie swallowed it as Richie tipped his head down and deepened their kiss.

Richie suddenly pulled back and threw his lips against Eddie’s cheek. Then his jaw, and his chin, and his neck. His fucking neck. He had to hold a hand against Eddie’s mouth to stop his moaning.

He could stay in this moment forever. Terrifying and new and fucking euphoric. But he knew he couldn’t let himself. Not now. As much as he wanted to.

Richie drew his tongue up Eddie’s neck, savoring his freshly washed taste and the sounds his mouth pulled from him.

“Is it okay if we wait?” Richie panted.

His chest heaved with every breath he took and damn if he didn’t want to keep going. But he needed to think. And Eddie needed to breathe. And they had all the time in the world.

“Yeah,” Eds responded breathlessly. “Yeah, whatever you want. Yeah.”

Richie leaned in and kissed him again, softly. He pulled Eddie down on top of him as they fell back into the mound of pillows.

They laid together in Eddie’s twin bed, holding each other close. Richie wasn’t going anywhere. And Eddie didn’t want him to.

Richie’s mind hadn’t been still since the second he had learned to think. But right now, in this moment, only one thought filled his mind.

‘Stan should have told me I was gay years ago.’

[80sfern]

teacher’s pet

okay so. this is my first michael fic and i originally wrote this ab someone else and never finished it so i changed the name to michael and finished it, so if there’s anything that doesn’t really match up thats why. i’m putting a read more bc its lo send me an ask if u want more!!

word count: 4k

warnings: smut. lots of smut.

You don’t have any reason to be here except you’re trying to decide if you want to go to college and sit through classes all the time or try and do as many online classes as you can and avoid talking to shitty professors and getting called on even when you don’t know the answer. You’re sitting next to your best friend in her English lecture with one of your legs lifted resting across the desk, picking at the dry skin on your cuticles while you wait for the professor. They need to be redone, it’s been at least two weeks since you’ve gotten them done, it’s a wonder you didn’t break any yet.

You’re waiting for the professor to begin his lecture but as you look around the room you can’t find the Professor at his desk, only the student teacher standing next to the podium swiping through a pile of papers. He passes a stack to the first person in the row and the papers get passed around the room with each person taking one.

You’re still waiting for the Professor to arrive when the blond looks up and looks right at you and your friend, “Miss Lett, would you let your friend know I do not condone feet on my desks?” It hits you that the young man with curly hair is Professor Langdon and before your friend can pass along the message, you slide your leg from the desk. Your expensive boot clacks on the ground and the chain on the ankle jingles at the movement. The rest of class goes off without a hitch, he reads a poem off the paper he handed out and asks the room to analyze what the poem possibly means and annotate it and state various characteristics of it. He calls on students afterwards to ask their input on what they think the poem is talking about and then mentions an online assignment to write their own poem that would fit in the same genre of poetry.

By this point you’ve decided you quite enjoy the class, despite not having had an English class for the past two years you correctly guess what the speaker is talking about and you know the era that it comes from. The class is silent, everyone working on the new assignment the last few minutes before they’re dismissed when your phone goes off. Your cheeks flush as you hurry to shut it off as the other students glare at you for interrupting the peace. It’s silent again for a moment until Professor Langdon breaks it again, “Whoever’s phone just went off, see me after class you should know by now that I do not tolerate phones interrupting my class.”  

When he dismisses the class, your friend starts walking towards him and you grab her arm. “Paris, let me talk to him, it isn’t your fault.” She shakes her head but when you insist on talking to her professor she agrees to wait outside. You knock on the door of his office and before he can question you, you apologize. “Sorry for the trouble I caused you Mr. Langdon. It was my phone that went off, I really didn’t mean for it to, this is usually the time I wake up, so I had an alarm set and hadn’t turned it off.”

Mr. Langdon laughs lightly, it quickly dies out when he realizes you’re serious, “Your alarm? It’s almost two in the afternoon...Just make sure if you come back it doesn’t happen again; you aren’t a student here so I can’t punish you and give you an essay to write.” You nod and leave before it gets awkward, your fingers wiggling a wave as you pass through the door and return to your friend in the hallway.

++

A few nights later, you go to a bar off campus with your friend, hoping to get drunk but avoid annoying frat boys at the bars closer to the college. Your friend finds someone to hook up with in an hour and leaves you after you promise her that you’re safe and you’ll keep her updated through texts and if you really need her you’ll call her. It helps that you’ve met a cute boy with curly brown hair and a nice smile, who offered to buy you drinks but didn’t push for you to accept.

You keep talking to him until you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn around, your eyes widening as they come into contact with Paris’s professor. “I thought that was you, wasn’t sure with the lighting though.” You can’t help but check him out, his appearance now is so different from days before. Now he’s in a faded Coca-Cola shirt and a leather jacket, ripped blue denim on his legs, hair curly and flopping on his forehead rather than styled liked it was previously. “I didn’t get your name,” he adds and sits in the bar stool next to you.

Your cheeks flush as he flags down the bartender and orders you both another drink, “Her, Mr. Langdon.” You turn back towards the guy from earlier to apologize but he’s gone, you hadn’t even realized he left.

Michael sips his drink, “Call me Michael, what can I call you?” You bite your lip and hesitate before you tell him your name, holding out your hand for him to shake. Somehow, you end up flirting with him, leaning on your arm and you can’t stop staring at his lips and his Adam’s apple bobbing when he drinks and then licks his lips before he keeps talking. He has all your attention and he isn’t even doing anything particularly amazing, but his biceps look good wrapped in faded red after he took off his leather jacket and he keeps running his fingers through his hair and god everything he does is attractive.

You don’t remember moving but at some point a new group comes in and complains that there aren’t enough seats together at the bar and you offer yours and Michael in exchange for a booth and a minute later you’re sitting next to him in the vinyl seats and you’re so much closer now, your thigh is brushing his and you can feel his breath on your when he leans into you and laughs at something you said. The bar goes quiet for a minute, the band playing settles down between songs and you can’t stop staring at Michael, he’s talking but the alcohol is clouding your mind and you’re lost in the way his lips are moving and he keeps licking them and occasionally  biting.

Michael catches you staring and goes quiet, he knows you aren’t listening anymore so he slowly brings one hand to cup the back of your neck and he leans in until his lips are brushing yours and you can taste the alcohol on his breath and he leaves it for you to finish. It only takes a moment for you to get the hint, your right hand moving to rest on the back of his head as you push forward and kiss him, a moan falling from your lips at the contact. When he pulls away you chase after, your free hand pressing into his thigh to stop him from moving away, so he settles for resting his forehead against yours. “Fuck...I shouldn’t be doing this,” He mutters as you brush your lips against his, your fingers petting the back of his head.

You shrug and rub your nose against his, “I’m not one of your students, Mr. Langdon.” You kiss him again and he groans, one of his hands shifting to hold your waist as your lean further into him.

He pulls away as you’re thinking about crawling into his lap, wondering what sound he would make if you did it. “I hope this doesn’t sound bad, but I live like a block away.” You don’t want to seem desperate, but you think you might as you nod and press another kiss to his lips while pulling him out of the booth. He reminds you of his tab that needs to be paid and while the bartender takes care of his tab and yours after Michael insists, you both sip on cups of water courtesy of the bartender.

You clutch his arm as he leads you out of the bar, you shoot Paris a text that you’re safe and going home with someone and you’ll see her in the morning and ignore the pang of guilt as you let Michael lead you to his apartment. His hand finds yours as he leads you around the block, keeping you steady as you complain about the heels. His hands find your waist in the elevator and he pushes you against the wall so he can kiss you again, his lips rough against yours and you melt into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer.

A whine leaves your lips when the shaft halts and he pull away to guide you to his door. You wedge yourself between him and the door as he works with his keys to undo the two locks, your lips finding his neck and distracting him from the task. The door falls open without warning and you stumble back, the door no longer supporting your weight and he catches you with his hands on your waist, holding you against him and laughing.

You kick your heels off as you step into his apartment, his door shutting behind you and he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can easily sandwich you between his body and the wall. Michael grinds his hips against yours and your moan into his mouth, your hands working to push his leather jacket from his shoulders. He breaks the kiss to take off your shirt and you switch to kissing his neck before he can reattach your lips. Your legs tighten around his waist as he pulls away from the wall and carries you into his bedroom, leaning forward when he reaches his bed until your back is pressing into the plush surface.

You crawl up the bed until you hit the pillows and he follow after kicking his shoes off and pulling his shirt off over his head. You take a moment to admire him, absentmindedly biting your lip as he crawls up your body with that fucking smirk on his lips. Michael starts undoing your pants before you even ask, pulling them down your legs and pushing them off the edge of the bed as quickly as he can. He kisses his way back up your body, his hands guiding his mouth until they reach your hips and slide up your back to the band of your bra. He fingers the clasp for a moment before looking up at you, “Can I-“ You nod and mumble a please, or try to the best you can but it comes out a strangled plea that causes Michael to giggle as he undoes the clasp and finally pulls your bra away from your body. His lips find yours again for a short kiss before he’s kissing back down your body. His right hand twists your nipple slowly between his fingers while his mouth sucks on the left, biting and tugging the bud until he decides he should give the right the same treatment. You wrap your legs around his hips and bring your hands down to his belt buckle, only half your focus on the task as his mouth distracts you but you manage to get it undone and his button and zipper soon follow.

Before you can get his pants pushed down, his hands are grabbing yours and pushing them above your head. “Keep them there,” he demands, biting down on your chest to punctuate the order and you nod and grab the pillow your head is on to anchor them. Michael’s lips trail down your body until he reaches your panties and he moves to kiss your right thigh, sucking and biting at the skin all the way down your knee then repeating the process on your left. You can feel the wetness on your thighs, and you wonder if he can smell you. He smirks up at you and softly presses a kiss to your center through the panties, it’s a chaste kiss at first and then he does it again, this time an opened mouth kiss and he brushes your clit with his teeth through the fabric. You gasp his name and tighten your grip on the pillow as he loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to his mouth. He teases you until you’re begging, hips grinding into his face as he sucks on your clit through the soft material and he finally gives in to the urge to really taste you.

Michael is in awe of how wet you are as he drags his finger through your folds before pushing it into your mouth. He only leaves it for a moment before he’s retracting his hand to use so he can slide your panties to the side. He licks a stripe through your folds, wiggling his tongue against your clit and then he sucks the bud into his mouth, rolling his tongue against it. He can’t get enough of the moans falling from your lips and he’s wondering how long you can last with your hands above your head and he hopes it isn’t too much longer because he really wants to feel you pulling his hair while he makes you come on his tongue.

You last until he curls two fingers inside of you and nibbles on your clit, your resolve crumbles and without thinking your hands are reaching down to pull his hair. He moans at the first tug, encouraged by the sounds you’re making and the way your thighs keep twitching by his head and clenching around his fingers and knows you’re close. He sucks harder on your clit, dipping his tongue down between his fingers before he flicks it over your clit again, moaning when you pull his hair and press him closer to you. You can’t help but grind your hips down onto his face as the knot in your stomach tightens, fingers curling and back arching as you chant his name. You rock your hips up and you feel his hand leave your thigh and a moment later it’s slapping down on your ass, the sensation pushing you over the edge as he massages the skin.

He teases your clit with his tongue and lets you rock your hips against the muscle as the pleasure takes over your body until you slump back against the bed and push him away. He laughs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he pushes himself back over you, softly kissing your neck and shoulders as you catch your breath beneath him. You giggle as his lips finally reach yours, your fingers trailing up his arms until they wrap around his neck and you pull him closer to deepen the kiss. You keep one arm draped over his shoulders and drag the other down his chest until you reach the waistband of his jeans, hooking your fingers into them and pushing them down his thighs the best you can.

Michael laughs at your struggle when you only get them down a few inches and pulls away from the kiss to take them off. Before he can settle back on top of you, you push him over, so he lays on his back, crawling over him to straddle his thighs. “My turn, Michael.” You lean down to kiss his neck, sucking light marks that’ll fade over the weekend before he has another class. You flick your tongue over his nipple and bite down, a shocked moan escaping his lips. The teasing continues until you reach the band of his boxers, snapping the band against his skin before pulling them down his thighs. You can’t hold back the moan when you finally see his cock, his thighs twitching when the cool air swarms his cock and he looks so pretty. You slowly rub your hands along his thighs, “Is it weird if I say your dick is pretty?” You giggle and he laughs, nose scrunching as you kiss his hip and before he can respond his breath is leaving his chest when you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and your tongue flicks over the tip. A groan is punched out of his chest when you wrap your mouth around the tip and start jerking off the rest of him.

It’s his turn to wrap his fingers in your hair and he watches you begin to bob your head on his cock, his lower lip tucked between his teeth as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’re only sucking him off for a minute before he’s pulling your mouth off him, “Wanna fuck you,” he explains and pulls you back up his body before wrapping his arms around you and flipping you underneath him. You breathe in a gasp and watch as he pulls your panties down your legs, throwing them down onto the ground and he rolls the condom on.

Michael teasingly rubs the head of his cock along your folds a few times, tapping your clit and sending little jolts of pleasure through you. Just when you’re ready to beg him to fuck you, he pushes in slowly until he bottoms out, you whimper at the stretch and involuntarily clench around him. You’re seeing stars and he hasn’t even done anything, but you can feel him deep in you and you’re pretty sure if you tilted your hips just right you could see a soft bulge just above your mound. You shift your hips up to let him know he can move but he grips your hip in one hand and pushes you back onto the bed. A smirk blooms on his face, “Come on pet, tell me how bad you want my cock.”

You whine and pull him closer, trying to grind your hips down on him for some kind of friction but his grip on your hips is tight. “So bad Michael, just move already. Please, please, please move already baby.” You beg and he pulls his hips back, cock dragging against your walls and you moan at the feeling.

And then he pulls all the way out and rubs the head of his cock through your folds, “You can do better than that pet, let me hear you.”

You tighten your fingers in his hair and huff, “Come on, you couldn’t punish me earlier so do it now, wreck me Mr. Langdon.” The moment the words leave your lips, his hips snap into yours and he finally sinks into you again. He builds up a rough pace and neither of you can hold back the moans spilling from your lips, so he presses his lips to yours to muffle them, swallowing your moans in the kiss. Your hands move from his hair to his biceps on either side of your body, nails digging into the skin for a moment before they move to his back and scratch along the skin. Michael loves it, he can feel the red marks blooming on his skin and moans into your mouth before pulling away and pressing his lips to your neck.

He grabs one of the pillows next to your head and slows his movement enough to use one hand to push your hips up enough that you get the hint and raise your hips so he can push the plush pillow under your ass. The new position forces the breath from your lungs, and you can feel him so deep in you, hitting all the right spots. His lips are all over you, moving from your neck to your chest and back to your lips, sucking and biting everywhere they go. He can feel you getting closer, your moans getting louder and your fingers pulling his hair harder. Michael drags his fingers to your center to flick his thumb over your clit, moaning into your skin when you clench around him and arch your back into him.

You wrap your hand around his wrist and pull it towards your neck, placing his fingers around your neck and whining, “Please, Michael.” He presses his fingers into the sides of your neck, and you press yourself further into him, silently begging for more. Your fingers replace his on your clit and you’re so fucking close, you can’t even form words to let him know. You’re blabbering as he fucks himself into you roughly, his hips smacking against yours, cock dragging against all your best spots and the head rubbing your g-spot with every thrust. Within moments you’re coming around him, his hand leaves your throat as your orgasm hits you and the sudden rush of oxygen makes the pleasure so much more powerful.

Michael slows down as your orgasm washes away, your body still tingling with the aftershocks. You run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a slow kiss. You know he’s close as his pace falters and pull away from the kiss to gasp, “Michael, wait. Want you come on me.” He groans into your neck, a low fuck falls from his lips at your words and a moment later he’s pulling out of you, sitting back on his knees and tugging the condom off then dropping it on the ground.

You wrap your hand around his cock before he can, a moan pulled from him as you begin jerking him off with one hand while the other remains tangled in his curls. You like seeing him like this, sitting above you with his eyes closed and lower lip between his teeth as he whimpers from your touch. He rubs his hands along your thighs as you jerk him off, his grip freezing and tightening when you twist your hand around his tip. He’s so close, his abdomen and thighs twitching as he gets closer. He looks so pretty like this and you’re pretty sure he’ll look so much better when he comes, you can’t fucking wait to see him come. “Come Michael, come on me.”

Michael groans at your words and a moment later when your free hand scratches down his chest, over his left nipple, he comes without warning. His head falls back and his fingers dig into your thighs, his come coating your mound and lower stomach as his hips jerk into you hand. You don’t let go until he pushes your hand away, his own hands shaking from the power of his orgasm and he nearly comes again when you swipe your fingers through the mess on your stomach and bring them to your lips.

He pulls your fingers from your mouth and leans down to press his lips to yours for a slow kiss before he gets off the bed, reaching down to pick up the condom before he goes to what you assume is the bathroom. Moments later he comes out with a washcloth, wiping it over your stomach before moving it between your thighs and cleaning you up. You can’t do anything but watch as he leaves the room and comes back minutes later with two bottles of water, just as you were almost ready to leave.

You had been sure his absence was a silent plea for you to leave without him asking but after he put the bottle on the nightstand next to you and pulled back the blankets after shutting off the lights, the only light in the room coming from the window. A moment later, you join him under the comforter and tug the blankets closer to you. “You should know, I’m a total blanket hog, I get cold easily.” You’re joking a little, but mostly serious as you cuddle into the blankets.

He laughs before reaching out and pulling you closer, “Good thing I’m warm then.”