#slight stenbrough

[birdblorbo]

I'm back on my bullshit, here's the Loser's Club roller-skating

I went skating with my best friend and their younger sister the other night and it single handed threw me back into Loser's Club headcanons so here we fucking go.

Long Post

Bill: He's definitely skated with Georgie before and while he hasn't skating in a while (RIP Georgie I love you) it didn't take him long to get back into the motions of it (Just like riding a bike, pun partially intended). He loses his balance occasionally but always manages to stabilize before he's really in an danger of falling.

Stan: He's a natural. His first time skating he struggled for around five minutes and then all the sudden could skate as though he went every weekend, no one can explain it. Bill and him spend most of the time catching while they skate and matching each others pace. Bill will go check on someone if they fall while Stan pretends not to know them.

Richie: He's really good for some reason??? You'd think he'd be flailing around and falling constantly but he's the only one who can do those fancy turns (Where you put your feet in a triangle, idk man but I can't do it) and skate backwards (if you can skate backwards I hate you I can never figure it out). He likes showing off but in the process trips over children that fall while he's not looking.

Eddie: He can't skate and he's made about it. He is like a newborn deer on an icy road. He desperately grabs onto whatever loser is closest and refuses to leave the wall unless they let him hold onto them. Richie (and occasionally Stan while he skates by) keeps making fun of him and hallway through Eddie gets fed up and goes to sit out until Mike finally convinces him to try again and sticks with Eddie for the rest of the night.

Mike: He's not a pro but he's definitely not bad. He enjoys just slowly going around listening to the music the DJ plays. He's very careful of avoiding young children especially the ones who like to zip around the rink really fast (Honestly the children who are good skaters are more dangerous you don't see them coming and they're unpredictable. At least the kids struggling you can tell where they're trying to go) He's the first to notice if one of the Loser's is sitting out and always goes to sit with them even if it's just cause their feet or ankles are hurting.

Beverly: She likes to go fast. As soon as she's comfortable on her skates she is going around as fast as she can until she falls, knocks someone over, or is asked to slow down by a worker. She's also the first one to get bored and will inevitably drag someone with her to get food (most likely Eddie who was already sitting out and will complain about how gross the food is while proceeding to get probably the worst thing he could've gotten).

Ben: He struggles for the entire time he is there but is determined to be able to skate by the end. He falls the most out of anyone but swears he does not need to hold onto the wall and refuses the Loser's help. Good news! he does eventually get it. Bad news, he gets it down five minutes before closing.

[pr3ttyy]

i wrote a stenbrough thing...

There they were. My mother’s sewing scissors. My hands carefully graced the large silver handles. Quickly, I grabbed them and pull the nearest chair into the bathroom. Since the door didn’t have a lock, I just have to use the chair to hold the door closed. I look in the mirror and press the open scissors to the base of my scalp. I close my eyes and feel the sudden sensation of air on the back of my neck. I cut the long bangs on the sides of his forehead, and though it was sloppy, makes me incredibly happy. My happiness was short-lived, however. I glance down at the bottom of the mirror, where it begins to show my chest. Tears burn at the corners of my eyes. I can’t take it. There is a sudden pain in my knuckles, and my throat hurts from a raw scream. My hands shake and all I can think was “i need to get out, i need to get out.” Numbly, I walk to the door, lace up my converse and start walking. I don’t know where I’m going until I arrive. Stanley Uris’s house. His parent’s cars aren’t in the driveway, but I know Stan is home. I knock, nearly pound, on the door. 

Once. No answer.

Twice. No answer.

Thrice. No--

From inside the house, he heard “Hold on, hold on.” I wait.

“Sorry about that, I- Audra? What’s going on?” I don’t answer. “Audra? Do you want to come in?” I say nothing, but follow him into the foyer, and up the stairs into his room. I sit where he gestures on the bed. 

“Audra is e…”

“Bill.” The first thing I’ve spoken today.

“What?”

“My name. It’s Bill.” Stan blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice. He glances down at our hands, almost touching. Will he make me leave? He picks up my hand, studying the knuckles.

“Bill, what happened to your hand? It looks like you fistfought a mirror or something.” He laughs, but in the concerned ‘shit, something might be wrong’ way. His other hand graces the choppy edges of my haircut. “Did you do this yourself?” He asks it with a gentleness I could only hope to replicate.

Another question. I almost laugh out loud and shove my knuckles in my mouth, but they burn too much. 

“I- W- weh- well… yuh-y-yeah.”

“To which question.”

“B-both.” He looks sad. If sadness was blue, you could see it in his eyes. 

“C’mere.” He takes my wounded hand gently and leads me to the bathroom adjoining his room where he instructs me to sit on the closed toilet seat. He opens some cabinets and pulls out bandages and some kind of antiseptic that burns when it touches open wounds. He applies it and I wince.

“So,” He starts. “What happened?”

“I d-dunno. I-I was uh-uh-upset, I g-guess.” The bandages he uses to wrap my knuckles are soft and bring slight relief to my fucked up hand.

“Want me to fix your hair? It looks like your younger brother did it.” He laughs again, but this time, I smile and chuckle, despite the pain I’m in.

“P-puh-please, Stanny.” His face flushes red at the childhood nickname, and I start to think that I might be alright. At least for now.

[b-b-billyboydenbrough]

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You, Baby

so, this is my first au and i’m a little scared tbh but here it goes. I wrote this while listening to the song “nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby” by cigarettes after sex, hence the name. there might be some grammatical/spelling mistakes in this, so please be lenient!! i hope you enjoy cause this may actually be shit whoops. there’s some slight stenbrough and benverly in here too, but it’s reddie centric. ok, i’ll shut up so you can (hopefully) enjoy.

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Richie Tozier pulled into Derry High School’s parking lot 20 minutes after the final bell had rang. With all the windows rolled down in his car, a random punk song blaring way too loud for these small town people, and a cigarette hanging out the window, he had shown everyone just the type of person he was, a big-city outcast. Having only moved into town a few days ago, Richie had already gained a reputation with the students, though if you knew Richie at all, you’d know that others’ opinions of him are the least of his concerns. Turning off the ignition, he gets out of his car, stomping out the cigarette before making his way to the entrance. From the outside, Derry High School looked small, bland, monotone in color, already giving Richie a bad feeling about where he was headed. As he reached the front, he spotted a girl smoking a cigarette, much like the one he’d stomped out. This girl had short, red hair that had a slight curl to it. Freckled adorned her face, which, even for Richie, was good looking. She had a look to her that made her seem approachable, but with a ‘I will fucking kill you if necessary’ vibe to it. Her eyes were a stunning blue, but not to Richie. He preferred brown. When she hears familiar sound of footsteps on gravel, she glances up, making sure it wasn’t a teacher making unexpected rounds.

“Hey,” she says, making Richie glance back at her again, “haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to, I’m kinda new here.”

“Ah.” She pulls out another cancer stick, offering it to him. Richie takes a look at the front door and questions whether he should take her offer or walk inside.

Fuck it.

He walks over to where the girl was sitting and takes the cigarette from her hand, pulling out this lighter, and igniting it. They sit there in silence for a bit, just the sounds of their lungs being damaged can be heard; that is until the girl speaks up:

“I’m Beverly Marsh,” she says, holding out her hand to him, “but most people call me slut around here.” He takes it, smirking at her snide comment. A matching one resides on her face as well.

“Richie Tozier.” A few more minutes pass before Beverly throws her cigarette to the ground.

“We should probably go, homeroom doesn’t last all day.” Richie repeats her actions with his own cigarette, then follows her inside. The inside of the school had been exactly like the outside, boring. Beverly shows him to the front office, where he first gets scolded for being late on his first day, then he receives his schedule. Beverly immediately take it from him, inspecting his list.

“Damn, Tozier, you’re pretty smart, huh?” She turns to him with a surprised look as she sees the AP classes he’s enrolled in.

“Nah,” he explains, “I just suck up to the female teachers and suck off the male ones,” a joking tone very evident in this voice. Beverly rolls her eyes, but still lets out a laugh. To someone, that laugh would be a symphony that could bring them to tears, but Richie preferred a little deeper ones. At that moment, the bell rang, and students of all shapes and sizes were exiting into the hallway where Beverly and Richie stood.

“C’mon, Richie, I’ll show you to your class.” Beverly tugged on his arm to get him moving in the right direction. “And while we’re at it,” she continues while Richie observes the student body, “I’ll give you a little explanation of Derry High School’s student body.” They continue down the halls, shouting and laughter filling their ears, quite the contrast to the near silence there used to be but a minute ago. They reached what seemed to be a commons of sorts, where students of all groups clustered together in their own worlds. They stopped at the front, giving them a view of everyone.

“Over there, you got your football players.” A group of tall, broad guys stand, jostling each other around. “Now, most of them are mindless shitheads, except for Mike,” she points to a good-looking, dark-skinned guy with a bright smile. “He’s one of my buds. Over there are your book nerds, where you’ll find the most adorable human east of the Mississippi, my boyfriend, Ben.” She points to a chubby kid, sitting by a locker reading a book, a small circle of others are sitting with him, reading books of their own. “You’ll sometimes find Bill and Stan with him, but most of the time they’re off in their own little world together. Or getting thrown into garbage cans.” She looks down at her feet, obviously upset with their situation. Richie raised an eyebrow, urging her to explain.

“Bill’s got a stutter, a bad one, too. Can barely get a word out without it showing. And Stan’s family’s the only Jews in this town. They get it rough around here, possibly the worst of us all.” Richie listens, quite interested to know more about the dynamic of this school.

“We all get it bad, however. Mike is black, so he gets slurs painted on his locker by the assholes he plays with. He doesn’t know it’s them doing it, so he keeps hanging out with them when he’s not with us. And Ben,” she looks over at her boyfriend, love filling her eyes as she stares, “he’s got a little extra weight on him, but he’s working on it so he can join the track team. He’s a lot better than he used to be, but that doesn’t stop ‘em. I think the weight looks cute on him, makes him more fun to cuddle, you know. But he feels he needs to change to fit everybody else’s standards, which is such bullshit to me. And, lastly, there’s me.” She pauses with a sigh, looking back at Richie. “I’m the ‘whore’ of the school. Apparently, I’ve had every guy in Derry at one point. Like I’d sleep with any of these fuckers anyway,” gesturing at the crowds, clearly upset at these imbeciles’ accusations. “But that’s the thing about Derry and its people, you get a reputation, you’re stuck with it.” Richie starts to survey the crowd, observing all the interactions these kids have with one another.

“The losers club, we’re called.” Beverly speaks up again, breaking Richie from his trance.

“I like it. Got a nice ring to it, you know. The losers club,” Richie repeats the name again and again, each with a different accent. Beverly giggles at his stupidity, already knowing they were going to be best friends. He stops when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees something that catches his attention. He was a smaller kid, can’t even be 5’10”.

God, he is beautiful.  

Beverly notices his staring and tracks his line of vision to the source. She smiles brightly once she discovers what, or who, it is.

“He’s name’s Eddie,” she says, startling Richie.

“Huh?” Beverly laughs.

“That boy you’re starting at,” she points over at him, “his name’s Eddie. Eddie Kaspbrak.”

Eddie, huh. Cute.

“What’s his story?” Richie questions, going back to staring at the boy, or Eddie as he now knows. He sees that he seems to float between groups, seemingly fitting in everywhere.

“Eddie is the only openly gay kid at this school.” Richie snaps his head to Beverly, jaw almost dropping. “He’s a very pivotal member of the losers club, even after these people randomly decided that they accepted him. He gained quite the social status because of this, which I’m glad for, ‘cause he got it pretty rough before. Even with his newfound popularity, he still hangs out with us and everything, which surprises us all.” Richie sees Eddie sit next to Ben, appearing to ask him about his book.

“He’s also a germaphobe with an overprotective mother who’s got him convinced that could break at any moment, but him being gay suddenly over-shadows all the things people used to get at him about before. Eddie is one of the most loyal people you’ll ever meet, you know. He’s quite the guy.”

Yeah, no kidding.

Richie notices as Eddie looks over to where he and Beverly are standing, meeting his eyes for but a moment with his own. He feels a chill run down his spine, goosebumps appearing on Richie’s arms. He waves at Beverly, a smile ever-present on his face. She waves back to him, motioning for him to come to her. Panic runs through Richie’s bloodstream, knowing that Eddie is coming over here.

“What are you doing?” He asks Beverly, the panic clearly evident in his voice.

“What do you mean,” she gives him a worried look. “I just thought that you should meet Ben and Eddie.” The two make their way over to the Richie and Beverly, Richie trying really hard to slow down his breathing before Eddie seems him like this. They approach, and he’s even more amazing up close. Eddie has a few freckles scattered about his features, which Richie sees as a little extra charm to his appealing face. Even Richie is shocked at how cute he thinks Eddie’s nose is. I mean, how can a nose be cute? But to Richie, his nose was adorable. Small, round, and adorable.

“Hey, Bev,” Ben says to his girlfriend, leaning in for a quick kiss. She smiles into the kiss, happy with where she is right now in life. As he pulls away from her, Ben gives Richie a first glance, wonder appearing on his features. “Who’s your friend?” Richie extends a hand out to Ben, “Richie Tozier, at your service.” Ben took his hand, introducing himself formally. Richie then turns to Eddie, hand still extended. He takes his hand and Richie feels something. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he’s determined to find out.

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” His voice was a little higher than most, but it was still pleasant. The 4 of them then find themselves in a quick conversation before the warning bell rings, reminding them all that they are, in fact, at a school and they need to actually be somewhere.

“Richie, let me see your schedule really quick,” Bev says to him, extending an arm out. He gives her the paper and she studies it. “Shit, I’m on the other side of the school and I can’t be late for Bio again or I’ll get detention. Do either of you guys think you can show him to the English wing?”

“I can,” Eddie speaks up, “I have class down there anyway.”

Don’t fuck this up, Richard.

Richie gives the group a nonchalant shrug, acting like his stomach isn’t erupting with butterflies at that moment. The two depart from Ben and Beverly, leaving them alone as they walk.

“So, Richie,” Eddie says, trying to find some topic of conversation, “where are you from?” Eddie glanced over at Richie to see that he was already looking back. A blush creeps up his neck and onto his face, not used to attractive guys staring at him.

“Chicago.” Eddie nods, awkward silence surrounding them. They turn a corner when Richie stops, getting an idea.

“Hey, Eds, what would you say to having a little fun with our day?”

“First of all, city-slicker, don’t call me Eds, I hate that,” Eddie takes a step towards Richie, a mix or irritation and curiosity evident on his face. “And second of all, what kind of fun did you have in mind?”

“What’s your GPA?” Confusion is added to the mix.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Cause I don’t want you skipping class if your GPA sucks.” Eddie gasps, rushing closer to Richie.

“We cannot skip class,” he says with a hushed tone, just in case a teacher happened to be walking by and overhear their conversation.

“And why’s that, Eds?” Richie leans up against the nearby wall, a smug smile forming on his lips.

“There are some many reasons why we can’t, Tozier,” his mouth is running a mile a minute, but, still, all the sounds flow clearly. “If my mom were to find out I skipped class, she’d have a heart attack and never let me leave my room again. Plus, it’s your first day of school and you don’t want to make a bad impression already-”

“A little too late for that, sweetheart, I have a feeling a bad impression has already been made.”

“Well, you don’t need to make a worse one.” Richie stands up from the wall, walking over to Eddie with a pleading look on his face.

“C’mon, Eds. You’re only a teenager once! Live a little!” Eddie gives him one more look of distaste before finally giving up.

“Alright,” Richie celebrates to himself, “But on one condition.” Richie stops celebrating and turns to Eddie.

“Which is?” Eddie smirks up at Richie.

“I get to choose where we go.” Richie thought about it for a second, thinking over his offer.

“Fuck it, you got a deal,” he shakes Eddie’s hand, the feeling coming back to him. Eddie’s face flushes, giving Richie a hint that he possibly felt it too. They had to sneak out one of side doors by the gym to avoid being caught. Richie kept this exit in mind for the future, for whenever he’s in need of a smoke break. They reach Richie’s car, climbing into the passenger and driver seats, separately.

“Alright, Eddie Spaghetti-” the nickname earning a groan from the boy.

“That shit is worse than Eds, you fucktard,” Eddie interrupts.

“Jesus, I didn’t know that you could fit so much sass in a small, adorable body,” Richie leans over and pinches the other boy’s cheeks. Eddie slaps his hands away from his face, going into a rant:

“Do you know how many germs are passed through face touching? Your hands are probably so unsanitary from being in the city. How many times a day do you wash your hands? Do you carry hand sanitizer with you? Or at least disinfecting wip-”

“Eddie,” Richie stops him, laughing at his outburst, “I can assure you that my hands are perfectly clean, now relax.” Eddie calms down a bit, already settling at the tone of Richie’s voice. ‘Now, where do you want to go?” Eddie thought for a moment, then instructs him in the right direction out of the parking lot.

“Not gonna tell me where we’re going?” Eddie shakes his head.

“It’s a surprise.” Richie rolls his eyes at the answer.

“I hate surprises.”

“Well, get used to it, ‘cause today is gonna be filled with surprises. For you, at least.” The car ride consists mostly of directions from Eddie and comfortable silence. Not long after they pull out of Derry High School’s parking lot, they pull up on a dirt road beside the woods. Richie raises his eyebrow at Eddie, obviously unsure as to what Eddie’s intentions were.

“If you wanted to find a private place to make out, you could’ve just told me,” Richie grins at Eddie, clearly trying to annoy him. Eddie, not having it, smacks the back of Richie’s head as he exits the car, resulting in him slightly recoiling in pain. He gives Eddie a ‘what the fuck?’ look through the windshield, while Eddie gives him a ‘maybe if you weren’t an annoying piece of shit, I wouldn’t have to resort to violence’ look right back at him. Richie gets out of the car, following Eddie into the unknown.

“What are we doing here, Eds?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there,” Eddie says while continuing to navigate them through the woods. As they walk, there isn’t much conversation exchanged, just the sounds of their feet walking on the fallen leaves and rushing water from the nearby river. They soon reach a small clearing in the woods with a small dam built to stop the runoff from the river. Rocks are placed strategically around that dam, appearing to be a sitting place.

“Richie Tozier, welcome to the Barrens.” Eddie spins around, motioning to the whole clearing. Richie takes good look at his surroundings, noticing that there aren’t many leaves on the trees. Winter seems to come sooner in Maine than it does in Illinois.

“Why’d you bring me here?” Eddie turns to Richie, smile wide on the smaller boy’s face.

“Cause if you’re going to be a part of the loser’s club, you need to know where we spend most of our time.”

“So, I’m in your little club now, am I?” Richie takes a step closer to Eddie, a strong force seeming to pull him to the other boy.

“I mean, Bev seems to really like you for some odd reason.” Richie fakes offense, scoffing at Eddie’s comment.

“I resent that, Eddie Spaghetti. I happen to be a very likeable person.”

“Oh really?” It was Eddie’s turn to take a small step closer to Richie, feeling that same pull.

“Really.” Another step.

“Why do I not believe you, Tozier?” And another.

“Maybe because you don’t have a sense of humor?” They were face-to-face now, only about half a foot distance from each other.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, it is.” He doesn’t know why, but all Richie wants to do is kiss the other boy.

We literally just met today, slow your roll, Tozier.

With that, Richie clears his throat, taking a step back from Eddie. He didn’t show it, but Eddie is pretty disappointed. He’s not exactly sure why, but he is.

“So, where to now, Eds?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Eds? It’s annoying.” It wasn’t.

“You know, the more you tell me not to call you that, the more I want to.” Eddie rolled his eyes, trying to feign annoyance, but secretly, he loved the nickname.

“To answer your question,” Eddie says, trying to steer the conversation back to where it originally was, “I was gonna show you one more place that’ll become more familiar to you the more you hang out with us.”

“Which is,” Richie says, trying to coax an answer out of the other boy.

“You’ll see. Just follow me,” he says, heading in a new direction. Richie follows him, obediently. Just like before, there wasn’t much conversation during their walk, just the sounds of nature surrounding them. After not even a few minutes, they arrive at a clearing where there’s a big cliff, the Kenduskeag waters looking a deep blue from this far up.

“And this is quarry. Perfect place to hang out during the summer.” Richie takes a step closer to the cliff, an idea immediately coming to his head. He starts to take off his shirt; Eddie notices this and quickly responds with a “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Who says that the quarry is perfect JUST for summer days? Why not early fall.”

“Richie, what are yo-” But before Eddie could even finish his sentence, Richie Tozier took a running start and leaped into the waters down below. Eddie rushed over to the edge of the rock and looked down, witnessing black curls breaking the surface of the water. He breathed a sigh of relief, not ready to have to explain to Bev that he already killed her new best friend. And, possibly, his own.

“Come on, Eddie Spaghetti, the water’s great,” Richie yells back to a dazed Eddie, many thoughts swimming through his mind in that moment. He wondered if he should jump in after. He wondered what his mom would think of him in this moment; also, what he thought of himself and Richie. Who exactly was Richie to him? They may have just met that day, but Eddie felt something there, and he could tell Richie felt it too. Well, he thought to himself, might as well find out. Eddie decided to take the chance, stripping off most of his clothing and jumping off the height he’s jumped off so many times before. Only this time it’s different. This time, there’s something besides water waiting for him at the bottom. He popped his head up to be met with a pull to his leg, bringing him underneath the water yet again. Richie comes up first, laughing at his stupidity. When Eddie resurfaced, he had some choice words to say.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I could’ve drowned and died!! I could’ve swallowed river water and do you know how many parasites are in river water? I could’ve been infected with some weird disease and then I’ll have to spend the next week in the hospital getting checked and - hey, where are you going??” By this time, Richie is already a good distance away from the smaller boy, too distracted from his ranting to notice the other’s absence.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Eds, but I’m afraid you’ve given quite the bore,” he says with a goofy British accent, though it still manages to sound like Richie himself. He rolls his eyes, though a small smile fights to keep off his face.

For about an hour or 2 (who’s really keeping track anymore), they mess around in the chilly waters of the Kenduskeag. Feeling like a kid for the first time in awhile, at least for Eddie. They sit atop the cliff, Richie starring up at the sky, hand over eyes, cigarette in opposite. Eddie resides in the comfort of the shade of an old oak tree, making sure to stay away from the sun’s dangerous rays to avoid burning. Richie turns back to him, noticing that Eddie’s twisting a fallen leaf around his fingers.

Pretty.

Richie can’t stop himself from staring at the other boy. His hair was curly, like his own, but it wasn’t out of control. He had a few freckles spread about his features, adding a hint of charm to his already appealing face. Round, deep-brown eyes that Richie could just stare at all day. Get lost in all day. Eddie looks up from his leaf, catching his eyes with a confused look. Richie quickly looks down, a bit of a blush creeping up onto his cheeks. Eddie smirks, but a blush of his own spreads about his cheeks. Richie stands, deciding he was done being in the sun. He takes a seat next to Eddie under the tree, resting his head against the trunk and blowing tobacco smoke above and away from their faces.

“So, Eddie,” he turns at the mention of his name, “tell me a bit about yourself.”

“I thought Bev already filled you in on the basics.”

“Well, she did, but I want to hear from your perspective. What makes my little Eddie Spaghetti tick?” He reaches over and pinches the smaller boy’s cheeks, eliciting a slap to his hand. And so he tells him. He tells him everything, from his interests to his mom’s overbearing nature. He’s not sure why, but he feels a sense of trust with Richie. Like, possibly, they were meant to find each other. To be each other’s lifelines.

“What about you, Rich?”

“Hmm?”

“What. About. You.”

“What about me?” Eddie rolls his eyes at his incompetence.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m not that interesting of a guy, Eds.”

“Now, I know for a fact that isn’t true.” Eddie turns to face Richie, giving him his full attention. For some odd reason, Richie can feel it too, the feeling of trust he’s been searching for. He tells Eddie about his love for doing voices, finding ways to make people laugh. He tells Eddie about his ADHD and his fears of being forgotten and left alone. And Eddie listens, nodding at some parts and encouraging at others. He can tell that Richie really wants to make a good impression, and he wants him to know that he’s doing just that. Richie may be super annoying at times, insufferable at other, but he’s a genuine person, Eddie thinks to himself. He has fears, worries, and insecurities, just like everybody else in the world. He’ll really fit in with us losers, huh.

They two boys continue to talk for awhile after, just trying to get to know each other before finally heading back to Richie’s car to get Eddie back home before his mother starts to worry. When they arrive outside Eddie’s house, there’s a pause. Eddie looks as if he’s debating something when he finally leans over and kisses Richie on the cheek, whispering a goodbye before exiting the car in a rush. He sits for a second before a smile lights up Richie’s face.

Maybe Derry isn’t going to be as bad as I thought it would be.

[beepbeeprichiellc]

Rose Thorns (6/11)

Summary: Richie Tozier and his band find themselves in a once and a life time situation but can Richie step out of his comfort zone to skyrocket the bands chances for success? Eddie Kaspbrak works at the famous Bourbon Room Club and is responsible for the nights entertainment, when a group of misfits audition for him and his boss he finds himself questioning everything he had thought he knew about himself, love and rock and roll.

A/N: I swear there will be more in the next chapter, it'll be more....angsty? I don't know, it'll be good okay? There was more I was going to add but this would have been a looooonnnnggg chapter so I decided to wait and add it to the next one.

Word Count: 1906

Masterlist

Part: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) 6 (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

Eddie groaned as his hand rose to silence the blaring alarm beside him. He rolled over onto his back and huffed, not wanting to be responsible today. There were things to do, bills that needed to be paid and he still needed to verify the headliner for Saturday night’s gig. It was a never ending job and there were moments that he wished he had just stayed as the stage hand rather than hiring Ben. Those moments ended in him scolding himself, admitting that Ben was the best stage hand that the Bourbon Room had ever seen and that included him.

He rose from his comfy bed and headed out of the room, desperate to wash away the lingering sleep from his body. The door opened and he was immediately hit with the smell of cooking bacon that instantly made his stomach growl. Eddie looked down the hall, noticing Beverly behind his stove, pan in hand. Beside her was Stan, instructing her on her form and Bill who looked completely out of place.

“Eddie!” Beverly cried, noticing his groggy form. “Good morning.”

“Morning Bev.” He mumbled, walking into the front room. “What are you guys doing?”

“Well she is trying to make breakfast, I’m making sure she doesn’t burn down the loft and Bill-“Stan paused, looking over to the taller boy and smirking, “Bill is here.”

“H-hey I helped.” Bill protested, huffing as he crossed his arms across his chest.

Stan chuckled, patting the angry loser on his back. “Sure you did, what would we have done if you didn’t crack those eggs? This whole thing would have come to an end.”

Eddie smiled at their banter, “You guys didn’t have do all of this, I normally just grab some coffee on my way to the bank on Wednesdays.”

Beverly waved him off, scoffing. “That is not a proper breakfast! You’re our host, the least we can do is cook for you and Richie can clean up.”

“Fuck. You.” A muffled response came from the lump on the pull out couch. The blankets pulled back, revealing a very aggravated Richie. His mess of curls fell across his face, and he fumbled with the contents of the nightstand before pulling on his glasses. Eddie couldn’t help but admire him, thinking he looked better with glasses rather than contacts.

“We told you to get up and help and you didn’t, so now you’re on dishes.” Stan scorned.

“Bill isn’t fucking helping, all he is doing is standing there!” Richie replied in a disgusted tone. “That’s not fair, DAD!”

“Bill got up, you did not. Maybe next time you should actually go to sleep at a decent time.” The curly haired loser replied, his tone flat and cold.

Richie grumbled something under his breath that Eddie couldn’t make out. The tashmouth rolled out of his bed, finally noticing the smaller boy across from him. Richie smiled, winking. “Morning there Eds, good to see you got some sleep.”

Eddie could feel his ears burn, “Yeah, I guess.” He muttered, awkwardly scratching his chin. There was a moment of silence in the room and Eddie could swear the other loser’s eyes were burning his soft skin. “Right, well I’m going to take a shower.” He finally blurted turning heel and heading towards the bathroom.

“I can join ya if you want Eds.” Richie called after him playfully.

“Stop calling me that.” Eddie hissed, feeling his chest cave in. The door slammed loudly, cutting off the small boy with the rest of the group.  

Bill’s harsh voice followed, “B-beep beep R-Richie.”

Breakfast was quick, the four band members scarfed down the food quickly, none of the remembering the last time their meals hadn’t consisted of greasy fast food. Eddie finally joined them, eating very little compared to the others and assured Beverly that he didn’t need any more every time she badgered him about it.

Once the meal was over Eddie excused himself, explaining that he needed to get ready for the day. Reluctantly Richie began on the dishes, cursing and muttering under his breath the entire time. He was elbow deep in bubbles when the bedroom door opened, revealing the manager of the Bourbon Room. He wore a grey fitted suite that hung tightly against his skin, somehow making him seem taller than he actually was. His purple tie was still undone, loosely dangling across his chest. Riche felt his grip slip on the disses, causing them to crash loudly against one another.

“Hey do any of you know how-“Eddie started, pausing once he noticed everyone’s eyes on him. “What?”

“N-nothing.” Bill jeered, changing the channel of the television. “J-just didn’t know J-James Fucking B-Bond lived here.”

“Yeah you look like a whole different person.” Stan added, chuckling lightly.

Eddie cringed, obviously uncomfortable at the sudden attention. “When I started handling the Bourbon Rooms accounts at the bank Dupree made me buy a suite.” He explained in a rather small voice. “Does it look that stupid?”

“N-no.” Richie blurted a little too loudly. Eddie eyed him for a moment, causing the trashmouth’s blood to pool under his skin. Richie down casted his gaze, pretending to focus on the dirty pan he had been working n.

Beverly walked over to her host and smiled. “You look great Eddie.” She gently cooed, causing Eddie to smile. “What do you need help with?”

“Oh.” Eddie muttered, finally remembering his original problem. “I can never tie this damn thing right, Dupree always hates the way I do it and I was wondering-“

“I’ve got it.” Beverly replied smoothly, stepping close to him and adjusting his tie. Richie felt jealously began to gnaw at his chest at their closeness, suddenly wishing he was the one helping rather than pretty little Beverly. “There.” She smiled, taking a step back.

“Thanks.” Eddie replied, returning her smile. He looked at his watch and frowned. “I’m running late.” He growled, heading towards the front door. “Um, Ben and Mike should be here in a few hours so you guys can rehearse. You’re welcome to stay here until then.”

“You aren’t going to watch us?” Richie asked, trying his best to hide his disappointment.

“I have errands I need to run.” Eddie replied, frowning. “I’ll be out all morning and most of the day.”

“It’s called adulating!” Stan yelled from across the room. “You should ask for lessons Rich.”

“I’ve got to go.” Eddie muttered, rolling his eyes.

Beverly suddenly stepped forward, “Mike and Ben are taking us to Central Park after rehearsal.” She exclaimed quickly, glancing to Richie. “If you can get away we’d love for you to join us.”

Eddie looked confused, as if the offer had been a question. His brows furrowed, and his eyes seemed distant. He remained silent, Beverly’s words hanging in the air like venom. Richie thought of calling out to him when the small boy seemed to snap back into place. “Um yeah, sure. You know if-if I get time.”

He left quickly, not allowing anyone else to get a word in. As the door closed Richie continued to look at where he was, suddenly sadden at the awkward interaction. The room endured silence for a moment, the lingering presence of their host still surrounding them. It was Stan who eventually spoke up.

“Well that was weird.”

Richie dragged his feet, allowing himself to fall behind. The two in front of him exchanged pleasantries and every now and then they would pause to look at the flowers. Ben would mutter something utterly dreamy and Beverly would laugh, the type of laugh Richie only endured when she flirted, and touch his arm. At this point he was sure Ben’s skin would be stained red perennially by the end of the day.

He huffed, feeling annoyed that they were the only ones that would accept his company. “Oh look at these Rich.” Beverly cooed, pointing to the flower. “Lavender, aren’t they beautiful.”

“It’s a plant Bev.” He bit, causing her to scrunch her face in annoyance.

“Lavender holds a sacred place in nature and is often considered the most delicate and precious.” Ben retorted, sounding like a hopeless romantic. “They are one of my favorite.”

“Oh Ben, how do you know so much?” Beverly sighed, smiling towards the stagehand.

Richie felt like he was going to be sick. “How in the hell did I get stuck with you two?” He questioned, not bothering to hide the annoyance that laced itself in his tone.

“Because Bill and Stan wanted to go on look for birds and Mike was making a move on the girl at the ice cream stand.” Beverly snapped, obviously annoyed. “So you came with us and you’re lucky I let you.”  

Richie’s face flustered with bitterness, he opened his mouth to reply to her but Ben beat him to it. “Flowers are actually a lot more interesting than you think Richie, you should give them a chance.”

The trashmouth snorted, “Flowers are so not Rock and Roll haystack.” He replied, feeling his anger rise for the boy who only wanted to keep the peace. “You would never see a band with lavender anywhere near them. No self-respecting artist associates themselves with flowers.”

It had come out harsher than he intended to, immediately wishing the poisoned words back. Ben cringed, looking down at his feet and Richie could see steam coming from Beverly’s ears. The trashmouth groaned, “I’m sorry Ben I didn’t mean-“

“You know, I find Roses very Rock and Roll.” A soft voice spoke from behind.

Beverly’s face light up, “Eddie you made it!” She nearly shouted in excitement. Richie turned to find a still done up manager, his tie hanging loosely form his neck with two of his top buttons undone. He smiled at Richie causing the lanky boys heart to burst in his chest.

“Yeah, I got some free time and thought I’d stop by.” He replied, shrugging. “Hey Ben.” He muttered, half raising his hand towards his employee.

Ben waved back enthusiastically, “Did you really mean that Eddie?” He asked, his words coming out rather nervously.

“Yeah,” he admitted, taking the few remaining strides towards them, stopping just beside Richie. “Roses are the essence of Rock and Roll. Beautiful to look at but those thorns will cut you if you’re not careful.”

Richie’s mouth ran dry, he tried to speak but nothing auditable made it past his lips. There was a moment of silence between them before Eddie cleared his throat. “Hey, why don’t I show Richie some cool places in the park and you two can continue Ben’s tour.”

Ben’s face brightened, he mouthed thank you to his boss which only made Eddie smile. Beverly made some kind of protest, insisting that she wanted to spend time with everyone but Eddie refused. The two shrugged and made promises to meet up later before making their way down the path, leaving Richie with the manager.

“I think you just saved me form a day of third wheeling.” Richie joked as the two were out of ear shot. “I was just about to pull my hair out.”

Eddie shrugged, “I actually was afraid you were going to make Ben cry.”

“Ouch.” Richie replied, smirking.

“Why are you so mean?” The smaller boy joked, turning and began back down the path. “You were right, you are an ass.”  

Richie laughed, following the boy. “Double ouch Eds.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Tags: @deebaddee - @im-not-psychotic- @edspaghetts - @richietoaster @bepbeprichie  - @the-awkward-lettuce-turtle-  @lizwillstealyourgirl

[beepbeepbitchie]

Jealousy Chapter 1

Description: Richie has a crush. A big one. He couldn’t get Eddie out of his head, and it was starting to be a problem, but when some girl decides to ask Eddie out, it becomes an even bigger problem

Word Count: 1196

Richie was staring at Eddie. Again. He couldn’t help it. Eddie looked adorable. He was wearing his red shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, currently ranting about how much bacteria was on a chip that Richie has dared Bill to eat off the floor. Bill, knowing Richie would’ve held it against him if he didn’t, ate the chip. Which led to Eddie lecturing Bill on how gross it was.

Richie sighed deeply, leaning his head on his hand and just watching Eddie’s lips move. He felt Bev elbow him and he turned to her. She just raised her eyebrows, grinning at him. He smacked her arm and shot her a look.

Beverly was the only one who knew about Richie’s crush. They had been smoking together, and Richie just couldn’t help it. Bev kept insisting he tell her which girl he liked. Richie just had to tell her.

Now he just wished she’d stop teasing him about it. Every time he so much as looked at Eddie, there was Bev, grinning or winking at him. He loved her. She made him feel normal. Like his crush wasn’t wrong. So, he always just smiled right back at her.

On this particular day of their freshman year of high school, he was finding himself staring at Eddie even more than usual. He didn’t know why.

He stood up from the table and walked over to Eddie, throwing an arm over his shoulder, “Eddie Spaghetti! The germs aren’t germs aren’t gonna hurt you! I’ll protect you,” Eddie just rolled his eyes, “I told you not to call me that!”

The day went on normally. Nothing much happened, as far as Richie knew. He and Eddie had a sleepover planned for that night and that’s all Richie could think about.

The night finally came and Eddie arrived at Richie’s house. He knocked politely on the door and Richie immediately yanked it open and pulled Eddie into a bear hug, “Eddie spaghetti! Welcome!” Eddie pushed him off, trying his hardest not to smile. “Don’t call me that,” he let a smile slip through, “Trashmouth,”

The boys headed up to Richie’s room and sat on the bed. Richie’s parents weren’t home, so they could be as loud as they wanted. They talked for a while before Richie took Eddie’s hand and kissed it, “I love it when you come over, Eds, you know that?”

Eddie squeaked and blushed, before biting his lip and speaking softly, “there’s something I should probably tell you.” Richie raised his eyebrows, Eddie’s hand still grasped firmly in his own. Richie’s heart began to race. Eddie took a deep breath, “So, basically...” he averted his eyes, and Richie got his hopes up, only to have them come crashing down a moment later, “Betsy asked me out,” Eddie finished, looking at Richie once more.

Richie's heart fell. It fell so far he wasn’t sure if it was still there, “oh...” he whispered. He was trying so hard to hide his disappointment, but he knew it was obvious. Eddie took his hand and Richie’s heart fluttered, “don’t worry. Just because I’m going out with someone doesn’t mean I’m gonna forget about you. You’re my best friend,” Eddie smiled reassuringly at him. Richie smiled right back. That speech helped a bit, but Richie’s heart was still breaking.

The night went on as usual, but Eddie could tell that Richie wasn’t acting like himself. He figured Richie was probably just a still shocked by the news, so he didn’t mention it. Deep down, though, Eddie hoped that maybe Richie was jealous. That maybe he wasn’t scared to be forgotten, but scared that somebody else would be with his Eddie.

Richie’s chest burned at her name. Betsy. A girl in Eddie’s English class. He had seen her around, but never thought very much of her. Now, all he wanted to do was see her disappear. He hated her. He hated that she got to have Eddie. He hated that she took him. He. Hated. Her.

Morning came and Eddie opened his eyes, peering over the side of the bed at Richie. His hair was a wild mess and his blankets were strewn across the floor around him. Eddie let out a quiet giggle and Richie groaned, rolling over to face him. “G’morning,”Eddie whispered, “sleep well?” Richie laughed and nodded. The memories of last night completely forgotten for just a moment. Boy, was that moment sweet, but it all came flooding back a moment later and he buried his face in his pillow once more.

Eddie left early that morning. As soon as he did, Richie picked up the phone and called Bev. It rang a couple times before she answered and she sighed into the phone, “it’s like 9 am, trashmouth, I was sleeping,” Richie tried to say something, but he just let out a loud sob and Bev started sounding more awake, “woah, Rich, what happened? Are you okay?”

Richie started to speak between broken sobs, “Eddie, Eddie, He-,” Richie sobbed and tried again, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, “Somebody asked out Eddie. He said yes.” Richie finally managed to get out. Beverly gasped, “oh no, Richie...” She knew how much this crush meant to him, and hated how torn up he was about this.

Bev wasn’t sure what to say, but she had to say something, “do you remember when Bill and I dated?” She asked, and Richie nodded, before remembering he was on the phone and squeaking out a “yeah...” Bev continued, “Well, at the time Stan had had a huge crush on him. It was obvious, really,” Richie chuckled, remembering how red Stan used to get around Bill. Bev wasn’t done, “Bill and I dated for a couple months, but it didn’t work out, because Bill had finally realized his feelings for Stan. So, if Bill hadn’t dated me, he and Stan might not be so happy together right now. Does that makes sense?”

Richie was starting to feel better now. Bev always knew how to cheer him up, “yeah, it does, Bev. Thank you.” “Of course, Rich. Now, I’m gonna go back to bed,” Richie chuckled, “goodnight, Bev.” Bev just laughed and hung up the phone, leaving Richie to sit with his thoughts for a while.

Beverly had helped give him a bit more hope, but he still felt crummy. He decided to play some video games to try and get his mind off it, so he spent the rest of the day trying to keep his mind of Eddie, and failing miserably.

The losers club were supposed to get together the next day, and Richie just hoped it would all be okay.

[assholetozier]

Safety Embers; Benverly College Au

@forstenbrough @trashmoutheds

"My heart burns there too."

Beverly traces her finger tips over the messy, light writing on the back of an old ass postcard. It was a little worn and tattered from all the years of hauling it around to interviews and tests, practically everywhere she went.

It made her feel safe.

The red haired beauty just started her freshmen year of college and honestly she needs all the help she could get. Her journalism classes were a living Hell, and her psychologies made her want to vomit. All they were doing was writing papers about the American Revolution and Beverly wanted to die.

Her legs dangled on the counter in the kitchen, in the same apartment her, Richie and Mike split. They all made the agreement to live together after all of them ended up on the same campus that year. Bill, Ben, Stan and Eddie were in the same city just studying elsewhere so it only made sense.

Smoke peered out of her lips and she groans, throwing her pencil across the room. Her phone went off, symbolizing another class project was posted online.

"My students! My apologies for the late posting, but I didn't give you an assignment today so it only seems fair!"

Eye roll.

"Your project is more creative. You are going to write or create something for a loved one. No format. Whatever you feel in your heart. It needs to express some type of emotion and make me feel something. This is worth fifty percent of your grade, and you have a week. BEGIN!"

She bangs her fist against the silver stove, "JESUS FUCK!"

Who was she even supposed to write to? She could write to Richie, who had been her best friend for a long time and kept her on her toes. But that felt wrong.

Bill, her technical ex boyfriend. They dated in high school for a month, a fake relationship to get Stan jealous and crawl into Bill's arms. Beverly was happy to help, and he always was her rock of sorts. But that felt wrong.

Mike, her BROTHER in her heart who taught her the beauties of the world and showed her the starts (literally taught her the constellations) and always welcomed her with open arms and a smile, she could write for him. Again.. weird.

Maybe Eddie, the only "mother" she's ever had, which is very ironic on multiple levels. He's always checking up on her, taking care of her when she's sick, being her only sort of "girl" friend. They fought once because he thought her and Richie were dating sopmore year and ever since they'd been close. She couldn't write for him.

Stan, who was so incredibly smart and kept her organised, probably the only reason she graduated. He also hated her once while her and Bill "dated", and now she tell him everything and in return he tells her everything. No. WRONG.

That left Ben. The guy that saved her from the CLOWN. The guy that was always peering at her down the hall and in all buying her the coffee beans she likes, that you have to order from Miami and cost like fifty bucks a pound. The guy that makes her smile so bright that it makes her mouth hurt. The guy that applied to college in Washington because she, Richie, Mike and what ended up to be all of the Losers did.

The guy that makes her feel the most safe. She couldn't write to him- but why?

"Because he'd laugh at my writing-" Beverly says as the front door opens.

Mike strode into the room carrying a few grocery bags and textbooks, a look of curiosity on his face.

"Who would laugh?"

She feels her teeth hug her lips roughly. Mike wouldn't tell Ben, she knew that. But at the same time... wouldn't he?

"Nobody," the red head snaps. "M' talking about this guy in my psych class, he would laugh at my final report."

The dark skinned boy smiles, dimples forming in cheeks and suddenly he starts laughing.

"What's so funny-"

"You! I'm not dumb, Richie told me about that assignment, he texted me he was going to pour his heart out to Eddie since their anniversary is in a month."

Beverly frowns, "What does that have to do with me?"

He smiles, "I know you, Bev. And I know about you and your feelings. I heard you on the phone with Eddie last night."

"Oh so you're stalking my conversations now?"

"Worry about that later! He's been waiting for you for years so what the hell is your problem?"

Mike was probably right. What was her problem? There was nothing wrong with this... right?

"Have you read any of his poetry! It's beautiful! It is so heartwarming that I CRY thinking about the fact that I can't listen to his thoughts and see all of his muses! His hands are soft and he always lets me borrow his sweatshirts even when he's only wearing a tank top under them because he is too FUCKING sweet! He smells like cherries and lemons and his hands are so soft. Almost softer than his words. How can I write him how I feel when I don't even know?"

She released a sob she'd been holding for months, Mike immediately wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back.

"Hey hey shhh... it's gonna be okay, Ben loves you."

Beverly sighs, "I'm not enough for him, Mike. I'm a mess."

They sit there what feels like hours, even though she knows it's only been like five minutes. Mike slows her breath and she begins to calm down.

"It's a creative assignment."

"Hmm?"

The boy releases her, smiling wide and proud, "it's a creative assignment! You don't even have to write anything! Fuck, if you wanted to you could use magazine cut outs to describe your thoughts-"

They slowly make eye contact, the red head coming to the realization of what the other said. He was right it was a CREATIVE assignment, no ten page papers on dumb shit from the eighteen forties. It was all her. And if she didn't have to write her words the better.

"Do we still have that collection of magazines in the laundry room?"

***

It took all night, but she finally realized what she wanted and made it happen. Her and Mike dug through several magazines, from sex advice to food to teenage girl dressing issues. She needed all of it.

Beverly decided on a poem, because that was how he communicated his feelings with her over the years and now that she knew hers she could return the favor. There were pictures too, though, like pictures of coffee cups and baseball bats and books. All the things they liked together.

She glued the last word on the large, thick poster paper they found under Richie's bed (along some other questionable things she was going to ask Eddie about later) and sighed. This was it.

"He has to see it." She says, smiling and her hands shaking in anxiety.

Mike nods, "I'll take you to their place tomorrow, I have to go to drop off Stan's notes from math-"

"No. NOW."

He sighs, "Bev, it is three in the morning."

Her red curls bounce as she jumps out of her seat, "does it look like I give a shit? C'mon now or never!"

So they get in Mike's car and he drives as fast as he can and the whole time she is either screaming in her head or out of the window. She's finally doing it.

They pull up in the driveway of the duplex the boys live in, and while Mike begins to get out she is glued to the seat.

He notices and walks over to her side, opening her door. She still refuses to get out.

"You've got this-"

"What if he's over me? Or if he is done with me taking so long? Any girl would be lucky to have him ya know."

Mike nods, "and the only one he sees is you."

She smiles and takes his hand up, running to the front door and slamming on it with her palm. After a few bangs, she saw the living room light come on and the door open.

It was Ben, in a sweatshirt and pants, an open copy of How To Kill A Mockingbird in his left hand while the right help open the door. He had grown taller, and he started playing a few sports and building plenty in high school so a majority of his chubby went away but he was still stocky. He was wearing his glasses.

"Hello I-" his speach faltered before smiling. "Hey Bev... Mike, what's up?"

Beverly began breathing heavily, chest heaving and curls shaking in the wind. Words began to form but wouldn't come out of her throat.

Mike coughs, "Can we come in? We have a surprise for you."

Ben leaded them in, to where Mike proceeded to the restroom, not before winking at Beverly and gave her a thumbs up.

The boy in the room smiled again, "are you okay? Richie is in Eddie's room, if that's-"

"I came to see you, you goof." A blush arose on her cheeks.

She began to unroll the poster in her hand that had went unnoticed until that moment. It was crumpled from her squeezing it.

"W-what's that?"

Beverly smiles, "I made this for you. It's a... token of my affection." She winks for good measure.

Taking the paper from her hands, he looks over it. No look on his face.

The poem reads;

My heart is at home, safe

Safe in your words

In your arms

In your miles and miles of comfort

In your sweatshirts

And in you.

You keep me safe

Something I never knew could happen

It's a feeling I'm not used to

But yet, here I am addicted like a heroin addict

This was cheesy yes I know

But cheese is hot, and so is your safety

And my heart burns there too.

Ben stared at the paper, mouthing the words and refusing to look at the red head.

"It's stupid isn't it?" Beverly sighs, grabbing a cigarette from her pocket.

"I'm sorry, Ben, it's not-"

A tear rolled from under his frames that covered his eyes.

He stayed silent for a moment, thinking.

"Oh fuck it," he mutters before striding over to her, pulling the cigarette from her mouth and kissing her.

The kiss was soft, slow, and sweet. He tasted like coffee, and she tasted like cigarettes but they loved it. It tastes them.

Ben pulled away first, "what took you so long?"

"I didn't realize why my heart was burning and why you made me feel so safe."

They sit there in each other's arms, in the silence.

"That was the most beautiful thing I've ever read, Bev."

"Impossible, you go to the library every day."

He nods, "yeah, but nothing will ever be as beautiful to me as your heart. As you."

~~~~~

A/N: That was it!!! Thank you @forstenbrough for the prompt I really appreciate it! I'm sorry if it wasn't good but this was my first Benverly fic. If you have any requests my asks are always open!!!

[thewisebyers]

idwk by milkk

Stozier. Sometimes opposites attract and sometimes they tore each other apart. Stan really did love Richie and Richie loved Stan. But the happy moments faded into constant arguing. Constant accusing. Richie’s constant drug use. Stan thought he could help but he couldn’t without tearing himself apart. It was when Richie’s fist collided against a wall, far from Stan because he would never hurt his beautiful boy, that Stan decided enough was enough. He was over it. He loved Richie but he had to do what was best for him. He needed to get out of this unhealthy environment. So he packed a suitcase, saying he would be back for his other things, and left for Bill’s house. It felt like a slap in Richie’s face that Stan chose to go to Bill, his ex-lover.

[itcouldwaysbestranger]

The Moment

AKA when Richie first realizes he has a big fat crush on his best friend.

Eddie was adorable. His doe brown eyes were always sparkling with some sort of adorable emotions. His cheeks were always flushed slightly pink with shock at some stupid thing Richie had just said. And he had dozens of tiny adorable freckles creating tiny adorable constellations on his tiny adorable face. Over the past two years Eddie had stopped gelling his hair, and now the chocolate brown hair fell in soft waves over the front of his forehead and around his adorable little ears.

And as Eddie’s best friend, Richie probably shouldn’t enjoy looking at Eddie’s adorable little face as much as he did. But he did. And he didn’t see why that was an issue! Lots of people like looking at other people. And it’s not like Eddie was the ONLY person he ever looked at. He wasn’t fucking blind! Okay... he was a little blind, but the glasses helped.

Richie looked at Beverly. She was beautiful in a bloody knuckles and fire behind the eyes way. Richie looked at Ben. He was the softest sort of handsome in existence. Richie looked at Mike. Mike was handsome in a strong movie actor kind of way. His smile was enough to melt anyone’s heart. Richie looked at Stan. His beauty stemmed from grace and poise. He seemed regal. Richie looked at Bill. Bill’s beauty came not only from his obviously handsome face, but from how much he cared about everything.

So Richie figured it was fine that he looked. Because Richie looked at everyone. It couldn’t be that bad that Eddie was his favorite to look at. Right? ....right?

“So, then, the bird attacked Bill! I got the best photos of it nesting in his hair.”

Richie snapped out of his conflicted thoughts as Bev judged him. Stan has been rambling about his birdwatching weekend. Richie felt kind of guilty... it wasn’t often Stan got this excited about anything. He should have been listening. He looked up and assessed the situation.

Bill was rubbing at the (now scarred) scratches on his forehead. He didn’t seem upset, time spent with Stan was time spent with Stan. Angry birds or not.

Richie turned to Beverly, she smiled at him. The wind blew her scent of sweet perfume and artificial cherry and tobacco.

“Have you been smoking without me?”

“Just testing a new flavor. Didn’t bother inviting you, since you refuse to try anything but bubblegum.”

“If it ain’t broke don’t fix it, Bevvie!” Richie chuckled flashing his own pack.

Richie was thankful she neglected to mention the fact that Richie hadn’t smoked with her in weeks. Every time he did Eddie was up his ass. “Cigarettes take seven minutes off your life, Trashmouth.” It didn’t used to get to him but recently... whatever. He was trying to quit, alright? No big deal.

“Have you seen Ben?” Mike asked rummaging through his backpack. “I have to return the book he let me borrow.”

Beverly shook her head. “Haven’t seen ‘im”

“You keep such terrible tabs on your boyfriend.” Richie chuckled.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Beverly flushed.

“Yet.” Richie nudged her. She shoved his shoulder and looked away, suddenly very focused on the flag post.

“Eddie and Ben were studying.” Stan said over his shoulder.

Bill’s smile suddenly widened. “Spuh-spuh-speak of the duh-d-devil.”

Richie looked away from Beverly and immediately he felt his heart swell two sizes. Eddie was carrying a large stack of books. How he could even see over them was lost to Richie. And he looked impossibly adorable as he wobbled, trying to support their weight.

“Eddie, are you sure you don’t want me to carry some of those?” Ben asked.

“No, it’s fine.“

Ben shrugged and went to sit next to Beverly, a seat was open anyways as Richie was on his feet before he even realized what he was doing.

“Edward Spaghetward!” He greeted happily.

Eddie grunted under the weight of the books. He plunked them down on the table. “Don’t call me that ever again.” Eddie frowned. Richie didn’t miss the happy sparkle in his eyes.

“That’s, cute. You know this only fuels the fire, babe.” He reached out and pinched Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie shoved Richie’s hand away and groaned. Despite this, he was grinning. Richie noticed... Richie always noticed when he could make Eddie smile. Had Eddie’s smile always seemed like it was brighter than the sun? Probably.

“Does anyone want gum?” Ben called.

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Ooh! Me!”

Richie watched, mesmerized as Eddie chewed for a few moments then began to blow a bubble.

He looked so... Eddie. So cute.

“Some people consider staring rude, Rich.” Eddie said without looking away from his book.

Richie’s heart swelled even more and he was certain he turned red. How big could his heart get? Would it pop eventually?

“Can’t help it, Ed’s. You’re just so cute!” He pinched Eddie’s cheek again.

“Don’t call me that, Dumbass.” Eddie swatted Richie’s hand away. But then he leaned into Richie so that their shoulders were touching. Neither of them moved away.

Gosh, Richie loved that. Richie loved Eddie in general but-

Oh shit.

Richie loved Eddie.

Shit.

[thederrylcsers]

Oblivion

Pairing: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris

Summary: Stan receives a message from Bill Denbrough who invites him to a party and, again, questions his own judgment.

Chapters: 2/? (you can read chapter one here)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3424

Two weeks pass without Stan noticing and it's Friday. He tended to like Friday's more than any other because he only had two classes. It meant that when he left his last class of the day, he could head back to his dorm and get a jump on the homework assigned to him over the weekend. The perfect setup.

Stan was in his second and last class of the day when his phone vibrated against the side of his thigh. He'd been startled but ultimately chose to ignore it, more focused on what his professor was saying than checking it. As he sat in his chair his curiosity was peaking, his finger tapping restlessly against the small wooden table that his laptop was resting on. He chewed on his bottom lip wondering what it was. He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, turning the screen on and he thought he had a heart attack upon seeing the notifications on the screen.

Instagram: billdenbrough sent you a message

Stan stared at the screen until it timed out, confused and intrigued. He tried not to let his thoughts run out of control but it was hard to stop his train of thought once it got moving. What did he say? How did he find me? He curses under his breath and shakes his head, blinking a few times, as if that would help him clear his mind, and desperately tried to focus on the lesson but that was easier said than done. He slid the handheld device back into his pocket. He began to play with his fingers, picking at his nails in the last ditch effort to distract himself from the urge to open the message.

The next thing he noticed was that the rest of the class was packing up and leaving the lecture hall. Stan mentally kicked himself for missing the remainder of the lesson and he resisted the urge to reach back into his pocket to retrieve it, pulling the screen of his laptop to meet the keyboard and shoved it into his bag, slinging the straps over his shoulders and walking out of the row, down the steps to the exit doors. When he gets outside he exhaled a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

He started walking, staring down at his feet as he made his way toward the building where Eddie's class should have been getting out. When he arrived, he stood at the end of the concrete stairs and waited for Eddie to come bounding down the stairs. The doors flew open seconds after Stan arrived and the students filed out of the building in small groups until he spotted Eddie walking with Richie who now wore a pair of glasses with oddly thick lenses. He smiled down at Eddie and laughed, lips moving but they were too far away for Stan to hear him, not that Stan wanted to.

Richie had been walking Eddie out for a week and a half and Stan had grown to know just what a conversation with him may consist of, usually jokes that were either offensive or crude, or both, and he was more at ease being distanced from him. Eddie spotted Stan at the bottom of the steps and waved while walking down the steps. "Hey." Stan smiled in return as Richie came up behind Eddie and leaned against the stair railing.

"Stan the man, how's it been? Get any fun messages today?" He smiled innocently and wrapped his arm around Eddie's shoulders. Despite his need for space away from others, Eddie didn't try to shove him away. Stan glared up at Richie.

"What are you talking about?"

"Big Bill, Stanley." Stan cringed at the nickname used for Bill and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm not sure how but, yeah, I did." Richie was smirking somewhat victoriously and it confused Stan even more than the message itself. It also annoyed him. "Why are you smirking?"

"I'm the reason he messaged you! They call me Cupid, ya know." Richie said with the same satisfied smirk on his lips. Stan felt like he could punch him then but decided to go with his better judgment.

"Why the fuck would you tell him to message me? And how did he even find me? I never told him my name." Stan asked, noticeably irritated.

"He asked me for your name after the party, and then did some searching or some shit and found you. As far as me telling him to go for it, I don't know, I think you two would hit it off. He gets a bad rap." Richie explained and Eddie removed his arm from around his shoulders while watching the situation unfold before him, stepping down to meet Stan at the bottom of the steps.

"I'm sure," Stan replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "If I wanted to talk to him, I would have given him my phone number." He moved around Eddie to continue walking down the street, shaking his head as he did. Eddie looked over in Richie's direction apologetically although he did know how Stan felt. He quickly caught up with Stan, the two of them walking in silence until Eddie decided to break it.

"So, what did it say?" Stan looked up, a pout prominent on his face.

"What?"

"The message." Eddie clarified and Stan looked back down at his shoes.

"Oh. I haven't opened it yet." Stan uncrossed his arms and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Eddie looked up toward the sky, noticing the light clouds above them. Suddenly he was wanting to get back to their dorms as soon as they could. The last thing he needed was to be sick because they were stuck in the rain.

"Why not?" Stan shrugged next to him, not quite knowing why he hadn't bothered to look at the message. Perhaps it was the constant gnawing worry of what it might say. The possibilities of its contents, as far as he knew, could have ranged from a simple hey to a crude photo of a certain body part and he definitely did not want to open it to find Bill's on his screen. The chances of that actually happening were probably slim but he really didn't want to take any chances.

"He's not my type," Stan replied, turning the corner and spotting their residence.

"If he isn't then what is your type, Stanley? Even back home you never made any attempt to date." Eddie probably looked confused but Stan didn't look away from his feet.

"Derry was different. It's full of homophobic assholes. There was no way to tell who was serious and who wanted to throw you into the Canal. And my type is someone who does not sleep with anyone with a pulse, and that rules out Bill Denbrough." Stan thought about the possibility that maybe he was being too harsh without knowing Bill, but the photos on his Instagram said more than any story he had heard.

"I don't know, Stan. Maybe he isn't as bad as you think." When they reach the front doors of the designated building, Stan is silent with his hand resting on the handle and looking directly in front of himself. "Just open the message. If he sent a dick pic or some shit like that, don't respond but if he genuinely wants to start a conversation, reply and see where it goes. Who knows, you might end up with a friend." Eddie smiled even though Stan didn't see it, feeling somewhat relieved when he finally pulled the door open and they walked inside the building. The ride up to their floor was accompanied by more silence, only this time Stan is the one to break it.

"Okay." He said and as if on cue the elevator doors pry themselves open and Stan steps out, walking down the hall toward his room. Eddie is left standing in the elevator feeling somewhat prideful knowing that he got the stubborn Stanley Uris to crack.

Back at his dorm, Stan is met by Mike who is laying horizontally across the sofa in their room, flipping through channels on the TV set that he had brought with him. Stan removes his bag from his shoulders and sets it next to the entryway, meeting Mike in the small living area. He slouches in the chair adjacent to the sofa, knowing that it was bad for his posture but not caring much about that then. He was pouting, thinking of the many scenarios that could take place by opening this message, but he finds the words to start up a conversation.

"Don't you have classes?" He didn't mean for it to come out the way that it did but Mike still finds humor in the question, chuckling shamelessly.

"Yeah, but my classes got out early today." He sits up and wandered toward the mini-fridge they have set up against the wall strip between their bedrooms, pulling out a yogurt cup. "What 'bout you? Why are you home so early?"

"It's Friday," Stan stated just before sighing. Mike came back over, yogurt in hand with a spoon dipped into it, sitting back down on the couch.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's been a weird half hour." He replied, sitting up comfortably with his back arched ever so slightly away from the back of the chair, handing teaching down into his pocket, fingers drumming against his phone. He stands up and walks back over to the door, picking up his bag and heading into his room. He hangs his bag in the back of his desk chair and pulls his phone out from his pocket, trying not to bite his nails as he turns the screen on, staring at the message.

It seemed to scream open me! open me! but Stan still felt queasy thinking about it. He considers just deleting the notification and forgetting about having seen them but he knew that it would still eat at him and that deleting the notification wouldn't delete the message itself. He also knew he was being a bit crazy over a message that probably meant nothing to the sender. Why is it so difficult for me to open them?

Stan decides fuck it and clicks the notification and types in his passcode. When his phone is unlocked he is faced with the message and wonders what he was so afraid of.

billdenbrough: hey (:

Stan let out a sigh of relief, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of his chest. He pressed the message, rereading it a few times before sending back his hesitant reply.

stanley.uris: Hi

He closes the chat and shuts off his phone screen, sitting on the edge of his bed, startled when his phone goes off again not even 30 seconds later.

billdenbrough: how are u

stanley.uris: Fine. stanley.uris: How are you?

billdenbrough: better now that i'm

talking to u ;)

Stan rolled his eyes but his heart still fluttered. He had never flirted before or been on the receiving end of flirtatious remarks until he started college and both times they were from Bill. He knew he shouldn't feel like he did because of Bill's nature but he couldn't really help it.

stanley.uris: Very original.

billdenbrough: i thought so

They text back and forth like this for a solid hour and Stan decided it was time to start on his work. He opens his bag to retrieve his laptop, setting it down at the edge of his desk along with a notebook, an array of colored pens and highlighters. Studying tended to calm his nerves whenever he felt overwhelmed. He went about fifteen minutes without any interruptions, that is until his phone vibrated on his desk and he was forced to break concentration.

billdenbrough: my friend's sorority is having a party tonight, u should come

At that moment he is interrupted yet again by knocking on the door to the dorm. He stood from his desk and opened the door to his room, seeing that Mike beat him to answer the door. Eddie stood at the door, having a friendly conversation with Mike in the entry. They turned toward him and Eddie smiled enthusiastically, bag slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, I thought we could study?" He asked, holding onto the strap of his backpack and smiling when Stan nodded with a small smile on his own face. The other teen stepped into the dorm and walked the small distance into Stan's room and Stan shut the door behind him. "What are you working on?" Eddie asked, sitting down on Stan's bed while the latter stared off into space, reaching in front of him to grasp the back of the chair to sit in it. Eddie noticed he looked dismissed but chose not to say anything until he snapped himself out of his trance-like state.

Stan refocused his gaze, blinking twice before glanced by over in Eddie's direction. "Sorry. Bill invited me to a party." He said, turning back to face his laptop screen but stopping halfway when Eddie began talking again.

"Woah, wait! Did you say yes?"

"I just opened the message. I didn't reply." Eddie glared at him, mouth open in an 'o' before he was struck with a realization.

"Oh, I get it. You're going for mysterious? Good. Are you gonna go?" Eddie kicked his shoes off, standing up and placing them against the wall next to the door. He went back over to the bed, pulling his legs up with him, his jeans making it slightly harder for him to cross them but he managed to do so anyway.

"Maybe." Stan replied, playing with his hands, not really wanting to be apart of the conversation.

"Come on, Stan! He technically asked you out on a date."

"A party isn't much of a date." Stan stared.

"That's because you have high standards." Eddie tossed his bag to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll be there too, if that helps."

"Is Richie going to be there?" Eddie nodded making Stan roll his eyes. "Great. You will go off with Richie and I will be left alone. Again."

"But if it is a date, you'll have some company." Eddie winked, opening his backpack and pulling out the textbook titled 'Business Management' and flipped it open to the correct page. Stan shrugged, tilting his head to the side. The thought of going to another party for someone else's pleasure made him want to stay home, even more so because he knew Bill would be there. Don't get Stan wrong, Bill was attractive, there was no denying that, but he couldn't let himself get involved with him.

As he thought of this, another thought entered his head, making him question his judgement. What if they're just rumors? Maybe Richie was right. Just as the thought is over his phone vibrated again, another message from Bill.

billdenbrough: come on, don't leave me hanging, uris. it'll be fun!

Stan stares at the message, half offended that somebody who barely knew him had called him by only his last name, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. He looked over at Eddie, who had his face buried two hundred pages into his textbook while writing down valuable information as he skimmed the pages, then looked back to his phone with Eddie's words ringing in his head.

"But if it is a date, you'll have some company."

He thinks over the many, many possible outcomes of this night and while guy screamed no, he went against his better judgement and sided with the devil on his shoulder.

stanley.uris: Okay, I'll be there.

He sends the message, sighing deeply and running the palms of his hands over the dark cloth of his pants. Eddie looks up from his studies and asks, "So, what's the verdict?" Stan looks over at him once again and nods hesitantly.

"I'm going." Eddie's eyes grew wide with excitement, hands clasping together and gasping as if about to commence a musical number before his eyes.

"That's great! What're you gonna wear?" Stan squinted, not sure what was wrong with what he currently had on. He was still clad in a black Columbia fleece jacket, another knit sweater (only this time it was tan) underneath that, a pair of blue skinny jeans and his Converse.

"What's wrong with this?"

"We can't have this conversation again, Stanley. Those are not party clothes. Why not wear a collared polo or a plain t-shirt? Something that doesn't say 'I spend all of my free-time at the library'." Eddie quipped, uncrossing his legs and sliding off the bed to walk toward Stan's closet. Stan was taken back by the comment, surprised. Eddie had changed slightly since they began attending college, not necessarily in a bad way, but he became more free without Sonia breathing down his neck every second of every day. With the lack of parental authority, he was more loose, which was more than Stan could say for himself but that was part of his character.

"What about one of these?" Eddie asked, pulling a plain black t-shirt from the closet along with a fade red polo. Stan wanted to reach for the polo since it was what he was used to and what he felt most comfortable with but the days events had proven that getting out of his comfort zone just slightly might have been what he needed.

"Black." He said, phone vibrating next to him again.

billdenbrough: great, alpha sigma house at seven. see u there ;)

He looked up into the top left hand corner of his phone screen noticing that it was only 4:06 PM. They definitely had some time to kill. They spend the rest of their time studying and cracking subtle jokes while Eddie gushed over the lanky, curly-haired, Hawaiian shirt wearing mess that was Richie Tozier.

Twenty minutes till seven, Eddie is forced to leave the room while Stan changes out of his sweater and undershirt, pulling in a fresh new item of clothing and grabbing his Columbia, meeting Eddie outside of his door. They begin to head toward the door when Stan stops, turning toward the couch where Mike still was, this time sitting upright and watching a home & garden network.

"Would you want to come with us, Mike?" He asks, eyes wide and hopeful. The truth was, he did enjoy Mike and living with him, and if he could come along it would have amazing. Not to mention that if Eddie did abandon him at the party and it was not, in fact, a date, he would have someone else to talk to while he waited for Eddie to detach himself from Richie's hip.

"Really? Uh, yeah, sure. Let me just go grab a jacket and some shoes." Mike beamed and Stan felt more comfortable already, knowing that there would at least one more familiar face at this party. He headed into his room to retrieve said items while Eddie's face lit up as well.

"Maybe I should invite Ben, too! I don't really know if parties are his thing but it's worth a shot to try and hang out somewhere outside of the dorm." He said and Stan smiled a tight-lipped smile. He didn't know Ben all too well given that he wasn't his roommate and going to party with another person he didn't know felt uncomfortable. Then, thinking of Eddie, he had invited Mike along and the former barely knew him as well.

"Yeah, invite him. I'm sure he would like to get out too." His smile was less harsh now and Mike met them at the door seconds later where he was informed of the change of events.

"Well, the more the merrier, right?" He said and laughed. He was always happy and Stan didn't get how. They reach Eddie's room soon and are met with Ben at the door, a hamper full of dirty laundry, appearing to be headed down to the washroom. He smiled at the three of them. Eddie filled Ben in on the current situation to which he looked enthused.

"I'll go, definitely! I was planning on spending my night sorting dirty laundry but this sounds infinitely better." Ben said, obviously thrilled by the invite. He looked down at his attire, sweatpants and a tight-fitting hoodie and decided a quick change of clothes wouldn't be the worst thing and then they would be on their way.

Let me know if you would be interested in being in a taglist for this!

[trashmoutheds]

Stanley Uris Takes a Bath

Pairings: Bill Denbrough x Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak, Ben Hanscom x Beverly Marsh

Warnings: homophobic slurs, swearing, suicide, funeral, major character death

a/n: i had something way sadder and better written than this but tumblr deleted it (fuck you tumblr) so take this garbage instead

masterlist

Mike had an arm around Bill’s shoulders, Beverly’s head resting on his bicep while Ben’s hand lightly gripped her waist. Richie and Eddie sat cuddled, Eddie’s head buried into the crook of Richie’s shoulder as tears leaked furiously from his eyes. Bill and Richie held hands over Mike’s legs, keeping them all linked together.

Nothing felt real to Bill, his head swirled under the weight of his own thoughts, his own

do you want me to run you a bath, stan

guilt. He was drowning - perhaps, as if in a bathtub. 

His heart gave a dull throb under thick layers of clothing, and he blamed the tie for the restriction of his breathing. The limbs tangled around his body seemed to be the only thing keeping him together and, if he squeezed his eyes shut tight enough, he could almost imagine the sweet scent of Beverly and strong arm of Mike was Stanley - except, it wasn’t.

Stan was still lying alone, dressed in all white. His hair was styled in a way Bill knew he wouldn’t like, but Bill couldn’t argue about it because everytime he opened his mouth, the bubble in his throat swelled.

It wasn’t as if Bill had known of Stan’s pain

a bath will calm you down

but that didn’t stop the ache from spreading, seeping between the divots of his ribs. From two rows ahead, Donald Uris - aged now, with gray hair covering his head and chin - twisted slightly to glare at Bill and the losers. The man’s wrinkles deepened, along with his frown and the knit of his brows just as his eyes glistened with the tears shed of the demise of his only son - only child.

Bill stared back at him, no heat in his eyes - gaze almost soft, really. And, the longer he stared, the heavier his soul felt. Donald Uris, even now - fueled with anger and hatred - looked nearly identical to his son.

“It’s not him, big Bill.” Mike spoke quietly into his ear, as if reading his mind, “The longer you look, the more you’re hurting yourself.”

Bill’s lip quivered, eyes blurring with a sudden rush of tears. He gripped Richie’s hand tightly. Pressure welled behind his cheekbones, burning his nose and eyes - his skull felt like a ticking time bomb,

“I’ll never see him grow old,” Bill didn’t bother to keep his voice low, “He will never have a family or anything because

just take a bath

of me!”

The bubble in his throat burst, releasing a painful cry. Bill fell slack against Beverly, his head falling against her bright red hair. The rabbi stopped speaking, but Bill hadn’t really noticed when he’d began, as everyone turned. None of the eyes held even the slightest bit of sympathy - not for the gay boy.

Mike’s fingers dragged circles into Bill’s shoulder in attempt to soothe him, “It’s not your fault. Stan wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

Bill’s ears fell deaf at the name, the way it naturally rolled off of Mike’s tongue - just as it did with all the others. Richie’s fingers had gone completely white, but he gripped Bill’s hand back with nearly just as much force. Ben reached around Beverly to lay a hand on Bill’s knee, which Bill didn’t realize had began to shake rapidly.

take a bath take a bath

The rabbi hesitantly started to speak again, but Bill couldn’t take it anymore. He scrambled to his feet, pushing away from his friends and ignoring Eddie’s small fist clutching the back of his shirt. He stumbled all the way to the casket - solid wood and plain - only stopping as his fingers curled over the side of it.

Richie followed behind him, gently grabbing at his arm to pull him back, but Bill didn’t budge. Mike was trailing closely as well, but made no movement to stop Bill. At Richie’s confused look, Mike mouthed one word.

‘Closure.’

c’mon stanley, baby, just take a bath

Eddie had found his way into Beverly’s arms as she laid in Ben’s - all three crying for the loss of one friend and the mourning of another.

Bill’s hand, trembling violently, stretched to touch Stan’s curls one last time. He winced the feeling of the gel caked between the strands.

“He would hate this,” said Bill, more to himself. He looked down at Stan’s attire, the traditional white outfit - and, although Stan was a pretty religious person, he still wouldn’t have liked it. Then, in a louder voice: “He would hate all of this!”

Bill slammed his hands down onto the side of the casket, cheeks soaked with streaming tears. A small round of screams echoed around the room, paired with a collective mass of gasps.

“Stan hates the color white - it makes his skin look dull and he doesn’t like the way suits fit him! He would be wearing his sweater - his favorite blue sweater, the one with the little bird on it - and he would make sure to wear his matching socks with it,” Mike decided to take a step forward, swallowing down his own tears, “and he f-fucking hates hair gel because it makes his hair greasy and he can’t run his fingers through it!  He showers twice a day just to keep his hair clean, he can’t stand feeling dirty - he would hate everything - he-”

Richie caught Bill while he crumpled to the floor, sobbing into his hair as they sat. Mike kneeled next them, curling his arms around their bodies in a warm hug. Everyone stared, all in shock, most in disgust.

Andrea Uris hunched over in her seat, loud sobs raking her body. Donald, on the other hand, remained enraged.

“Get away from him!” The man demanded, jumping to his feet, “Get out of here, you killed him - you

takeabathtakeabathtakeabath

killed my boy, my only son! My only child! You-you

do you want me to run it for you

worthless little faggot!”

At this, Andrea’s cries worsened. Whispers spread around the room like a wildfire, becoming only more and more rambunctious as Eddie rushed to the front and weaseled himself under Mike’s arm - followed by Beverly and then Ben.

And, as they all linked together - truly connected - it seemed a weight was lifted from all of them.

“We’re all okay,” Mike said in a shaky voice, stepping in as temporary leader, “Stan’s not gone - not really. As long as we’re together, he’s here.”

“Get

just take a bath, stan

out, you freaks!”

Bill clutched at his own chest, as if trying to reach in and grasp the pulsing ache. His nails dug into the wrinkled cloth, threatening to pierce the skin, and he choked as a warm soothed over his own. The hand was warm and familiar - and, although Bill couldn’t see whose it was through the thick blanket of tears wedged between his eyelids and eyes, it comforted him. 

Another hand brushed through his hair, and another slipped around his waist. Richie’s face had burrowed into the crook of Bill’s neck, and he nearly sat in Mike’s lap as the latter rested his forehead on Bill’s temple. 

“We’re all Stan, piece-by-piece we make him up.” continued the boy, lips barely brushing against Bill’s ear, “No one let him down or hurt him.”

i’ll be here when you get out

And, Bill was there. 

But, Stan never got out.

–

tag list: @kaspbrakstrashmouth @swiffybird @prettyblossoms @couldbemimi @of-outerspace @stanleyurisisalive @eddie-kaspjack @missdenise4 @lukemybieber @glitchy-jack @that70skiwi @eddies-spaghetti @areyareddie @giraffeattack21 @pennywisethedancingmistake @r-u-reddie @hallmarkhanlon @80soleff @leighbetht2ou @theperksofbeingawallflwer @sleepybeverlymarsh @richie-n-eds @whipashwhipash @trxshmouth-t0zier @eddiekaspbraklives @rainy-kaspbrak

[tozierkasqbrak]

Earned It

for @yalocalemo for the IT Secret Santa!

Bill finds out about Stan’s secret pastime and likes it. Maybe a bit too much (sorry there’s just a lil bit of kaspborough, it needed a bit of hurt near the end. it’s just a smidge)

“You know, if you really listened, Stanny Boy-”

“Shut UP Richie! I don’t need to hear about what Eddie said that made everyone laugh. He does enough talking here, and you do more than enough.” Stan groans, falling onto his bed. “Just take me to the building and I can hitch a ride home for Bev, okay?” Richie mutters under his breath about Stan being a prude but takes Stan to the address on the phone, not questioning it. The night was just starting, teens finding their ways to parties and getting into mischief, while Stan prefered to stay in and do what he adored most.

Dance.

The studio was empty, just as he liked it. It was in pristine condition, all the dancers that once inhabited it leaving for the day to go home to their familial lives. Stan sets down his bag, slowly pulling off his street clothes until he was in a pair of tight high-waisted shorts he snagged from Eddie when he wasn’t looking (all with the promise of “I’ll give them back when i can’t wear them anymore! It’ll be two weeks, three tops!” and it’s been three and a half months since that promise- Eddie hasn’t asked for them back) and a thin shirt that draped off the shoulders of one Beverly Marsh, her throwing it at him when he complained about needing a sleep shirt when he had stayed over at her house with the losers. (“It looks cute on me, so it’ll look even cuter on you!” Beverly shouted at him, letting him change and let everyone’s mouths drop slightly at the sight of someone usually so proper be dressed in that fashion) He starts with a few basic stretches, giving a chance for his tired bones to wake up and prepare for the beating they’re about to take. After he falls in a split, Stan makes his way carefully into the spot he dropped his phone and his bag, connecting it to the room’s speakers, hearing gentle soundscapes fill the empty space. The sound is cut off abruptly, the familiar bass filling the room of a routine he all but memorized. It felt as easy as his speech for his Bar Mitzvah, the steps coming to him as simple as breathing. He drags a chair to the center of the room, dancing around it slowly before straddling it and moving his hips suggestively. He keeps his eyes on himself, locking with his reflection as his hips do the dirty work and make himself feel almost weightless. The music blares through the room, leaking into the hallway and attracts a visitor, the alluring beat and the slide of someone dragging their feet across the tiled floor.

‘Cause girl you’re perfect

You’re always worth it

And you deserve it

The way you work it

‘Cause girl you earned it, yeah

Girl you earned it, yeah

Stan’s ragged breathing resounds in his ears, hearing soft footsteps through the hallway and he stumbles to stop the music on his phone. “Whoa, mind showing a third party what you can do, pretty lady?” the visitor asks, Stan rolling his eyes as he bends back to his standing height, shaking his curls lightly. “Aww, not gonna give me a smile and show that face, princess? The name’s Bill.” No. It can’t-

“Bill?!” Stan all but shrieks, spinning around to give the other a good look at what he was wearing. “What are you doing here!”

“I could ask you the same thing!” Bill responds, his eyes grazing over the other’s body slowly, taking in the sight of his normally uptight friend in such a revealing outfit. “Why are you doing dancing around in an empty studio when you could be making some serious cash just shaking it around on a stage?”

“BILL!” Stan yells again, grabbing his sweat pants and pulls them on over the shorts, the music now softly playing through the speakers. He looks at the other, seeing the ruffled curls and disheveled shirt on his frame. “Let me do this alone, please?” His eyes are softer, more begging and Bill nods, turning on his heels and struts out the door. He rolls the pants down once more, looking down and starts the music up again, circling the chair before dropping in it heavily, swaying and moving to the beat.

Bill doesn’t tell him he watched from the other side of the mirrors, no. That would be wrong. He also doesn’t tell Stan that he wishes he was in the chair with him, being danced on and whispered dirty things, hearing Stan’s ragged breathing in his ear as he works himself into a sweat. That would be a violation of their trust for each other. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but in the weeks to come, he would keep giving Stan subtle hints that Stan should try out dancing in a club, and he certainly doesn’t show up in person when he sees Stan’s name under ‘Amateur Hour” on the board of his favorite bar. He doesn’t watch, but he knows from the first notes of the song that it’s his best friend, and he tears his eyes away from the glass he had been nursing for an hour to see Stan in a tight corset, booty shorts and a face full of makeup waltzing around and getting more money in tips than the professional dancers did. He didn’t see Stan the next night either, because he decided it was best to retire that bar from his list and stay at home, watching Eddie struggle to tie knots in the ropes on his hands and make love to him in the empty darkness of the once warm room, thinking of not the soft curves, feathery straight hair and gentle caressing hands of Eddie, but of the sharp angles, messy curls and calloused hands of one Stan Uris.

[ddproductionsw77]

Watching You Watch Her

Fandom: IT (Muschietti Films)

Pairing(s): Pining but not established Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak), Richie Tozier x Sandy Montgomery (OC), Stenbrough (Stanley Uris x Bill Denbrough) and Benverly (Ben Hanscom x Beverly Marsh), Mike Hanlon x Mila Roberts (OC)

Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Sandy Montgomery (OC), Mila Roberts (OC)

Rating: T

Description: Eddie struggles with the fact that Richie has a girlfriend, one that is actually pretty much perfect.

Author’s Note: This is the REVISED version of Watching You Watch Her. If you see any typos, let me know!

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Why did she have to be so fucking great?

Eddie contemplated this question as he watched Sandy Montgomery from across the room, cuddled up against the side of his best friend. Richie’s arm was slung over her shoulders and with her free hand, she had reached up to intertwine her fingers with his. He was absentmindedly tracing from her knuckles to the blood red fingernails that matched her shade of lipstick and the ribbon in her hair oh-so-fucking perfectly while he talked enthusiastically with Mike beside him.

Mike was a traitor, Eddie thought as he narrowed his eyes on them and took a sip from his red solo cup, grimacing slightly at the concoction Beverly had made him. Mike had promised him that if he came to the stupid fucking party with the rest of them that he and his current girlfriend, Mila, would stay by his side. Mike was across the room and Mila was doing shots with Beverly in the kitchen. And Eddie was standing against the wall all alone, per usual.

They were probably talking about their fucking stupid band. Richie played guitar decently and Mike could drum. They’d just started playing together at the start of the school year a couple months back and now it was all they fucking discussed. 

Sighing, Eddie rolled his eyes and felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to find Stanley sliding into place beside him. He quirked an eyebrow and had to practically yell to the other to be heard over the music, “I thought you weren’t coming?”

“It’s Jack Colins’ party. I’m not leaving Bill alone with all these drunk baseball players.” Stan sighed, looking out at the room. 

Eddie shrugged. Jack Colins was the captain of Derry High’s baseball team, which Bill had played main pitcher for since Sophomore year. He, Mike, Ben and Bev were the only reason the Losers had even been invited parties of this kind, as the athletes of the group. Mike was the varsity star quarterback and Ben and Bev both ran track and field. 

His eye line fell back upon Richie and Sandy and he felt annoyance flare to life in his chest. Before he could stop himself, he said, “Sandy wasn’t even invited.”

Stanley eyed him from the corner of his eye before sighing, “She’s Richie’s girlfriend. Loser by association, right? Those are the rules so she gets the same invites the rest of us do. Mila, too.”

Eddie set his jaw before taking another long gulp from his drink, “I know that. But we came up with those rules in middle school, when we were desperate for friends. It’s different now.”

“Different because?” Stanley asked, turning to give Eddie a hard look.

Eddie glanced away and shrugged, taking another drink, “Just because, okay? You’re dating another Loser, it’s not like it affects you anyway.”

“Are you jealous?” Stanley asked, bluntly.

Eddie nearly choked on his drink, sputtering and stammering, “What?! Why—Why would I be— I’m not jealous!”

Stan shrugged, looking between his friend and the other Losers across the room, “It would make sense, Eddie.” 

Would it? Eddie thought, following Stan’s gaze to Richie, who was still wrapped around beautiful, funny, perfect Sandy. Would it make sense?

“You’re the only Loser who isn’t dating right now.” Stan continued, having not noticed the way that Eddie had tensed up.

Eddie felt himself deflate slightly and slipped his eyes closed, leaning back against the wall and nodding slowly. Clearing his throat, he glanced at Stan before nodding and looking at his feet, “Right… yeah, because I’m not dating anyone…”

“Speak of the devils,” Stan muttered and Eddie looked up to see Mike, Richie and Sandy heading toward them. He bit back a groan and kept his expression neutral as they approached.

“Hey, Stan The Man, came to keep an eye on your boy toy?” Richie asked with that twinkle in his eye he always got when mildly intoxicated. Eddie wondered if Sandy noticed it too before shaking the runaway thought from his mind. He couldn’t think like that, it was wrong and, more importantly, it was pointless.

Stanley said nothing, just gave Richie a look before pushing off the wall and muttering, “I’m going to go find Bill.”

Mike slipped into the spot Stan had been in and nudged Eddie, “Where’s Mila? I thought she was going to hang with you?”

“She went with Bev to do some shots in the kitchen,” Eddie shrugged, looking down into his cup.

“Damn! That sounds fun!” Sandy’s melodic voice exclaimed, drawing Eddie’s attention back up without his consent. He watched as she looked up at Richie and gently tapped his cheek, “You’re lucky I like you and am willing to stay sober enough to drive your drunk ass home.”

“I know and I cherish you, San,” Richie muttered, burying his face in the thick, curly hair a top her head. 

Eddie glanced away and met Mike’s eyes, “I can take you to find Mila.”

“Nah,” Richie cut in, looking over at them with his chin resting on Sandy’s hair, “I got it. I need a refill anyway. Eds? Need anything to drink?”

Mike moved to stand with Richie, who was finally detaching himself from his girlfriend, as Eddie shrugged and shook his head, instinctually snapping, “Don’t call me Eds. And no, I’m fine.”

“Cool,” Richie nodded and quickly leaned down to kiss Sandy, “Play nice, I’ll be back.”

“Later, Loser,” Sandy laughed, shoving him away. He laughed, shortly squeezing her hand before letting her go and following after Mike.

Why did they have to be so good together?

Eddie sighed, inspecting his cup closely to avoid looking at Sandy and thus being pulled into a conversation with her. She wasn’t bad to talk to or anything… she was actually really nice and funny, which just made it all the more fucking worse. 

He shouldn’t feel this way… he had no reason on Earth to feel this way…

His luck ran out within a minute as Sandy looked around the room, her eyes falling on him as her redrum lips curled into a smile, “Eddie? Can I ask you something?”

No, he wanted to say. Fuck off, he wanted to add. But he didn’t.

Instead, he just shrugged and muttered too quiet for her to hear over the music, “Free fucking country.”

Sandy ran her gaze over his face before crossing her arms over her chest and saying loudly, “So, you really don’t like me, huh?”

His stomach dropped and he stood there for a long moment, opening and closing him mouth as he stared at her like a fucking deer in headlights.

He… he should say she was wrong, right? Wasn’t that what a good friend would do? What a best friend should do? Because he was still Richie’s best friend, right? Besides, he really had no rhyme or reason for not liking her. At least not one that made sense and didn’t make him out to be a total dick.

Finally, he managed to shake his head, “No! I— I don’t not like you, Sandy. I— I don’t even really know you.”

“And you don’t really try to,” She cocked her head to the side, “Actually, most of the time it feels like you’re avoiding me, trying to duck out of talking to me and I just wanted to know, you know, why?”

“Why?” Eddie echoed, still floored. Sandy was watching him with observant but unbothered eyes. If she really felt like he didn’t like her, it was clear that she didn’t care all that much about his opinion. He blinked and looked away before glancing back at her, “I don’t—“

“Is it because you don’t think I’m right for Richie?” She asked, tucking some of her flowing hair behind her ear, which was pierced in three places. Jesus, if he brought home a girl like her to his mother… It could possibly be worse than the way he was sure she’d react to finding out he was gay.

“No!” Eddie shook his head instantly, “That’s not it!”

“So you admit it, then? You admit you don’t like me?” Sandy quipped, a flash of something like triumph in her lush green eyes, those lips forming a confident smirk.

Eddie’s mouth slammed shut again and he shuffled uncomfortably, shaking his head and looking anywhere but at her. It felt like she was picking him apart, taking his walls away brick by brick and worming her way behind his exterior to the things he didn’t want anyone, especially her, to see. Again, he didn’t know what to say and he figured anything he managed to come up with, Sandy wouldn’t listen to anyway. 

She’d already made up her mind that she knew everything. That she was totally right…

She was right, though, wasn’t she?

“Come on, that’s gotta be it, Eds. You think I’m wrong for Rich—“

“Do not fucking call me that,” Anger flared, hot and fierce in his chest, roaring up his throat and burning it. He spun his head back to look at her, glaring and continuing on hotly, “That’s not fucking it, Sandy, okay? You’re fucking perfect for Richie, you’re goddamn everything he’s ever wanted! It’s great, really, is it! I just don’t like you because I don’t fucking like you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Sandy watched him as he practically yelled at her before falling silent. She sighed, shrugging, “I mean, I don’t think that’s something anyone wants to hear but okay. There’s hundreds of personalities out there, some are bound to clash.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie rolled his eyes, spotting Richie head back their way with Mike and Mila trailing behind him, “I’m leaving now, Sandy.”

He ended up having to walk home, as Mike had been his ride.

________________________________________________

Two weeks after the party, Eddie had finally started to wind down from the whole thing. He’d spent almost all his time since waiting for Richie to confront him about being a dick to his girlfriend but he never did. Sandy must have not told him… shocking, really, with how wrapped around each other those two were. 

Maybe it should have endeared him somewhat to her, having some secret that she’d kept, but it didn’t. He still felt like screaming every time she sat with them at lunch, on Richie’s other side, and wanted to throw up when he caught sight of his best friend leaning over to whisper some sweet nothing into her ear. It was getting to the point where he was avoiding ever hanging out with the Losers anymore because she was just always fucking there. There on Bill’s couch, snuggled into Richie’s side while they watched movies, there in the library, passing notes to Beverly about Bev’s clothing sketches, there all the time. 

He couldn’t get away from Sandy and Richie and their nauseating obsession with each other.

However, he had agreed to pattering along with Mike to a rehearsal for his and Richie’s band in their bassist’s, Danny’s, garage. 

Danny was fine… maybe even cute when Eddie gave him a little more attention but he wasn’t all that interesting or entertaining. Good enough at bass, though, Eddie guessed as he sat on the couch in the corner of the garage, reading his assigned book while the guys practiced. 

“We could try You Shook Me All Night Long?” Danny suggested, playing with some cords on his bass nonsensically.

Richie shot him a look, “Can you fucking sing Brian Johnson, Danny? Cuz, I sure as hell can’t. I can barely manage some of Jagger’s range so no, we’re not going to try You Shook Me All Night Long. Ideas, Micycle?”

“I don’t care, Rich,” Mike sighed, glancing over at Eddie, who was still hunched over his book, “Something from Queen? We’re decent with Under Pressure or Another Bites The Dust.”

“See, Danny?” Richie snarked, pointing to Mike, “That’s what a good idea sounds like, you should try it on for size sometime.”

Mike laughed as Danny flipped Rich the bird before starting the iconic bass line for Under Pressure. Hearing this, Eddie glanced up, his eyes immediately finding Richie. He watched as the spastic asshole looked back at Mike, nodding in unison before they both joined Danny and started singing at the same time. 

Eddie loved Queen… And he loved watching Richie play. Watching Mike and Richie play, that is. 

Eyes trailing to follow Richie’s spidery digits as they found the cords on muscle memory alone, he suddenly felt like all the air had gone from his lungs, like Henry Bowers had just clocked him cold in the gut. Biting his lip, he forced his head back down and stared at the words on the page before him but not reading a single word.

All he could think about was that look of earnest concentration on Richie’s face that he only got when he was still getting comfortable playing a song… 

He let out a breath of air and felt his face burn. Fucking humiliating.

Humiliating and pointless.

They played through the song and followed it by striking up the rhythm of Everybody Wants To Rule The World and then playing into Bastards of Young. After that song, Richie called for a break, eyeing the clock. He sighed, “Alright, San just got off work so she’ll be here in a bit, that cool, Danny?”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t care. Just don’t, like, fuck in my house.”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and forced the image of Sandy and Richie intimately wrapped up together from his mind as he heard Richie chuckle, “I swear to save all the fucking for her place later, Danny Fanny.”

Jumping up from his seat on the couch so that his book went tumbling to the floor, Eddie hastily snatched it up and ran a hand down his face, “I—Uh—I just remembered I gotta go so I’m just going to—“

“Seriously?” Richie asked, eyebrows drawing together. “You have to leave?”

“I— Yeah, my mom’s got, like, a thing so I’ll just walk back home before she freaks the fuck out,” Eddie shrugged, being uncharacteristically rough as he shoved his book into his backpack and kept his eyes on the ground.

Richie sighed, watching him, “Why are you so fucking busy all the time, now? You skip movie nights, you flake out of study sessions at Bev’s and Bill’s… It sucks, we barely hang out anymore, Eds.”

Eddie let out a humorless laugh and shot Richie a look, “Yeah, because that’s my fault.”

“Guys…” Mike broke in, raising his eyebrows.

At the same time, Richie rubbed the back of his neck and shot back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Eddie huffed, turning back to face Richie fully, “You’re the one who’s been too busy shoving your tongue down some random girl’s throat to make plans, not me.”

“Some random girl?” Richie snapped, sounding genuinely angry for the first time in the conversation, “Sandy’s not some random girl. She’s my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie shook his head, “So, I’ll just wait the month or however long this one’s gonna last and then just hang out with you after.”

“Eddie!” Mike scolded, shaking his head. 

Danny was watching the two like they were a tennis match.

Richie turned his head away, laughing to himself in a humorless fashion before nodding and looking back at Eddie, “You know what? Fuck you, Eds. At least I’ve been in more relationships than just one four-day long fling from a year ago. What are you, twelve?”

Eddie glared, jaw set as he slung his bag over his shoulders, “Fuck you, too, asshole. As if there’s even anyone in Derry worth wasting my time on.”

With that, he shoved his way out of the garage and out of the house, heart still hammering in his chest and his blood boiling. Why was everyone always so fucking obsessed with how many people you’d dated anyways? And it wasn’t like he had a ton of options, being gay in Derry, anyway and Richie fucking knew that! 

Crossing his arms over his chest, he made it to the end of the driveway before Mike caught him.

“Eddie!” He heard his friend calling to him, “Eddie, come on, wait!”

Throwing his head back dramatically, he spun on his heel to face him, “What do you want, Mike?”

Mike stopped before him, opening and closing his mouth and glancing away before sighing and rubbing his hands together, “You… you can’t really be mad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?! He said—“

Mike cut him off before his voice could rise up too high, “He said what he did because you started it! And you… really don’t have a right to start stuff about him and Sandy.”

“A right?” Eddie demanded, “What does that even—“

“You could have done something about it, Eddie,” Mike broke in again forcefully before sighing again and continuing softer and more somber, “You— you had every chance to make a move and you didn’t.”

Eddie stood there in Danny Costello’s driveway and felt like sinking right through the crust of the Earth so that he could burn up in the fucking core. That would be better than this, then having this conversation, because this couldn’t be happening. No one— No one could know that he— 

He swallowed and stared at Mike, barely whispering, “I— I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mike let out a long breath and nodded, keeping Eddie’s gaze, “Well, I think you do… And you can’t be mad at him for not waiting around for you to do something about it.”

“I’m not mad,” Eddie answered without thinking, “And I’m not— I didn’t expect— I don’t— Mike, I — I gotta go. My mom— I gotta go.”

He nearly tripped over himself in his haste to get away. 

__________________________________

It was movie night again and Eddie had forced himself to go.

He was being ridiculous, he had realized that on his walk home from the band rehearsal two days before. He was the one with the problem. He was being unreasonable, he was being crazy. And in the long run, it wouldn’t matter one way or another what Sandy thought of him but it would matter if Richie was mad.

His own idiocy wasn’t worth fighting, really fighting, with Richie. They didn’t fight, well, at least not the kind of fighting where they ended up honestly mad at each other. They snapped, they bickered, they argued but they didn’t ever mean any of it. It was just the way they were and Eddie wasn’t willing to risk that just because he was being a fucking psycho. 

He’d gone to Richie’s locker first thing the next day and apologized. He even taken it a step further, promising he would make time to get to movie night that week… Which was how he’d wound up in his current situation.

It wasn’t actually bad yet, he thought, laughing as he watched Beverly, Mike, and Bill playing  flip cup, without alcohol as Bill’s mother was upstairs, around the coffee table before him. 

Richie, and by extension Sandy, hadn’t gotten there yet, his eyes unwittingly flickering to the other end of the couch, where the two usually snuggled. His chest constricted and he almost reached for the inhaler he didn’t carry anymore before grasping the pillow he had been hugging tighter.

Stupid.

“D—Dammit, Bev, how are you suh—so good?” Bill asked, leaning back on his hands as Beverly won yet another round against him and Mike.

The red head winked at him, adding, “I’m even better at beer pong.”

“We know,” Mike rolled his eyes, reaching up to flick one of the empty solo cups at her. Beverly easily caught it in air and set it on the edge of the table, flipping it in one try before giving Mike a cocky smile.

“Where’s Mila?” She asked as she gathered up the other cups and handed them up to Ben, who took them out to the kitchen for her. 

Mike rolled his eyes, “She had to work and she refused to switch shifts with her friend because I guess she’s mad at me for something, I don’t know. She said she wants a night where she doesn’t have to see my face.”

Beverly laughed, leaning into Ben’s side as he took his spot beside her once again. From the chair over to the side, Stanley glanced over at them from his homework, “Well, you must have done something. Mila is the first sane girl you’ve dated.”

“I think she’s bugged that I cancelled plans to meet her parents this weekend,” Mike shrugged, “I didn’t want to but my grandpa said he needs me all weekend to help with this seasons harvest.”

“Still,” Bill said, shaking his head, “C—Can’t cancel on the girlfriend’s p—parents, Mike.”

Mike was about to respond when the front door flew open, causing half of them to jump. Eddie, so thoroughly desensitized to Richie’s dramatic entrances, merely glanced over his shoulder and felt his heart jump into his throat. Richie was grinning, actually grinning, not the smirk-smile thing he did most of the time, and he was alone. 

He felt his palms grow sweaty as he turned around fully to greet the trashmouth, “You’re late, asshole.”

Richie raised his eyebrows at him, still smiling wide and real, “Am I? Whoops.”

Behind Eddie, on the floor Beverly shot him a playful glare, “Yeah, Trashmouth, and it’s your turn to pick the movie, too, so we couldn’t even start anything without you.”

“Right,” Richie laughed a little and shook his head to himself. 

Eddie’s eyebrows drew together and he glanced over his shoulder at Stanley, who also looked perplexed. Something was off. Usually about now, Richie would make some joke about how his pick for the week was some porn knock-off of a famous movie or something like that. He’d have already climbed over the back of the couch and pinched Eddie’s cheeks, saying hi and commenting about how cute he looked. 

Instead, he was still just standing there, smiling to the point Eddie was starting to wonder if he was high on something.

Stanley spoke before he could, asking, “What are you giggling about, Trashmouth?”

Richie reached up, rubbing the back of his neck, and laughed again before declaring dramatically, “My dearest friends, I have come to the conclusion that I am completely obsessed, utterly in love, totally devoted!”

Before he could stop it, Eddie felt his expression go slack, his lips parting slightly as his breath caught in his throat. 

Richie didn’t seem to noticed that or anything else, throwing his arms skyward as he rambled on, “I am in love with Sandra Penelope Montgomery and I must declare my love to the Heavens!”

“Please,” Eddie heard Beverly’s voice from somewhere distant, even though he was sure she was within reaching distance behind him, “Don’t do that, Tozier. But congratulations, I like Sandy. She’s good for you.”

“Yeah, that’s awesome, Rich,” Ben, again sounding miles away, added.

Eddie blinked, feeling the air in his throat and lungs like a fire that was licking him up from within. He couldn’t look at Richie, at his big, wide smile anymore, his eyes darting to his hands instead as he heard all the others cracking jokes or talking about how fucking great Sandy was and how happy they were for Richie. He wanted to join them, wanted to be happy for Richie too, but instead all he felt was that burning and a sense that he was on the verge of an asthma attack. 

Breaking into a coughing fit, grasping his throat, he muttered something about needing water and bolted for the kitchen. He barely stumbled through the door but managed, going to the sink and turning the cold water on to full blast. 

Each breath of air felt like pins and needles in his lungs and he felt his eyes prickle with tears as he reached out to grasp the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. His vision was becoming tunneled and it hit him a like a Mac truck that he was having a panic attack. A full blown, real deal panic attack.

He was having a panic attack and he wasn’t sure wether he was going to pass out, vomit down his front or just fall over dead right there. All he was sure of was that something awful was happening, something so awful he couldn’t even think it without wanting to cry.

Leaning down, he forced his eyes closed, taking in one breath at a time. He started off shaky and lightheaded but slowly, slowly managed to achieve some semblance of steady oxygen flow before he felt a hand fall onto his back. He jumped, standing up straight and whirling around to find Mike leaning against the counter beside him.

Eddie met the other boy’s eyes and quickly darted his gaze away, shame and embarrassment welling in him. He looked up at the ceiling, letting out a long, shaken breath before barely whispering, for only Mike to hear, “He’s in love with her.”

“I know...” Mike mumbled, shifting beside his friend, unsure of how exactly to help. He settled on reaching out to rub Eddie shoulder, “I’m— Eddie, I really am sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, bringing his hands up to run them down his face, wiping away any tears that had slipped through his defenses, “It doesn’t matter.” 

He wasn’t completely sure who he was trying to convince, himself or Mike. Either way it was true. It didn’t matter, how he felt about Richie, how Richie felt about Sandy, none of it. It never had. Because so what if Mike had been right? So what if he did have feelings for Richie? Not a single part of it changed what was happening now. Richie was in love with Sandy and Eddie...

He squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head at himself before turning his head to Mike, “I’m fine Mike, I just need some water. You’re going to miss the start of the movie. Just, go.”

Mike watched him carefully for another minute before nodding slowly and slipping out of the kitchen. Eddie stood there alone for another minute, feeling that overwhelming sense of dread wash over him again but this time keeping himself together despite it. He bit his lip hard and bounced on the spot, taking more deep breathes before turning around and getting himself a glass of water.

He wasn’t dead, he reminded himself.

He could live with Richie being in love with Sandy. He could move past that, right? Surely. 

Eddie’s brain flickered back to that sight of Richie, smiling bigger than he thought he’d ever seen, coming into the house just moments ago. Richie, looking happier than Eddie could remember him being in a long time. That couldn’t be a bad thing, could it?

Richie being happy?

He could survive this, live with the burning in his chest. As long as Richie was happy, he could do that easily.

Gulping his water, Eddie schooled his expression into a casual smile and went back to the living room to watch whatever dumb ass movie Richie had picked with his friends.

As long as Richie was happy, Eddie would find a way to be fine with it.

[rideagainstthedevil]

Married Stenbrough - Closed RP

@finks-spaghetti

Bill sits at his computer, working on his new book. It’s something special for Stan. He is pleased with how his novel is coming along so he hums happily as he types. When he finishes the couple of chapters he is currently working on, he saves his work and closes his laptop. He had been working on his novel since this morning so he shakes out his hands to relieve the slight cramping. He gets up from his desk and stretches before going to see what he husband is up to. “Stan, babe, whatcha up to?” He calls out after he leaves his office.

[eddieeatsass]

I read The Key To Pleasure and fucking loved it dude. Could you do some stenbrough with top Bill and bottom Stan? Maybe using toys or something along those lines, maybe in front of the losers or where they can hear.. I’m giving you creative control lmao. I love your writing!

Thank you so much for this prompt! It was so fun, and I love Stenbrough and really don’t write enough of them, so thanks for giving me a less popular ship to work with. :’)Read on AO3 or below

It was the end of autumn and the Losers had been en route to their shared cabin all day. It was a few hours drive outside their hometown, so they’d taken two cars as to not drive themselves crazy by packing together like sardines.

They’d arrived half an hour ago, and had coupled up to head off and claim their rooms. Stan and Bill had chosen the room on the top floor; a cozy attic conversion with an abundance of bedding and not much else. The ceilings were slanted into a triangle, shaping the roof outside, and at the back of the room was a large window that led out to a small balcony, merely large enough for one individual to stand on.

It was quaint, exactly the kind of atmosphere Bill and Stan were looking for on their mini vacation. Of course, their excitement was only amplified by the fact that their best friends were sharing the weekend with them.

When they’d proposed the idea, they weren’t sure how the others would react. Bill had explained their plans for the trip, and had left the offer open for the losers to tag along, but they’d never done anything like this before so there was hesitancy on how everyone would respond.

Luckily, their friends had grown to be very sex-positive (and comparably kinky) individuals, so they were eager to join in on Bill and Stan’s little exhibitionist tryst.

But regardless of everyone’s eager response, Stan still felt his gut clench at the idea of an entire weekend at the mercy of Bill, while their friends were free to watch on as they liked. It was new, and it nudged at a place of vulnerability that Stan hadn’t felt in a long time, but it also created an unfathomable amount of arousal to pump through his system. It made him dizzy every time he thought about it for too long, thought about all of the things Bill could do to him, and how Stan would be on full display the entire time.

 As Stan was lost in thought, Bill began unpacking some of their things. He bypassed their clothing and toiletries, navigating instead towards some of the more fun items he’d brought along.

He pulled out a bottle of lube, along with a silk pink ribbon and one of the glass dildos from their collection. Stan was already shivering at the sight.

“We’re starting right away?” Stan asked timidly, uncrossing and then recrossing his legs in a nervous gesture.

“Only if you’re ready.” Bill answered, his voice soft and gentle, insistent on not making Stan feel pressured one way or another.

Stan nodded at him, and as a second gesture of consent, began shedding his clothes.

“You know we can stop at any point.” Bill ensured. “If it becomes too much for you-”

“I know.” Stan cut him off, smiling reassuringly. “The safeword is blue jay.”

Bill crossed the room swiftly, closing the distance between them with a fiery kiss that knocked Stan back into the mattress. They laughed into each other’s mouths, continuing the kiss with a little less passionate but the same amount of love. Now, Stan felt ready.

“Alright… do your worst, Denbrough.” Stan challenged cockily.

“Oh ho ho, you’re gonna regret saying that, Stanny.”

 In a flash, Bill wrapped his arms around Stan’s thin frame and flipped him on his belly, exposing his bare ass to the firm slap that Bill delivered. Stan’s face split into a grin, his body reacting to the action as if it had been trained to. He lifted his hips up off the bed and swiveled his ass in the air. The action revealed the bejeweled butt plug that was nested deep inside him, keeping him at the ready for whenever Bill wanted to take him. Stan lifted his hips even higher, silently begging for another slap, but it never came.

Instead, Bill shifted his weight and reached for Stan's extended arms, easily bringing them together at the wrists and beginning to wrap them with the ribbon. It was a soft, soothing sensation, a juxtaposition to the excitement thrumming through his veins. Once he was securely tied up, and Bill had tested the security of his bondage, his body heat disappeared from the bed for a moment.

The dip in the bed alerting Stan to Bill's return was accompanied by the cold press of glass against the bottom of his spine. It lit up his insides like fire.

Bill had picked up the glass dildo and was slowly teasing it up the bumps of Stan’s spine, spreading shivers across his shoulder blades and shooting down his arms into his fingertips.

“Bill… Don’t tease.” Stan pleaded, knowing it was to no avail. Bill was going to do what he was going to do, and Stan’s whining wouldn’t change it.

“Oh, eager, are we Birdie?” Bill teased, dragging the glass object back down towards where Stan wanted it most.

Stan muffled an impatient sound into the bedding, letting his body relax into it as he surrendered to Bill’s ministrations.

 It took another few tormenting minutes for Bill to be done with his torture, and to finally grab the lube that he’d set on the bedside table. He set the dildo next to Stan’s face purposefully, giving Stan the time to observe the size of the object that was about to be inserted into him. His hole fluttered in response, winking up at Bill’s watchful gaze. When Bill caught sight of it, his hands started moving double time.

Stan felt the stretch of muscle as Bill removed the butt plug, followed immediately by the distinct chill of lube against his hole. It dripped down his perineum, getting dangerously close to tainting their sheets, before Bill swooped in with a single finger and scooped it all up and into his loose hole. He was already stretched open, having been worked apart this morning and then plugged up on their ride down, but the intrusion still made him jump.

Stan spread his legs instinctively, giving Bill more room to kneel on the bed behind him and venture farther into him. Stan’s dick strained against the mattress beneath him, trapped in a constant push and pull of friction as Bill’s fingers worked in and out and in and out and in and out.

Bill kept his rhythm throughout his addition of fingers, until eventually he was able to fit four digits into Stan’s body with ease; just big enough to fit the dildo he’d chosen.

The object in question was beautiful. It was made of clear glass with accents of blue swirled within it. At the top was a slight flare to imitate the appearance (and feel) of the head of a cock, and there was a smooth curve to the entire thing. Bill had gotten it custom made for their one year anniversary from a college friend of his who was taking a glass blowing course. Apparently, the whole ordeal had nearly gotten her kicked out of the class for using the studio for ‘personal use’, so Bill and Stan really cherished the toy.

Bill retrieved the dildo from next to Stan, pulling his gaze along with it as he prepped it with a generous coating of lube.

 The first push of the dildo against Stan’s ring of nerves had him already quivering, aching for more. It slid in relatively easily, the sleek glass making for a gentle slide.

Stan let out a long, low moan as the toy bottomed out inside him, its flared head nestling right up against his prostate. He felt impossibly full, the density of the object only adding to the sensation.

Bill left the toy burrowed deep inside Stan as he moved up his partner’s body, trailing slow kisses up his back before settling at his ear.

“You look so beautiful like th-th-this.” Bill whispered, his stutter coming back as arousal clouded his mind. Stan loved Bill’s stutter, loved the moments when it slipped back out and reminded him of the old days.

Bill was blanketed over Stan’s form, his pelvis level with Stan’s ass. If Bill were nude, it would be the perfect position for Bill to take Stan apart completely, but this wasn’t about that. Right now, the focus was on Stan, and Bill’s control over him.

And Bill knew the control he had. He rested his hips up against Stan’s lower back and bucked up experimentally, pushing the dildo farther into Stan with his movement.

Stan gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as his jaw tightened with the effort not to cum on the spot. Bill repeated his action, apparently happy with the response it had gotten the first time. Stan forced himself to relax, focus on his breathing and come back from the edge, but every cant of Bill’s hips drew another strangled moan out of his throat.

Eventually they fell into a steady rhythm; Bill humping into Stan and kissing down his neck while Stan mewled wantonly below him.

Stan could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, that tingle that indicated he wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer.

“Hnngg- Bill- Bill I’m getting close-” Stan tried to stutter out, gasping when Bill hit his prostate straight on.

“I love being the one to make you stutter.” Bill purred, his voice floating through the haze in Stan’s mind.

 “Damn that’s smooth.” A familiar voice carried from the other side of their door, followed by the sound of a slap, an angry whisper, and then a clutter as the door flung wide open and in fell two wide eyed Losers.

Stan tried to hold back his orgasm, he really did, but it had already started by the time Richie and Beverly were staring straight at him, and he couldn't stop the waves as they crested.

“Ahhhh- fuck.” Stan whispered into the dead silence of the room, grasping the sheets in an iron grip and letting his head fall so he didn’t have to watch the look on his friends’ faces as he came. His shoulders tensed up, mapping out the muscles in his back in a ripple effect that had Bill chuckling darkly from above him.

His release left as quickly as it had come, but it was one of the strongest he’d ever felt, leaving Stan too dizzy to look up quite yet. Instead, he stayed stalk still, focusing on evening out his breathing.

He felt Bill shift off of him and his fingers twitched in an effort to reach for his partner, but again, his body hadn't quite caught up with him yet. Luckily, Bill knew him like he knew the back of his hand, and said hand instinctively began rubbing small circles into Stan’s back. He sighed contentedly, almost instantly forgetting that two of his friends were still in the room.

But of course Richie wouldn’t stand to be forgotten.

“Shit Staniel, I've never seen you make that face before!”

“Richie! Shut up!” Beverly hushed warningly.

Bill just chuckled, a deep noise that shook the bed a little and warmed Stan from the inside out.

“It’s alright, there's no secrets here. Right Stanny?”

Bill had moved from Stan’s back to his head, massaging his fingers into Stan’s messy curls.

“Mmmmm.” Stan hummed, hoping it was response enough.

Luckily, no one prodded for more.

“Well, we originally came up here to tell you two that dinner is ready, but then trashmouth was overpowered by his dick.”

“I was not! I was just curious!” Richie defended, his face lighting up bright pink.

“Yeah yeah, come on dumbass.” Beverly grabbed Richie by the collar of his shirt and pulled him up along with her then back out the door, shutting it behind them.

 Stan waited a few beats before peeking out between his curtain of curls, surveying the room to see it empty. He finally allowed himself to flop over on to his back, cringing at the mess that was now smeared across his stomach and their sheets. He looked up to Bill, who was eyeing him with a playful smirk.

In tandem they both peeled into laughter, Stan teetering off a little abruptly when he felt the toy shifting around inside him. With a stark reminder of the position he was still in, Stan awkwardly brought his bound hands down between his legs and pulled the toy from himself. He laid it beside him, long having given up on keeping their bedding clean.

"So how was your first venture into exhibitionism?" Bill teased, reaching over to untie Stan's wrists.

"Interesting, to say the least." Stan smiled back. As soon as he was free, he threw his arms around Bill's shoulders and pulled him down on top of himself, using the close quarters to lock their lips together.

Despite them both smiling too much to properly kiss, they still did their best, parting only when Bill noticed that his flannel had fallen victim to their mess.

“I'd say a shower is warranted before we go down for dinner." Stan commented, and then adding as a last thought. "And maybe a round of laundry too."

Bill stared down in absolute admiration of the boy he'd gotten to fall in love with.

"I'll follow your lead. We both know I'm only in charge in the bedroom." He joked, earning a light slap to the arm and more laughter.

 They spent the rest of the evening cleaning themselves and their room up. Once they finally made it down for dinner, their spaghetti was cold and sitting abandoned at the dinner table. They could hear the rest of their friends chattering in the living room down the hall, and Bill and Stan both felt completely at peace as they sat down and began eating, their free hands clasped together atop the table.

[trash-the-tozier]

That stozier story was so cute! If you're goign to do any more would you maybe consider 38 with stozier or stenborough?

Ahh thank you so much!! I’ll do stenbrough for this one, since I did stozier last time! oblivious!bill came out in full force during this i’m sorry in advancei am incapable of writing short fics why @ myself 

length: 2.4k | ao3warnings: noneprompt: 38. Everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends- oh wait

send me a cliche prompt (list here: x) and a pairing and i’ll write a drabble!

“Bill, sweetheart.”

Hearing his name caught his attention, Bill turning quickly. He was over at Stan’s house, the two doing homework up in Stan’s room. Bill had gone to the kitchen for a glass of water, Mrs. Uris stopping him at the edge of the stairs.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know if Stanley’s told you about it yet, but it’s Donald’s birthday this weekend and we’re having a bit of a party.” Donald was Mr. Uris, and Stan hadn’t mentioned anything about a birthday party to Bill yet. “I just wanted to let you know that you were completely welcome to come if you’d like.”

“Oh.” The words were completely normal and fine, but something about Mrs. Uris’s tone was striking Bill as strange. Almost like she was trying a little too hard to be welcoming, which was weird, because Bill had been coming over to Stan’s house and participating in various family functions of his since they were in middle school. “Yeah, thanks.”

After another smile and a little bit of a nod, Mrs. Uris returned to the living room, and Bill took the stairs two at a time to make it back to Stan’s room. Stan was on his bed with a book in hand, evidently having put the finishing touches on his English essay in Bill’s absence, and Bill put his water on the bedside table before flopping down next to him.

“That was weird.”

“What was?” Stan asked without looking, but shifting a little, moving his torso so Bill would have more room, but then flopping his legs over both of Bill’s own.

“Your mom. She just invited me to your dad’s birthday party.”

“Really?” That got Stan’s attention, looking at him with a slight frown on his face. “She said it was family only, so I didn’t mention it; I was afraid of Richie gatecrashing the thing.”

“I can not go, if you don’t want me to.”

“No, I mean… Do you want to? It’ll be me, and my parents, and then all of my dad’s brothers or something. You’ll probably get bored.”

“Nah, I’ll come. We’ll get to hang out, right? So that’ll be fun.”

“Oh, okay.” Stan smiled, a smile big enough to reach his eyes and show his teeth. “Yeah.”

As Stan had said, the party was only family, consisting mostly of Mr. Uris’s brothers, their wives, and their children, none of which were over the age of seven. Bill and Stan kept mostly to themselves, stuffing their faces with the snacks and lemonade that Mrs. Uris had prepared. At one point they retreated to the kitchen, leaning against the counter and talking, when Mrs. Uris walked in.

She seemed almost flustered to see them, grabbing a bowl of fruit salad from the fridge as quickly as she could and backing out, apologizing and saying “I’ll leave you two alone.” Bill couldn’t figure out what that was supposed to mean, about to ask when his attention was stolen by a firecracker going off outside.

As it turned out, one of Mr. Uris’s brothers had brought a box of small explosives to set off in Stan’s backyard. That ended up being the most fun of the evening, Stan and Bill stealing an entire box of sparklers for themselves, using Bill’s lighter to catch them on fire and watch them spark to life. When recounting the party to Beverly on Monday morning in their shared Chemistry class, Bill found himself describing the sparklers, how pretty they’d been in the sunset of Stan’s backyard, how the lights had caught Stan’s eyes, his eyes so bright despite the way they were already curved into crescents by the smile in his cheeks. Beverly, with safety goggles on and hair pulled back, rested her elbow on the lab table and put her chin in her hand with a sigh.

“You two are so cute.” She told him, and Bill couldn’t do much more than laugh.

“Thanks."

“Big ‘ol Billy Boy!” Richie caught Bill after school the following Friday, slinging an arm around his neck. “You free tonight?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” Bill answered, and Richie laughed.

“Wanna see a movie?”

“Oh?” For some reason, that wasn’t what Bill expected to hear. Not that he wouldn’t want to see a movie with Richie, but still. “I think Stan and I were going to hang out.”

“Sure, okay.” Richie shrugged, readjusting his glasses. Then, “Does he want to come too?”

“I don’t know.” Bill didn’t really see why not. He and Stan didn’t have any plans more concrete than “hang out”, but he didn’t want to speak on Stan’s behalf. He didn’t end up needing to; Stan was standing in the student parking lot with Eddie, the two of them talking, Richie and Bill coming up to meet them.

“Stanley, my wise old manley.” Richie said, a strange grandioseness to his voice as he slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie kissed his cheek in greeting, lifting up on his tip-toes to reach. “Eds and I wanna see a movie tonight, and I already invited Bill; you in?”

Stan glanced over at Bill, who simply looked back, unsure of how to convey “I didn’t say yes, but I also didn’t say no” with just a facial expression. After a moment, Stan shrugged.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

“Yeah!” Richie shot his fist into the air with excitement. “Me and Eddie, and Bill and Stan! It’ll be a double date!”

And double date it was… Sort of. It was a date for Eddie and Richie, sure; they’d already been boyfriends for two years and going strong. For Bill and Stan, it was just any other time they’d gone to see a movie together in the theater--though Bill had a feeling that Return of the Living Dead III would not have been Stan’s movie of choice, which was what they ended up buying tickets to.

Richie liked to put his hand on the small of Eddie’s back as they walked, using it to steer him in the right direction when he was too busy arguing a point in Richie’s face and making sharp hand gestures at the same time. It was cute, a casual but intimate touch all the same, Bill barely noticing when Stan did the same thing as they entered the theater to help lead him to their seats.

Richie and Eddie had one giant popcorn between them, the carton half empty by the time the movie actually began, munching with open mouths as they talked in whispers about what was on the screen. Stan and Bill were also sharing a large popcorn, their hands brushing when they reached for it at the same time, Stan occasionally pelting pieces of it at Richie and Eddie when they got too loud. Stan managed to get five pieces to actually stay in Richie’s mess of curls, Bill laughing at each one.

The movie actually got tense towards the end, Bill pulled from the action on screen by the way Richie would squawk and curl into Eddie at loud noises and gruesome imagery. On Bill’s other side was Stan, gripping onto Bill’s arm rather hard, wincing and turning his head in Bill’s direction at the scares, only a breath away from pressing his face into Bill’s shoulder. Eddie was giving whoops and hollers, egging the zombie on to just eat everyone, while Bill was just pretending to be brave, wanting to be something for Stan to hold on to.

Eddie complained loudly about the end of the movie as they walked home, pausing at the crossroads where they all had to part ways. Richie leaned down to scoop Eddie up in a goodbye kiss, and knowing that it would take a few moments, Bill averted his eyes, directing his attention to Stan.

The moon was high in the sky, reflecting off Stan’s cheeks and the delicate curls in his hair. Stan glanced back at Bill, a resigned sort of expression on his face--Richie and Eddie had been dating too long for shared looks of pretend disgust to really be funny anymore--and his eyes caught the light, the same way the sparklers had the weekend before. Bill felt a sort of tug in his chest. Richie and Eddie were still kissing in the background, and a quick, unexpected thought crossed Bill’s mind--how he wouldn’t mind kissing Stan.

But as soon as the thought was there it was gone, Richie trying to pick Eddie up and knocking into Stan, nearly toppling all of them to the ground.

People around Bill were acting weird, and Bill couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. His parents always asked him why Stan wasn’t coming over, if he ended up spending the weekend at home, or why they weren’t going out to do something together. Even some of the Losers seemed surprised if they asked him where Stan was and he didn’t have an answer. As a result, Bill did end up spending more time with Stan, just because he was the only person actually acting normal. They did everything that they usually did, getting milkshakes and laying out on the grass at the park, Stan looking and pointing out the different birds he could see, Bill looking at Stan. Stan’s parents would go out on dates and Stan would invite Bill over, the two of them laughing through an attempt at making themselves dinner and watching stupid sitcoms on TV. Stan would sit close to him on the couch, their bodies becoming more and more relaxed as they sat there, reclining into a position that, more often than not, had them lying on each other and dozing off.

Eventually though, it got to a point that Bill decided to ask Ben about it.

“Why do people keep talking to me about Stan? I mean, we hang out a lot, but... It’s not like I like him more than I like the rest of you guys.”

“You--you don’t?” Ben asked, sounding both completely blindsided and curiously hesitant.

“I like all of you guys, Ben.”

“Yeah, but…” Ben frowned at him, then his whole face lit up in understanding, his mouth opening, his eyebrows going up. “Oh. Oh, oh no.”

“What?”

“No, no, nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Ben, you have to tell me.” Bill stopped him, taking Ben by the shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“Well, we all…” Ben didn’t want to look him in the eye. “Bill, the way you look at Stan… Sometimes, it’s like the rest of us aren’t even there. And… He’s always looking at you. The Losers, we thought… We kinda thought you two were dating.”

“What?” Bill asked, thinking Ben was joking. But he sounded too serious for it to be a joke, and Ben never lied to him, so it had to be real. Even more surprising, Bill found his mind not automatically rejecting the idea. Going on dates with Stan, holding Stan’s hand, kissing him… Kissing him.

Bill wanted to kiss him. All he really had to do was figure out a way to ask.

Asking was proving to be difficult. He tried to think of something that would send a kind of a hint, a date sort of activity they could do together before Bill properly asked him out. The problem was, all of the things he came up with were things that they normally did, just as friends. An attempt to make those activities more romantic had them feeling over the top and sappy, and that wasn’t what he wanted either.

Realization came to Bill at Mike’s house, when he was supposed to be working on a history assignment and his mind was wandering. He sat upright in his seat, so quickly that Mike gave a start.

“Oh. Fuck.”

“Bill?” Mike’s voice was hesitant. “You okay? Is something wrong?”

“Mike, I… I’m stupid.” Was all Bill could think to say, Mike’s eyebrows going up his forehead.

“What do you mean?”

Bill began shoving his books haphazardly into his bag, not even noticing the papers getting bent every which way as he did so. He had to go. He had a question to ask.

“I’m--I’ve been trying to think of a way to go on a date with Stan, but, but…” Mike was looking at him with complete incredulity now-- “But I’m already dating Stan!”

He took off from Mike’s house as fast as he could, urging Silver down the street. He came to a screeching stop at Stan’s front door, knocking hard and hoping Stan was home.

Thankfully, neither of Stan’s parents came to the door. It was Stan, a pencil in his hand and a concerned look on his face.

“I saw you through the window, you look--is everything alright?”

“Stan, are we dating?”

Stan looked at him for a couple of moments before laughing. Then Bill didn’t laugh back, his face falling into something more serious.

“What are you talking about?”

“I… I didn’t notice it before, we went on the double date with Eddie and Richie that… That it was a date, right? We sat together, and we shared a popcorn, and you held on to me when you got scared. We do stuff--the stuff that we do all the time, like cooking together and marathoning TV reruns and going to the park after school--it’s things that couples do, and I really like you a lot, and then I was at Mike’s and I kind of realized--”

Bill’s flustered explanation stopped there because Stan had stepped close, reaching up with one hand to place it on Bill’s cheek, and drawing him in for a kiss. The kiss was sure and strong, Stan holding onto him tightly, the pencil in Stan’s other hand dropping with a small sound as Stan reached for one of Bill’s hands and held onto it. Stan kept a hold on Bill’s hand as he drew back.

“You finally realized it, huh? We can… We can be officially dating, if you want.”

Bill, unfortunately, was having a hard time finding words. Stan had stolen all the breath from his lungs.

“I…”

“Bill?” Stan tried, his eyebrows drawing together, the expression so concerned and so cute that it brought Bill back in the moment. He could feel his face heating up from his neck to his ears.

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, yeah. I… I mean, I do.”

Stan smiled, the smile growing into a laugh, the laugh relaxing as he put his hand back on Bill’s cheek, drawing him in for another kiss. And this time Bill was ready for it, kissing Stan back. Stan took a tiny step closer as the kiss broke, humming in contentment, pressing his forehead to Bill’s own.

“Boyfriend, then?” He asked, and Bill beamed. Boyfriend. It had a nice ring to it.

[panstutteringbill]

stenbrough 👀

stenbrough. 

speaking of white attractive boys y’all ship just to ship... jk i’m kidding! (...kinda.) 

i liked them for awhile but i’ve grown out of it and i kinda don’t like it anymore tbh but there’s nothing necessarily wrong with them, i guess - except the slight romanticization of suicide amongst fans. 

PLEASE SEND ME A SHIP/CHARACTER/ANYTHING AND I’LL GIVE YOU MY UNPOPULAR OPINION!