(1) "Wait, Never?" Richie's Eyes Just About Bug Out Of His Skull, And Eddie Feels His Stomach Churn.

(1) "Wait, never?" Richie's eyes just about bug out of his skull, and Eddie feels his stomach churn. He regrets EVERYTHING. He's not even drunk! The others are at least tipsy, he's pretty sure, except maybe Mike. Their first real big weekend home from their respective colleges, the only thing Eddie had felt he needed to be drunk on was getting to see everyone's faces again, getting to be near them all. At least he and Richie are together, but they've both missed the other Losers.

(2) At least, Eddie had been missing them all, up until someone brought up sex, and Richie had been drunk enough that he’d blurted out he really was a virgin, after posturing since twelve or thirteen about his ‘expertise’, but then he’d mentioned making out with a girl in his drama class and the conversation had softened a little from that panic-inducing place, to dating and kissing, and Eddie had gone and admitted, stone cold sober, that he’d never done even that.

(3) “It’s not a big deal.” He huffs, except by now they’ve all had experience kissing, and it feels like maybe it is, and Bev and Stan both look contrite and Bill and Mike and Ben are all trying to be encouraging, nodding and talking over each other to say the right one is just around the corner and he shouldn’t rush himself just to tick kissing off a checklist, he should wait until he meets a girl he really wants to kiss, and he doesn’t know how to say that’s the problem, even to himself.

(4) “Fuck that, I’ll kiss you right now!” Richie says, pushing his way into the spot next to Eddie, worming between him and Bill, his hand warm on Eddie’s cheek, tempting. He could chalk it up to Richie being stupid, he could laugh it off after, just Richie making a joke. He could let him, and then he’d know what it was like… and then the scent of alcohol wafts into his face and he pulls back. Drunk. Richie is drunk and Eddie is sober, and Eddie knows exactly what he’s doing, but does Richie?

(5) “Gross, no.” He pushes him gently away. “You’re going to burp into my mouth– if you don’t vomit up booze all over me, you animal. No– Bill and the guys are right, someone… someone will want to kiss me. That’s when I’ll know it’s the right time, when– when someone wants to do it. When someone– Ugh, I’m cutting you off, you’re a mess. No more drinks for Richie, sober you would be appalled at your behavior.”

(6) The others laugh it off– Bill is quick to agree that Richie must be ready to call it a night and to take his glass away, and to leave him in Eddie’s keeping, and the conversation turns to easier subjects, to things that don’t leave Eddie nauseated, that don’t make his heart pound and his palms sweat. He doesn’t want to kiss a girl, especially not sober, maybe he’s better off not kissing anyone after all. He weakly cites germs before talk turns to classes, and the others accept it.

(7) In the morning, Eddie goes to make breakfast in Mike’s kitchen, since they’d all crashed in his little apartment, and he expects to have the morning to himself, given he’s the only one who hadn’t gotten drunk over the course of the night. They might not all have killer hangovers, but he suspects even Mike will appreciate a little quiet time to sleep in, and maybe an aspirin. He’s surprised when it’s Richie of all people who pads quietly into the room to pour himself some orange juice.

(8) “Hey, are you making pancakes? Make me some and I’ll do eggs.” He bargains, starting the coffee pot up. His hair is wild and his glasses slip down his nose and his pajama bottoms hang low on his hips. When he stretches, Eddie can see the dark line of hair leading down from his navel and he tells himself it’s wrong, the way he looks, but he looks. Eventually, he notices Eddie staring– mercifully not at that part of him. “Hey, flip that before it burns. What?”

(9) 'Oh, nothing’, Eddie thinks, feeling slightly hysterical. 'I’m just noticing your body and your skin and your hair and all the ways I want to touch you, because I’m sick and I’m dirty and you’re perfect and I wanted to take advantage of you last night, did you know that?’– but he can’t say that. He clears his throat, for all the good it does him. “I’m just surprised you don’t have a fucking killer hangover, dude, but okay, if you make me some, I’ll make you some. Put cheese in mine.”

(10) “I know how to make scrambled eggs.” Richie scoffs. And then his cheeks go pink and his expression softens. “I wasn’t really that drunk. Last night. I was just nursing one real drink, mostly. I– I– There’s just so much shit you can’t say sober, not even to your closest friends, and… I don’t know. I thought maybe if I was just a little– I could be a little buzzed and fake it, and everyone would forget anyway. But I was still– I still couldn’t– tell you the thing I never told you.”

(11) “You said you would kiss me.” Eddie has to take his pan off the burner, because he is not going to be able to pay attention to pancakes. His heart is in his throat and he loathes himself so completely, but he loves Richie more. He wants Richie more. He feels sick with himself, but not at the thought of germs. “Richie, you said– And you weren’t?– Richie, did you want to kiss me?”

(12) “Only if you want.” Richie shrugs, but Eddie can see it in the way Richie looks him up and down, hungry. But… hungry in a nice way, in a way he likes. A way that makes his own hunger feel safe. “The– the girl, from drama– it wasn’t– I didn’t– She wasn’t you. Nobody’s you, and I– It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’d just– If you did, I would. If you wanted anything in the world, I would. Since we were kids, if you wanted anything in the world, I would.”

(13) “I want you.” Eddie says, and then Richie is kissing him, sweetly and slowly, his hands cupping Eddie’s face. He has such big hands, he’s so big and he makes Eddie feel so safe. The kiss is unhurried, undemanding, and there are a lot of things Eddie might want that he isn’t ready for, but Richie doesn’t push any of those. He only kisses him until he’s dizzy with it, and then he pulls away with a soft sound, with a warm sigh.

(14/14) “Then I’m yours.” He says, before breaking away. He gives Eddie a smile, one of those secret smiles he never seems to give anybody else, and then he turns to the eggs and the shredded cheese and the butter in his own pan. The world keeps on turning– he’d kissed a boy and the world keeps turning! “You can have another one of those any time. Two eggs?”