#these tags got away from me my bad as per every night im drunk its just a bit early tn so the vibes are strange

[honexjams]

this is so sad my #manifesto tag is the most close to my soul tumblr reaches and they killed something in that tag. i feel like a limb was cut from me...

[mikeshanlon]

he’s all that: chapter two

fandom: it

pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)

word count: 5k

one | on ao3

summary:

Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”

“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”

—

Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can’t even stand to be in the same room as Richie.

warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners. also this chapter there is mentions to maggie being an alcoholic. 

a/n: hey! decided to post two weeks in a row just to get the ball rolling (which is why i still dont have all the chapters figured out as promised, my apologies). i'll probably start the every other week thing for next update (so chapter three should be up by march 4th). i would try to do every week but im a college student who has Stuff to do and also makes gifs and im horrible at finishing my writing so, giving myself a realistic deadline that will still hopefully produce quality work. anyways, richie and eddie finally interact this chapter! it's.......................  a bit messy though. and we get to see the rest of the losers club in this one too. 

tag list:  @richietoaster, @wintersember, @howellhxlic, @ed-txzier, @clara-farl3y

After standing in the hallway arguing with Bev for ten minutes, (“I mean really Bevs, fuck!” “You said anyone.” “How do we even know he’s gay?!” “Richie, please.”) Richie resigned himself to the fact that he was going to find some way to charm Eddie. Maybe Beverly would let him borrow that spellbook she bought junior year when she had become obsessed with witchcraft and hexing the patriarchy.

Once school was finally over, Richie dropped off Mike at his farm per usual, ranting about the bet the whole ride over. The farm boy nodded along, but he knew the words ‘told you so’ sat on the tip of his tongue.  

They pulled up to his house, the engine idling so he wouldn’t have to spend time getting it to start again, “Don’t wait up for me tonight if you wanna smoke. Got lotsa research in store,” Richie said as Mike grabbed his backpack and got out of the car.

Mike raised a brow, leaning into the passenger window (which in its broken state always stayed down), “I’m surprised Rich. You never do your homework.”

“Homework shmomwork,” he tapped the end of his cigarette out the window before taking another drag, “Gotta figure out what little ol’ Edward likes. Time for some deep dark internet exploration.”

“Ah, you’re gonna stalk him. Wasting time on social media does sound much more in character,” Mike smiled.

“It’s not a waste Mikey darlin’, a shit ton of preemo dank is on the line.”

The other boy laughed and shook his head, “Godspeed Tozier.”

Richie saluted Mike as he reversed out back to the main road, Bigmouth Strikes Again blasting on the old car radio.

He weaved through the streets filled with kids walking home or trying to find something to do in this shit-hole town. Long afternoons spent at The Aladdin watching the newest releases or aggressively slamming his fingers down on his favorite game at the arcade came to mind; along with going out of his way to bother just about everyone in his path. Richie never really had many friends when he was younger, spending most of his time alone. He was grateful he crossed paths with Bev and Mike, to fate, luck, God if it existed. The universe was rarely kind to him, but finding them was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Plus, the first time he had smoked weed, but that was with them too.

Turning onto his street, Richie pulled up to the unsuspecting two-story white house. It was straight out of a handbook on the American Dream; but the closer one looked, the imperfections started to appear.

The box overflowing with bottles once filled with alcohol next to the recycling bin, which was already too full with more empty bottles. A crooked ‘Home Sweet Home’ sign by the front door. Dying grass, overgrown and conquered with the little weeds Richie used to make wishes on before blowing the seeds into the summer air (I wish for friends. I wish for better parents. I wish to be loved).

He parked the station wagon on the curb, saving the space next to his Mom’s car for his father.

Maggie’s car hadn’t been driven in months (years?), and Richie absently wondered if it would even work anymore. It was nice, a decent heater and it drove well, at least it did when she had bothered to drop him off at school as a kid. Despite her general lack of care for the wellbeing of others, Mrs. Tozier did not drink and drive. Meaning, she didn’t drive at all, as she was drunk off her ass most of the time.

Richie grabbed his books from the backseat and clambered out, fumbling to find his house key among the mess of weird keychains he bought while high.

He didn’t bother stating his presence, even as a pretense, giving up the habit long ago.

Maggie Tozier sat outside, her back facing the screen door in the kitchen. A cigarette rested from her fingertips, and Richie wasn’t sure if she was actually smoking it or just watching it burn. Of course, her other hand gripped a bottle of beer, and a wine cooler sat at her feet.

Richie scoffed and bounded up the stairs to his room, a ‘KEEP OUT’ sign and band posters adorning the door.

It was often said that one’s room reflected who they were as a person, and Richie was no exception. That is, to say, his room was an absolute fucking mess. His bed was never made, and clothes and knick knacks littered the floor (he had already tripped over some beat up sneakers as he walked in). Old mugs, comics, a lava lamp, lotion, and an ashtray Bev had made him in ceramics sat on his bedside table (read: an old wooden apple carton). The only thing that he kept clear was his record player and vinyls at the edge of the bed, which were meticulously organized.

He tossed his notebooks on his desk, alongside stolen pens, his laptop, and his bong. If his parents actually fucking talked to him he would bother to hide his shit, but it didn’t really matter.

Picking up his laptop and its charger, Richie was on his way out again. He could stay home to conduct his research, but he hated the stuffiness and how lifeless the house felt. It wasn’t really even a home, at least not his. Plus, coffee. It was a necessity, especially for the amount of bullshit he’d have to go through just for the tiny brat.

Richie drove to the Starbucks on Main and Belmont, strolling up to barista and ordering his usual: venti quadruple-shot, black. While he often gorged himself on sweets, his need for caffeine could only be sated by the purest form the coffeeshop could offer.

Per usual, the barista gave him a look, “You sure?”

“Listen, I’ve already made a shit ton of horrible decisions today. Trust me, this is not the worst of them,” Richie answered, sliding the cash across the counter

She raised her brows but said nothing else, handing him the change.

He set up shop at a table by the window in the back, away enough from the other patrons. Most of the time Richie threw caution to the wind, but he figured it would suspicious if someone saw him furiously stalking someone who looked like they hadn’t even graduated from middle school.

After retrieving his coffee, opening his MacBook, and plugging his headphones in, Richie scoured Instagram first. ‘Eddie.k’ didn’t post much, mostly some artsy photos, including ones of Bill and Stanley Uris (their other best friend). There were only one or two selfies, much to Richie’s disappointment. Eddie wasn’t actually too bad looking if you ignored his clothes, his hair, his… everything. Freckles dusted his face, concentrated around his little nose, a few on his lips. Cute lips. Cute cheeks. He had the urge to pinch them. But Jesus, that combover. What was he, a balding man in the 80’s?

Other than those pictures, Eddie hadn’t really posted to Instagram in months. He moved onto  his tagged photos. They had some more substance, although Eddie had pretty much only been tagged in pictures by Bill and Stan. It wasn’t like Richie wasn’t in the same boat of having only a few close friends, but at least he hung out with other people.

For the most part, the pictures were pretty normal, the three of them hanging out. Richie couldn’t help but snort at a picture of the three, presumably after a sleepover. They looked exhausted, hair messy, and were brushing their teeth. Pretty mundane, but Eddie had pulled a ridiculous face in the mirror. It was silly, but Richie hadn’t even thought Eddie was capable of making jokes or doing weird shit. The fucker was always uptight, serious even when they had a substitute. Unsurprisingly, Eddie did not appreciate the post.

eddie.k: literally stan delete this!!!!!!

stantheman: @eddie.k, sorry sweatie (:

Richie grinned and continued to scroll, stopping at a picture of Eddie lying down on the grass, laughing. He wore a red tracksuit, the one students wore to P.E. when the bitter chill of autumn came to Derry. His hair must’ve been a little sweaty, because it was curling up into a messy halo around his grinning face. Richie wanted to know this Eddie, see him curl up laughing, but he knew that would never happen.

He perused their profiles for a while before growing bored, downing a third of his coffee before moving on. Except Eddie didn’t seem to have a Twitter, or a Snapchat. A quick google search of his name only came up with a few images and… a Facebook profile?

Richie prayed that it was an old one Eddie had never deleted, but after the page loaded he saw that the most recent status was made last night.

“Oh my fucking god,” he whispered to himself.

Eddie’s profile picture made him look particularly child-like, a weird picture of him pointing to the camera like he was cool, even though the same hand had a clunky old watch wrapped around it. His header picture displayed the quote ‘there is bravery in being soft’.

Richie snorted, “Yeah, a soft fucking dick!”

Another patron scoffed at his fowl mouth, and he shot her a smug grin.

Eddie only had 40 friends on the site, which consisted of Bill, Stan, some of the other nerds at Derry High, and his mother and her friends. It wasn’t like someone’s Facebook friends actually mattered, especially because only middle aged mothers who posted minion memes about their alcoholism used it anymore, but it was still kinda pitiful.

His posts were generally uninteresting, stuff like ‘super nervous for the math test’, or ‘soooooooooooo bored ://///’. Otherwise, he mostly just shared pictures of cute dogs and DIY videos.

It was hard to find any useful information on Eddie, since he obviously lied a lot. Not in the way of bragging, or saying that he did things he didn’t (like Richie did). But there were comments from Mrs. Kaspbrak’s friends calling him a lady killer, or a few posts calling Carly Rae Jepsen cute (please, Run Away With Me is the one of gayest songs of all time). Eddie was closeted, and Richie knew from experience that someone could never really be themselves around others if they weren’t out.

What his profile lacked in useable information, it more than made up with blackmail material.

Take, for instance, little Eddie in possibly the gayest fucking hat imaginable.

He screeched as he saw the picture of the eleven year old, a white fedora-bucket hat hybrid sitting atop his tiny head, before breaking out into a full on wheeze. Richie was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, and then he thought about Eddie using his inhaler in that gay ass hat and laughed even harder.

The other customers began to stare, some concerned, and others pissed off at the disturbance.

Once he had collected himself somewhat, Richie sent a screenshot to the group chat.

the losers

bev: oh my fucking G O D

richie: I CANT FUCKIN BREATHE ELRNKKLNERG

richie: LIKE F U C K !!! KLJKLGRJKLLEJK

richie: LOOK AT HIS GAY HAT

richie: LIKE, IT’S GAYER THAN WEARING NOTHING BUT A PRIDE FLAG AND GLITTER

richie: HE LOOKS LIKE A TWINKY SKIPPER

richie: HOW IS THAT HAT MORE GAY THAN EVERY SINGLE ONE RYAN EVANS WORE IN THE ENTIRE HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL FRANCHISE COMBINED

bev: i’m muting you

mike: me too

mike: also that hat isn’t that bad

“‘Not that bad?!’” Richie squawked, not that he’d be able to hear him.

(Really, Richie had no authority on the subject. He still donned the occasional Hawaiian shirt over his tees).

He refreshed Eddie’s profile, seeing that he had made a new status.

Eddie Kaspbrak: big night friday, nervous but excited !!!!

Richie raised his brows in intrigue, seeing that Bill and a handful of other people liked the status. What was going on Friday?

He checked to see if Bill had posted anything, if Eddie was going somewhere, chances were Bill was too.

Bill Denbrough: almost the weekend, finally ready to let loose

Seriously, it would’ve been so much easier if Bill was the guy Richie had to woo. Kid was probably fucking nervous for a party, a place where you threw caution to the wind and had a good time. Still, he made a mental note about finding out what their Friday plans were.

Richie sighed, taking another swig of his coffee, “God, what a fucking loser.”

Suddenly, his headphones were being tugged out of his ear by an angry middle-aged woman with short-layered hair and eye bags.

“Hey, what the fuck?” Richie glared, snatching back his headphones.

The woman returned the look, putting her hands on her hips, “Don’t you have respect for the other customers?!”

“Sweetheart, I don’t have respect for myself, let alone some PTA moms-- like the post-divorce haircut by the way.”

Apparently, his finger guns did not soften the blow, because the lady started to scream at him.

And, apparently, this lady was also the manager, and was pushing him out the door.

So great, Eddie and his dumb gay hat got him banned from Starbucks.

Even though he was wounded from Eddie’s betrayal, (because Richie getting kicked out was definitely not his fault-- it was Eddie’s homosexual headwear. An anthropomorphic device of chaos, that Eddie owned, so, yeah, it was Kaspbrak’s fucking fault.) Richie still skipped smoking on Thursday to spend his lunch with the tiny fuck.

Obviously, they hadn’t made plans to do so, but Richie had, and he really couldn’t delay starting the bet. There was a lot on the line.

So, after getting out of econ (turning in an unstudied for but probably aced quiz), and throwing his shit in his locker, Richie detoured to the cafeteria.

The place was a fucking mess, and it reminded Richie just why he avoided the place. It was pure chaos, loud and overwhelming, a million things to get distracted by. Freshman with their stupid rolling backpacks kept whizzing by, making Richie trip or get his feet ran over. The tables were already filled, the honor roll kids, the partiers, Gretta and her gang. Fucking cliches.

He got in line, picking up a tray and proceeding to fiddle with the buttons at the cuff of his black and white flannel; trying to tune out the buzz of conversation. It was weird, at parties he thrived on the noise and disorder, but here all it was doing was fucking with his ADHD.

Richie drummed a beat onto his tray as the line moved forward and picked the most edible looking slop from the menu. The lunch lady glowered at him as he reached for his money only to realize he had put it in the other pocket, fumbling to put the bills and coins on the counter.  

As she put the money in the register, Richie looked around the room, checking to see where Eddie was sitting. He was sat near one of the exits, carefully taking out his lunch and swinging his legs. And he was alone. Perfect.

“Kid, do you want a receipt or not?” the lunch lady snapped from across from him.

Richie blinked back into focus, “Uh, sure, sorry.”

She sighed and printed out the receipt, slamming it down on the tray, “Next!”

Grabbing his tray, Richie plucked up some plastic cutlery and made his way through the sea of students to Eddie Kaspbrak. He had to twist and lift his tray a bit, but eventually the crowds started to part a bit. A chorus of whispers started to erupt. Stupid small town.

“Is that Richie Tozier?”

“I think, but doesn’t he always get high with his stoner friends?”

“What is he doing here?”

“God, he’s so hot.”

Richie smirked, sending a wink at the girl’s praise before sitting across from Eddie. He watched for a moment as the boy continued to focus on on unpacking his utensils and napkins before clearing his throat.

Eddie’s eyes snapped up from his lunchbox, widening when he saw Richie.

“What the fuck?” It was meant to be a whisper to himself, but Eddie’s voice was louder than expected.

Richie grinned at the blushing boy, “Well, hello to you to Eds.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie snapped, returning to his food.

Richie waited for him to say something else, at least fucking look at him, but the little fuck kept his eyes glued to his grapes, nails aggressively ripping the fruit from their stems.

“Okay,” he started, taking a sip of his apple juice, “So, you may be wondering why I’m sitting with you—“

Eddie interrupted, annoyance apparent in every fiber of his being, “Is this gonna be quick or not?”

“I’m hoping it’s not quick, although given how hot I am it’s difficult for people to control themselves.”

A long, deep sigh came from Eddie’s (cute, soft) lips. Eddie grabbed at Richie’s hands, flipping them over so that the palms faced upwards.

“Wow, a bit forward, but I’m liking your style Kaspbrak,” Richie winked.

Eddie rolled his eyes and proceed to take out hand sanitizer from his fanny pack, squirting the floral scented product into Richie’s hands.

Honestly, what the fuck?

He must’ve sent the same message to Eddie with his face, because Eddie said, “You obviously aren’t gonna leave me the fuck alone, and if you’re gonna be in my space, you need to be clean.”

Richie raised a brow at this but rubbed the hand sanitizer into his hands anyways.

Jesus Christ, what a weird, defensive little bitch.

Eddie watched with focused eyes, and only spoke when Richie was finished.

“Continue.”

It took a moment for Richie to gain his bearings once more. This mission seemed dead on arrival, but he had to keep trying anyways.

“So, Eddie…” Richie trailed off, twirling the pasta on his plate before his eyes lit up, “Eddie Spaghetti, Eduardo, what’s up?”

Eddie scowled, “That’s not my fucking name!” he squeaked, “And ‘what’s up?’ I mean, we’ve barely even talked before. You think I’m just gonna put up with this because you’re Richie Tozier? I swear to god, if this is some fucking bullying thing...”

Around them, people began to stare and eavesdrop at the sound of Eddie yelling. Fucking perfect.

Richie blinked back at the boy across from him, now red in the face for a different reason, “Calm down, I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Fat fucking chance.”

Okay, wow. Richie had more work cut out for him than expected. He thought of what to say next as he watched Eddie finish his grapes.

“This isn’t, like, a joke,” (it wasn’t real either), “I just wanna hang out.”

“Hang out?” Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes met Richie’s, his tone mocking.

Richie nodded, “Yeah, ya know, kick it with the homies. Make out a little if you’re down. Friend stuff.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched, “You’re unbelievable. Just fucking unbe— you know, how can you even say any of that shit? How can we be ‘homies’ if we’ve never ‘hung out’ before? And don’t want to-- I’m not-- you don’t know me!”

There was something underlying in Eddie’s voice as he snapped, wavering at the end. Richie, like most things in life, was completely and utterly fucking up.

“Well then, how about we fix that?” Richie leaned forward, “I was wondering if maybe you’d wanna—“

Abruptly, Eddie stood up, grabbing his food and walked off, making his way towards the cafeteria line where Bill and Stan were paying for their lunch.

Richie looked around at all the watching faces, some snickering and others as shocked as he was.

“...Embarrass me horribly in front of all these people.”

He took a deep breath, and shoved some spaghetti in his mouth, his frown growing larger at the disgusting taste. Richie was often considered a wild card, but this was when routine was a good thing. He should’ve just avoided this and sparked up with Bev and Mike.

Actually, he was going to do just that. There was still some left in lunch, and no reason for him to stay in the cafeteria if Eddie was giving him the cold shoulder. More like a giant fucking iceberg but still, pointless. Besides, he really needed to get high now. Eddie ruined his whole mood and pissed him the fuck off.

Richie got up and tossed out the inedible garbage before going to the usual spot, finger itching for a joint.

He used his foot to push open the door, which would’ve been cool, except with his clumsiness and horrible luck he tripped forward, narrowly avoiding falling down the steps and face planting by grabbing the railing.

As Richie caught his breath and stabilized himself, he could hear his friends laughing.

“Back so soon?” Bev smirked knowingly, taking a drag.

Richie huffed, “Ha ha. Let’s yuck it up for my misfortune,” he grabbed her joint and took a long hit, “This fucking kid, Bev. I don’t think I can do this!”

“As in, you’re morally incapable of leading him on?” Mike asked hopefully.

“Please, let’s be realistic here Mikey. No, that kid is like, the fuckin devil incarnate. Shithead is fucking crazy!” Richie paced, smoking from the joint.

Bev laughed, “What makes you say that?”

“Why don’t ya ask the whole fucking school?” Richie snapped, though the anger wasn’t directed at her, “They were watching it all go down. If that wheezy asshole ruins my reputation—“

“What reputation?” Mike interjected.

Richie rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

Another voice spoke up, “I dunno, Richie’s pretty well known. I like him well enough.”

Richie whirled around, just noticing a new face among the usual group, Ben Hanscom.

The eternal new kid, since no one ever moved to ass backwards Derry, was not someone he’d expect to be behind the art building. Maybe reciting poetry or some shit, but not blazing. Ben was sweet and genuine, albeit a little shy. He was no longer the chubby kid he once was, more stocky and muscular now. They weren’t too close, as the tawny haired boy spent more time with Mike and Bev, and if not them, the other dorks (like Eddie and his friends). But either way, dude was pretty chill. Richie just didn’t really want him there mid-meltdown.

“Haystack?! You smoke?!” he whistled, “Ho-ly shit, who woulda thought!”

Ben shook his head, “Uh, no I don’t. Mike and I just had to study for history next block.”

His deep brown eyes flitted to Beverly, who had now stolen back her joint and was playing with the key that hung from her neck. Yeah, studying was the only reason. Not Ben’s excruciatingly obvious crush on the red head.

“We would’ve just gone to the library, but Bev and I made a bet about if you’d be successful or not today,” Mike said.

Richie gasped, “Betting on my failure? Fuck you guys, Benny Boy is my new best friend.”

“I didn’t sign up for that.”

“Hey, I bet on you succeeding,” Mike put his hands up in surrender, “She’s the one who thought you’d screw it up.”

“And I was right. Pay up,” Bev smiled, holding out her palm.

Mike dropped a candy bar in it with a deep sigh. She tore open the wrapping, taking a savage bite of the chocolatey sweet.

“I think you have a gambling problem,” Mike quipped.

Bev shrugged, “Not a problem if I keep winning.”

She grinned, her teeth covered in chocolate and spit. Gross. Ben still looked enraptured. Double gross.

“Anyways, can we focus on the important bet, and the fact that this fuck is impossible! Seriously, Bev, babygirl, pick anyone else!” Richie whined, plopping his bony ass on the cement.

“First off, don’t call me ‘babygirl’,” she flicked the ash off the end of the joint at him, “Second, the deal was anyone. You either woo him or you don’t.”

Richie opened his mouth to complain again but Ben beat him to it.

“I’m sorry, but what are we talking about?”

The other three looked at each other in panic. Ben was friends with Eddie, there was no way he could find out what was going on. The whole thing would be ruined before it started.

“Nothin!” Richie squeaked, “Just uh… bet that I couldn’t ace a group project. I usually just bullshit a lot of that stuff and leave it up to the others if I can. Partner’s just a little… high strung.”

Bev groaned and Mike sighed. A horrible fucking lie. Richie was already trying to formulate a better one in his head.

Ben smiled, “That’s nice, a wholesome, supportive bet. But you really should just communicate with your partner. They might be nervous because of your history is all.”

Richie let out a sound of relief before realizing Ben’s advice could actually be helpful.

“Sure, but I already tried to talk to him and it didn’t go well,” he explained.

Bev and Mike raised their brows, catching on.

“Well, how did you talk to him?” Ben asked, “Was it an ambush or a friendly conversation?

Bev snorted, “Ambush, knowing Richie. He doesn’t do friendly conversations.”

“Maybe with you, because you’re on my ass all the time,” Richie shot back, “But uh, she’s right. Shouldn’t matter though, everyone knows that’s how Tough Guy Tozier does his business.”

Mike groaned, “Please don’t call yourself that ever again.”

“You’re just coming on too strong. You have to consider what he likes, what he wants. A good partnership comes with compromise and communication,” Ben nodded sagely.

Richie ruffled his hair, putting on his trusty British voice, “Thank you Advisor Hanscom. Your wisdom is greatly appreciated.”

Ben smiled awkwardly, his eyes going to Bev once again, “Course.”

He took the joint from Bev, inhaling the musty smoke and blowing it out his nostrils, the burning sensation familiar and welcome.

“And maybe, you should talk to him sober next time,” Mike suggested.

Richie laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

By the time the final bell rang, he was still feeling defeated and unsure of his next move. Sure, he’d have to dial back his trashmouth charm, try to seem actually invested in Eddie but… that wasn’t going to happen if the brat never talked to him again. Richie had to find a way to break the tension between them, start fresh.

He sulked to his locker, pulling out his shit from the looming mess. Loose binder paper and pencils fell onto the ground, and Richie just wanted to bang his head against the wall of metal. Also, go home and smoke while playing video games but, mostly, hit his head repeatedly. Maybe he’d lose enough brain cells to forget the entire day.

After a few moments of excessive cursing, Richie grabbed what he needed and got everything that fell back into the locker. He noticed a new post it on the door just before he closed it.

Don’t give up :) <3 - mike

Richie smiled, and slammed the locker shut with a resounding clang. With a little stretch and a fix of his glasses, he strolled through the halls, making his way to the parking lot to wait for Mike.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bill and Stan loitering around the halls as well, engaged in (an undoubtedly boring) conversation.

He remembered Bill and Eddie’s facebook status’ about exciting plans for tomorrow night and decided he should investigate.

“Billiam! Staniel!” Richie called as he approached them, “What’s up?”

The two stopped talking and looked up, Bill smiling while Stan rolled his eyes.

“H-hey, Richie,” Bill waved.  Richie noted that his stutter had gotten a lot better just over the past year. The two of them had shared a few classes when they were juniors and were pretty friendly with one another. At least compared to his relationship with Eddie and Stan, who also seemed to hate him for no reason.

Speaking of, the prim and proper boy was glaring at him, “Didn’t get enough of being a nuisance at lunch?”

Richie raised a brow, “Whatever do you mean?”

Stan scoffed, and opened his mouth to respond, but Bill put a hand on his shoulder, “N-nothing. Stan’s just… on edge. What’s up w-with you?”

“Not much, just trying to figure out what my plans are for tomorrow,” Richie shrugged, “Got any suggestions?”

“The only thing on your mind is where to party? Not surprised,” Stan quipped.

Richie shoved his hands in his pockets, biting his tongue. Snapping at Eddie was what caused his whole operation to go south, and he couldn’t mess up this second chance.

Bill ignored the tension between them, “Well, usually w-we don’t do t-t-too m-much, but it’s s-senior year. Probably going to Peter Gordon's party.”

“That kid’s an ass.”

“Coming from you, that’s rich,” Stan commented, his arms crossed.

His grinned, “Well, yeah, I am Rich.”

Stan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, he is, but he’s also s-super wealthy,” Bill avoided another ‘rich’ pun, “Meaning he’ll h-h-ave q-q-quality shit.”

Richie beamed, “Ah, I get it. You’re Robin Hood-ing that fuck. I like your style Billy Boy.”

He clapped Bill on the shoulder, and the other boy blushed slightly, “W-well, it wasn’t j-just my idea. Eddie and Stan helped.”

“Eddie? He’s coming with you guys?”

Bill shook his head, “N-no. He was supposed to, b-b-but that art thing came up so he h-had to cancel.”

“Art thing?” Richie asked, suddenly intrigued. This was the information he wanted.

“Yeah,” Bill nodded, “It’s this show that happens every month. At Jester Theatre. He always goes.”

Stan not so subtly elbowed Bill in the ribs, hissing at him to shut up.

“W-what?!”

“Yeah, what’s got your steamed panties in a twist Uris?” Richie smirked.

Stan sent him a scowl, “You know very well Tozier. Eddie told us all about what you did at lunch. Back the fuck off.”

“S-stan, I don’t think he meant--”

“No, Bill, he did,” Stan interrupted, “I don’t know what your game is, but if you hurt him…”

Richie put his hands up in surrender, “Hey, I’m not going to hurt him. He seems pretty strong anyways. I mean no harm.”

Stan didn’t look convinced at all. Fair enough.

The air between the two was tense, but Bill broke it by clearing his throat, “So, uh, will w-we see you at the p-p-party?”

Richie shook his head ‘no’, “Probably not. I have some more sophisticated plans lined up.”

a/n: hope you liked it! next chapter is p much all richie and eddie so get excited. if you enjoyed i would love hearing your feedback

oh and this is eddie’s gay hat if you were curious

[sanhatation]

ri’s thicc 2017 reflection post !

its still quite a few hours away from 2018 for me but i just wanted to take this time to reflect on my absolutely Lovely 2017!!! yay time 2 get sappy as i word vomit and overshare about my year on tumblr.com !!!!

thank you loads to all of my LOVELY followers !!!!!!!!! yall are the cutest, make my day on the daily ! i wish you the best 2018 that the world can offer !!! stay healthy, take time for yourself, love yourself, love others, and be kind! 💓💓

this Riley Rant here, is gonna be here for me than anything. like a Fat journal entry !! and i am an Oversharer so here she goes [jeopardy music]

to begin, i have met and befriended so many amazing people on here this year and WOW!!!!!! lovely and supportive and talented, beautiful aroha friends??? it doesnt get better than that!!!!! i would attempt to tag all of u but yall know who u are ;)) im endlessly grateful to those of you who have really made being on here worth it. heck ya sometimes im like “why do i even spend time on here” but then!!!! idk sunny comes swingin in with just a heart full of love or sara comes swingin in with her eggs or marian comes swingin in with her rare pairs or j comes swingin in with her baking posts and thats not even HALF of it !!!!! seriously.....love you guys tons.

to my friends who i have had the pleasure of remaining your friend this year and getting closer to u !! i love you. i really dont know how yall handle me especially 2015/2016 me?? a MESS! yall are the REALEST. again, yall know who u are ;)) i hope we can continue to talk and have fun in 2018, i wish yall the best. 

and lastly....heres a THICC shoutout to my six shining stars. 

as for me as an individual, 2017 was a freaking Whack year. it was incredible....dare i say, iconic. and now its time for.....RILEY’S 2017 HIGHLIGHTS !!!!!! (also includes: the sucky parts bc even those allowed me to grow !)

- man, did 2017 start out pretty rough when my country decided it was a good idea to elect a freakin cheeto for president. however! i had the lovely opportunity to attend the women’s march at my capital the day before inauguration !! and it was powerful!!!! truly an experience ill treasure forever!

- binch....thank u Winter Dream for my whole life. tbh i wont forget sobbing at my best friend’s house when it dropped. thank u Miss Again Dance Practice. thank u Miss You & Me MV. thank u Miss Cotton Candy Choreography. thank u. 

- ah.....when some pinhead started that tr*mp chanting at a basketball game lol! so iconic that we made the new york times! gotta love that....

- OMG !!! HOW TO SUCCEED !!!! an absolutely amazing experience. granted, the male lead was a Snake, but i had a blast. Rosemary will forever be close to my heart and ill always cry a little when i hear Brotherhood of Man or Paris Original !! such an awesome opportunity. i learned a frick ton about myself as a performer. i improved a ton in acting and dancing, and also came to learn that i am very good at receiving instructions and memorizing lines quickly. i learned that i need to work on some of my facial expressions and i also learned some of my habits ! i miss u Queenie H2$ :’’)

- had my first tap dance performance ever??? i really enjoyed learning tap, and i hope to pick it back up in the future !!!!

- BIIIIIINCCH i had the opportunity to visit my sister in korea!!!!!!! wow.....truly the BEST week of my entire year, maybe even LIFE! i went to the dog cafe, the sheep cafe, mcountdown, the lunar festival kick off, gwanghwamun palace, dongdaemun, shopped a ton around hongdae, ate food by the han river, visited namsan tower (but not without getting lost), hit the noraebang TWICE, walked into a private Fantagio board meeting, ate delicious chicken on a STIIICK, ran in the rain, ordered delivery mcdonalds, had the BEST fried chicken, met a bunch of monks, was led around dongdaemun by a very old korean man, SAW EUNWOO AND DOYEON AND RECEIVED MUCH LOVE AND NEARLY DIED, hit the convenience store literally every day, snuck out, GOT A WAVE FROM KEY :((( , bought Winter Dream and lots of skin care products and lots of cute clothes, had the clearest skin ive ever had in my life, went to a buddhist temple, witnessed a drunk man fall into the splits inbetween the ground and the subway, ran up and down 1000 subway stairs, fell in love with a man named Peanut, drank too much banana and strawberry milk, sobbed my face off at the festival as korean grandmas bowed to me, tried tons of new foods (including the nastiest bowl of cheese ramyun ive ever had in my life), bought lots of socks, rode an airplane for......like 40 hours in total? literally the best week of my Life

- had my junior vocal recital ! it was a cute girl. i felt my acting had really improved since sophomore voice recital !! 

- had prom on my 17th birthday and had a jolly good time !!! my mom made my dress and i felt like a Stunner

- dream pt. 01...she rly is that Bad Bih. best era. miss her loads. none of us ever deserved her. 

- les mis !!!!!! two whole weeks.....another Best Time. i learned so much, made so many lifetime friends, had a blast, sang my heart out.....such a freaking good time. i miss her

- got to spend the ENTIRE summer with momo!!!!!!!!!!! literally the ENTIRE!!!!! and what did we do? hit the park, watched lemonade mouth and fantastic beasts and starstruck and that random unicorn movie, made the Best slime, made that ICONIC weki meki video, laughed a ton, cried a ton, stayed up all night for the sunrise, stayed later for the sunset & thunderstorm, walked home in the pouring rain & lightning (IT IS VERY WET), went to the beach, met many dogs, got me hairs cut, befriended that Cat, and went to a painting class

- cabin week !!!!!!!!!!! whatta lovely time

- my brother’s wedding !!!! honestly? my best outfit of the year... had a bangin time. his wife is truly a cutie and i love her tons!

- there was that Mess in august and i still feel sorry to those who felt hurt because of it. i learned a lot about how things especially on the internet can be easily misunderstood and misinterpreted, so u gotta be EXTRA careful with your words ! 

- through that i also came to accept that u cant get everyone to understand or like u, and tbh that is okay for now. all we can do when we make mistakes is try to understand & learn, apologize, and try to better ourselves. and sometimes even when u do that, u still may not be liked. and thats okay. as long as you are trying your best and recognize mistakes, its all good. 

-skinny dipped at girls time wow what a freaking TIME

- woah dude i dropped out of my arts school lmao!!! the BIGGEST change in my life since 2014.;..wow! i dont even have the words to say how much stress was lifted off of me and i love senior yr !!!!

- momo came to CT!!!!!! 

- seeing svt live !!!!! but tbh the best part was seeing momo, “I LOVE A MAN WHO CAN SEW”, “I!!!!!!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JIHOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, “IM UNDERAGE”, and when Mo BLASTED to that other line

- LAKE COMPOUNCE LMAOOOOO I LOVE JIHOON PT2!!!!

- my mom, sister, and i took an eight week painting class! i finished two paintings and learned a ton!! honestly a good time

- dream pt. 02.....shes that other Bad Bih....absolutely adore her

- i also learned that its okay to cut people off who are toxic. especially if you have already informed them that they make u feel bad, they are not worth trying to please or keep around. take care of yourself. similarly, its okay to block people, and you dont owe them an explanation

- MADI CAME HOME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my other half...missed her so much :(((

- riley’s calligraphy christmas !!!!! was so much fun and i loved people’s reactions and i loved learning arohas favorite astro lyrics !!!

- ah...............one of the hardest weeks of my whole life. the pain still lingers, and i know itll hit me again like a boulder the next time we see only four of my angels standing on stage. for four months, i was worried sick about another member, and i even knew he was hurting, that his mental illness was real. my heart aches and there is a piece of it missing, but it will never be replaced. i know you are much happier now, jjong. i love you. 

- and also because of that, i have been able to think a lot about how i live my life. thoughts like ‘am i watching out for my family and friends enough?’ ‘am i listening enough?’ ‘is this funny comment worth it?’ ‘am i happy?’ im trying to be better. to not take things for granted, to only be kind, to always be there for those i love, for those who love me. and i will try my hardest to not complain about small or petty inconveniences. to try harder to be optimistic. 

- christmas was with my whole family for the first time in five years ;;; she was such a cute girl!

and now on to the next act !!!! its called RILEY’S NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS !!!!!!!!!! 

1. lets start with the basic stuff that im 99% not gonna pull through on: keep ur room clean. keep everywhere u go clean, it makes mom upset. eat better, u know there is other foods in this house besides peanut butter and pepperoni and popcorn. 

2. send out at least one Lovely Ask per day. i made this goal sometime over the summer, and i did it for a few months until i started to forget ;; its not that hard, u just gotta remember to do it !! 

3. sis.....quit Procrastinating.......GET ur FREAKING application done...do ur homework the night before lmao! call who u need to !!! write those thank u cards!!!! go get them scholarships!!!! enter that graphic design contest lmao!!! just DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!! time is wasting

4. just be happy 

[dvddggs]

To the Four of Us (Part Sixteen)

premise: modern AU chronicling the squad as they make their way through college and deal with general life things.

soundtrack song: Alone Together - Fall Out Boy

full soundtrack: [i’ll post it here once its complete and uploaded to spotify or something!] note: if anyone has recommendations for songs for previous chapters, message me and I’ll dedicate a chapter to you!

words: 2,570

warnings: a lil smuttiness oops and some swears and a little blood ment i guess?? 

a/n: just so you can picture it better, the way alexander would be talking with his mouth wired shut would be like if you try talking while biting down/clenching your teeth ((this was v helpful for me in understanding this injury so there u go)) // not a lot happens buT here u go sinners!! (its not that bad but im preceding the risqué part with an asterisk [*] bc i know some of u are younger and i dont wanna make anyone uncomfortable!)

all chapters: x

tags: @heythereitsloey @anitheunicorn @newyorkyoucanbeanew @lafbagxette @justafangirlwithanavy @iamgrayfox @ordinaryornate @schuylerjoon @angelica-peggy-eliza @trashyperson101 @crazydragon15 @geespilots @marvelous-hamilfan @5p00kygh05t @panda-powers @and-maria @schokoobananaa @allthegoodurlshavebeentaken @aphboi @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @aham-threw-his-shot-away @hesitantcat @lafeyettegunsandships

dedication: @l0vedoesntdiscriminate for the soundtrack rec!!

soundtrack song: Alone Together - Fall Out Boy

full soundtrack: x

Alexander. Was. Miserable. His jaw had been wired shut for three days like some kind of monstrous animal and he was already counting down the time left until he was free (only 38 days and 6 hours to go). His father was staying in a hotel near his dorm to make sure he was getting enough food and adjusting to everything alright, despite Alexander’s insistence that he could go back home whenever he wanted.

Alexander also hadn’t been back to school yet because the last thing he wanted was for Thomas to see him like this, so he avoided his lectures and got the notes from acquaintances in each class.

His face still looked like a mangled mess, but it was improving slightly day by day. The first time he looked in the mirror, he had gasped in surprise at his reflection, hardly recognizing himself. He poked his cheek, wondering how in the hell it could possibly have swollen as much as it did. The violent purple that the side of his face had taken on from the bruising made him look like a boxing hero, but that was the only positive to an otherwise completely shitty situation. He’d taken a selfie and sent it to the group chat with the caption:

Alex: I look like Rocky. Y’all wish you were this cool.

As per usual, he did not get the response he’d been hoping for.

Herc: Alex you look like shit.

Laf: hate to say it, but i have to agree with herc on this one. you look like hell.

Alex: it’s not that bad…do you think i look like a hot tough guy, john?

John: …

Alex: fuck all of y’all.

Thankfully the swelling had gone down, meaning his eye had reopened, and the bruising had started to fade so now his face was just tinged a weird greenish-yellow.

Along with George, John had visited Alexander in the hospital every day, where he was stuck for “observational purposes” until he learned to live without use of his jaw. Hercules and Lafayette had visited twice, bringing soup that the two of them had made on the second day.

They strolled into the hospital room with four steaming containers and found John playing with the controls on Alexander’s hospital bed while Alexander worked on an essay. George stood staring out the window, speaking quietly on the phone about work.

“Hey y’all,” John said, to which Hercules raised an eyebrow. “Sorry…Lex’s dad is causing me to talk southern.”
 Lafayette snickered as Alexander beamed happily. For reasons that John didn’t understand, Alexander melted under the influence of his slight South Carolinian accent.

“We made tomato soup,” Lafayette yelled, ignoring George’s phone call.

“I made tomato soup. Laf drank a bottle of wine,” Hercules said, glancing apologetically at Alexander’s father.

“We only brought four bowls though,” Lafayette continued loudly. “Didn’t realize your dad was still here.”

“He can have mine,” Hercules said quickly, still mildly frightened of Alexander’s father.

Laughing, Alexander stuck his hands out, eager to ingest something other than the hospital's chicken noodle (of which he could only suck the broth through a straw, meaning he got no chicken and no noodles).

“How are you going to eat that?” John asked, taking a bowl for himself and passing one to Alexander. Hercules put down one of the four spoons he brought, looking slightly crestfallen. He hadn’t thought of that.

“A straw,” Alexander said bitterly. “It’s disgusting.”

John nodded in agreement as Alexander scowlingly swapped the straw from his cup of water to his bowl of soup. Lafayette started laughing as he sipped it, forcing George into the quiet hallway and earning Laf a punch on the arm from Hercules.

“So,” Alexander said, changing the subject before a fight erupted between Nervous Hercules and Wine Drunk Lafayette. “How’s school?”

Hercules shrugged before plopping down on the edge of the bed. “Ya know…school’s school. Turns out I bombed my bio midterm so I think it’s safe to say that I’m not going to be following a career in science.”

Lafayette glanced between Alexander and John; it was clear that he had no interest in what Hercules was saying.

“Okay,” he said. “It’s obvious as fuck that we are not here to talk about school. Has Thomas noticed you’re gone yet? Or is he just that much of an asshole?”

“He texted me last night,” Alexander mumbled, avoiding eye-contact with John.

“What?!” John yelled. “Why didn't you tell me, Lex?? If I’d known I could have PUMMELLED the guy.”

John stood up and punched the air angrily, making Lafayette laugh again.

“What did he say?” Hercules asked. His curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Alexander took his phone off of his nightstand, unlocked it, and handed it to John, who was quickly surrounded by Hercules and Lafayette.

He watched them read the conversation, only interrupted once by Lafayette who pointed at the screen and muttered, “What does ‘obsolete’ mean?” and Hercules’s answer, “It means ‘over as fuck.’”

Thomas: I’m sorry. —T

Alex: ok.

Thomas: Alex…can we please talk about what happened? —T

Alex: Honestly, Thomas, no. Fuck off. Don’t text me anymore.

Thomas: Are you at least okay?

Alex: YOU BROKE MY FUCKING JAW

Thomas: …holy shit

Thomas: Are you fucking serious?



Thomas: Alexander, I am so SO sorry

Thomas: I was really drunk…I don’t know…I thought I was fine with it. Then I saw john and the…marks on your neck. and I guess I just lost it for a second

Thomas: I mean, there’s no excuse for what I did…i’m so, so sorry.

Thomas: Is there anything I can do?

Thomas: Alexander…please say something.

Alex: Okay, fine. Here it is. I’m fucking done with this. YOU broke up with ME. I know what I did was wrong, okay? I fucking get it. I get why you dumped me, and it hurt, but I understand it. BUT after that, you don’t get to decide what I can and cannot do. After we broke up, I could do whatever the fuck I wanted, whether you liked it or not, because YOU made the decision that we were done. I get that it probably wasn’t the best way to find out, but jesus, Thomas, get a fucking grip. Our relationship was obsolete by the party, AND I apologized to you, in response to which you admitted that you probably overreacted. Which, considering we’d only been dating for a month, is kind of true if I’m being honest. So, don't text me anymore. I’m so fucking done.

Thomas: I hope your jaw is okay. I’m really sorry that things ended this way. Goodbye, Alexander.

“Whoa,” Hercules said.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this,” John exclaimed, handing Alexander his phone back. “You absolutely dragged the guy.”

Alexander shrugged and sipped at his soup, a slight smile on his face. Even though it wasn’t positive, he felt like he finally had closure with Thomas. He hoped that things would finally calm down a little bit.

“So when are you going to get out of here?” Lafayette asked.

“I think tonight,” Alexander replied as his father stepped back into the room.

“Yep,” said George, tucking his phone into his pocket. “The doctor is going to teach you how to keep that mouth clean—especially because of the cracked tooth—and then they’re going to discharge you tonight.”

Alexander’s friends beamed at him.

“By the way,” George continued, eyeing John. “I’m pretty sure that one of the key aspects of keeping clean is going to be no kissing.”

John whipped around to look at Alexander with mortified, wide eyes, which made Alexander burst into laughter. At the sudden movement, however, he felt the wires binding his teeth together rip at the inside of his cheeks as the taste of blood burst onto his tongue.

“Shit,” he mumbled, spitting blood into the crumpled up napkin beside his bed. Lafayette mimed throwing up and John made a face, while Hercules passed him a fresh glass of water.

“Oh,” he said, turning to George. “Would you like some soup, sir? I made it for Alexander.”
 “That’s really nice of you, son, but I’m going to have to pass for now. Alex, if it’s okay with you I’m going to head back to the hotel. They’re having a meeting and want to FaceTime me in so I don’t miss it. I’ll be back tonight to say goodbye before I head to the airport, okay?”

Alexander nodded, gripping his cheek in pain. George kissed the top of his hair—which hadn’t been washed in too long—and waved goodbye to his friends as he threw on his coat and headed out.

Hercules sighed in relief as soon as the door shut and popped the lid off the last bowl of soup. “Thank god,” he said. “I’m starving.”

“Herc,” Alexander laughed. “My dad isn’t scary!”

John wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you kidding me?” he said. “Did you see the look on his face when he said ‘no kissing’? He practically knifed me with his eyes!”

Lafayette, still tipsy, doubled over with laughter as his friends stared at him, amused. The four of them hung out for around another hour, talking about school and nothing else particularly important just to keep Alexander company while he worked on his paper.

“Okay, I’m gonna get this one home before he wakes up the entire hospital,” Hercules said, grabbing Laf’s wrist and guiding him to the door. “Are you coming, John?”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay here for a bit. I’ll just bus home later.”

“Thanks for the soup, Herc…and Laf,” Alexander said smiling.

Hercules nodded in response as he left, Lafayette still cackling as he trailed behind.

“He’s fucking nuts,” John mused, giggling.

Alexander nodded and grabbed John’s hand, which was sitting on Alexander’s thigh. “Are you scared of my dad?”

“Um, kinda, yeah. Lex, have you seen the guy? He’s huge. Like, huge. He takes no shit, I can tell.”

Alexander raised his eyebrows, smiling. “Then don’t dole out any shit.”

John shrugged at the argument—fair enough. His smile quickly turned to a pout as he stared at Alexander’s lips. “I wanna kiss you. As soon as he said we couldn’t kiss, all I wanted to do was kiss you.”

“You’re quite the advocate for wanting what you can’t have, aren’t you?” Alexander asked, referencing himself.

“But so far, I’m also pretty good at getting what I can't have,” John murmured, leaning in closer.

“John,” Alexander warned.

“Stop me if it hurts,” John whispered before he gently brought their lips together.

Alexander kissed him hungrily, not minding the low-grade pain he felt in the background. In fact, he almost liked it. He knew that his father would be back soon, using Alexander as an excuse to leave the meeting, which only made him want more of this faster.

John climbed up on the bed and pulled the sheets aside, straddling Alexander in his sweatpants and hospital gown.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. As hot as it would be to make out—or more—in a hospital room, Alexander did have a broken jaw. When Alex nodded, John smiled, biting his lip, and bent down to kiss Alexander’s neck. John could feel him suppressing a moan so he nipped at his ear, hoping that he’d vocalize it.

He did.

“Shh,” John said. He hopped off Alexander and pulled the curtain around the bed so that no one would see them immediately if they entered the room.

When he climbed back on the bed, he could feel Alexander grind his hips against John’s, craving friction. John raised an eyebrow in aroused amusement.

“Eager tonight, are we?”

Alexander squirmed, moaning through his teeth.

“We were supposed to fuck after the party the other night, remember?”

“But you went and got punched in the face,” John said solemnly, moving his hips downward to meet with Alex’s.

“Yeah,” Alexander said as his eyes grew lustful. “You owe me.”

* - sinning starts here - *

He could feel John grow hard through his jeans, which made his eyes darken and his stomach tighten in anticipation. He was readily willing to ignore the wires around his teeth just so he could make out with John, craving the contact of their lips and their tongues together. Every time they touched it was like sparks crackled between them.

“Fuck,” John breathed as he reached up Alexander’s hospital gown to rest his hands on his chest. “You should take this off.”

Alexander pulled the tie and let it slip off his shoulders, tossing it behind him and onto the plastic headboard. John grinned, planting kisses down Alexander’s chest.

“John, he moaned.

“Shh,” John repeated through a smirk. “Save the talking.”

Alexander nodded, throwing his head back in pleasure as John travelled down towards his stomach and to the hem of his sweatpants. He stopped, glancing up at Alexander with a smirk on his face, chin resting on his hipbone.

“Pl—” Alexander was cut off by John, who clapped his hand over his mouth.

“I said,” John growled, “don’t talk.”

Alexander squeezed his lips together, and ran his fingers through John’s hair as John worked his way back downward. He licked his lips and looked up at Alexander, waiting to see if he could continue. When Alexander nodded, John made quick work of pulling his sweatpants off and tossing them aside, leaving Alexander lying in his boxers, absolutely desperate for contact. He kept his mouth shut as John teased him, kissing his inner thighs and running his tongue slowly along the line of his underwear. Alexander whined loudly and circled his hips, hoping he could redirect John’s attention to a better spot than his stomach, but this only made John chuckle and shake his head slowly. He was testing Alexander’s patience.

Alexander almost screamed in relief as John’s hand made contact with him through his boxers. He didn’t care about not talking anymore as he breathed out a few choice swear words, which even made John moan quietly.

* - ur safe u made it - *

Just as John began to pull at Alexander’s waistband to tug it downward, the door creaked open, making Alexander gasp and John recoil frantically.

“Alex, did you fall asleep?” came his father’s voice through the curtain. John’s eyes flung open wide as he threw Alexander his sweats and jumped off the bed, attempting to smooth down his dishevelled hair.

“Fuck,” John mouthed as Alexander tripped pulling on his pants.

“Alex?” George repeated at the sound of his knee colliding with the floor. “I’m coming in.”

Alexander shrugged—there was nothing they could do—as his father pulled the curtain aside.

George sighed at the scene in front of him. Alexander’s hair was matted to the back of his head, his face was bright red, and he was shirtless. John’s hair was frantically messy, Alexander having tousled and tugged it into oblivion only seconds earlier, and he was staring at the ground, also bright red. He folded his hands together behind his back and avoided eye contact with George. As they stared straight ahead, they could see the hospital gown slide off the bed and onto the floor with a soft thump.

George stared at the boys for half a second before throwing his hands in the air and walking back out the door.

Behind him, he called, “Really? In the hospital?”