Work Text:
I don't care what song we play
Or mess we make
Just company now
Comfort crowd
It was unusual for Richard Michael Tozier to be alone on a Friday evening. Richie wasn't unpopular, he had some pretty good friends, and he was pretty good looking too, once he took his glasses off. Yet here he was, sitting on his front porch, listening to the sound of laughing children getting called in by their parents as the sunlight began to dim. It was that part of the summer when you couldn't help but think about fall and the ever-approaching date that marked the beginning of the school year.
Speaking of fall, at that very moment, Richie was wondering what he would dress up as for Halloween that year. Last year, he hadn't put much effort into a costume, simply putting on a werewolf mask and ripped t-shirt. His parents had been a little worried at this apparent lack of enthusiasm for his favorite holiday. He had convinced them that he was just growing out of it. Only babies dress up to go trick-or-treating, he said.
In reality, Richie still loved Halloween. He just didn't want to go through the pains of elaborately designing a fake monster when he had just killed one.
Surprisingly, Richie didn't think about killing Pennywise all that often. He only thought of It at night when he was alone and couldn't sleep. Whenever Richie thought about It, he started to think about the Losers Club. It was funny, really, that for that summer of 1989, Richie felt as though he belonged. Even though he was fighting for his life half the time, it was still one of the best times of Richie's life. This summer didn't even come close, even if you forgot about the child-eating monster. Beverly had left right around when school started. Stanley now went to that private school across town. Mike was still homeschooled, and his grandfather had given him even more responsibility around the farm, so they hardly ever hung out. Ben had left in late February for Florida because of his mom's job. Bill was almost a different person now, as if finding out what had happened to Georgie had changed him. While he was really the person who had brought everyone together last summer, now he seemed... Distant. Aloof. Untouchable. And Eddie was... Well, it's probably best not to think about Eddie.
Whenever he thought about the Losers Club, Richie inevitably began to think about the blood pact. It didn't seem likely that It would come back, but who knows? Certainly not Richie. Richie felt the long scar along his palm with his thumb. Richie liked his scar. It looked badass, and, if nothing else, it was a reminder of the best summer of his life. Richie thought that, as long as he had the scar, he would remember everything. Of course, like he had been about so many other things, Richie was wrong.
It was starting to get dark, but Richie was bored so he started walking. It wasn't like there was still a curfew that could stop him. He walked and walked and eventually realized that he was at the kissing bridge. Richie stopped when he recognized the carving.
R+E
Before today, Richie had tried to avoid the kissing bridge. While the scar on his palm was a reminder of the happy days before the Losers Club started falling apart, the kissing bridge represented that part of the summer when everything had seemed to go wrong.
As he stood there, Richie thought about Eddie. He wished he were here. He would even let Eddie put on his crappy music and use the hammock for as long as he wanted if he were here. If Richie could just make himself talk to Eddie... If only Eddie hadn't caught him kissing that boy behind the school. It hadn't even been that great of a kiss. Richie had been thinking about Eddie during it, and hadn't kissed that boy since. Or anyone, for that matter.
Richie knew Eddie had seen him, even though Eddie never mentioned it. It was obvious because, since then, Eddie had avoided him like the plague. Eddie didn't talk to him in the hallways anymore. Eddie didn't confide in Richie about how terrible his most recent date with Myra had been. Eddie didn't even mention any random health statistics to him, even though they were lab partners. Richie wasn't one to jump to conclusions, but, to him, it was very apparent what had happened.
Richie didn't even try to strike up a conversation anymore. What was the use? The "your mom" jokes would only make things more awkward between the two of them. Richie had never been good at serious conversations or confrontation, in part because most confrontation required serious conversation. And so the lonely days turned into lonely weeks, which turned into lonely months. Now, Richie was mere days away from moving across the country, and he still hadn't talked to Eddie. Perhaps it was better this way, Richie thought. This way, he didn't have to hear what his ex-best friend thought about his sexuality. This way, there was not chance that Richie could mess up their relationship even more by revealing that he had been in love with Eddie since last summer.
After Richie had finally gone home, and a few days passed, Richie stared out the window of the car. It was finally happening. Richie was moving out of Derry. As Richie caught a final glimpse of the 'Welcome to Derry' sign, a few tears dripped down his face. Richie wished that it was still the summer of 1989. He wished he was playing Streetfighter with Mike, Eddie droning on about how many germs must be on that machine, Stan and Bev having a petty argument in the background, and Bill and Ben getting ice cream for everyone. He wished that he still had his real friends. He wished for Eddie. He wished for company.
He wished for his comfort crowd.