VIII

Always Forever | Cults

trigger warning//offensive slurs

"Hey Richie?" Eddie says.

"Yeah Eds?" Richie responded, awaiting the question. Richies storm rumbled above him. His clouds had been especially gloomy today for some reason, and it hovered right over his head like it always did.

Eddie doesn't answer for a long time, and for a split second Richie is sure his heart has stopped beating, and that bad news may be approaching.

"Do you ever think that-..." his eyes hadn't strayed from the sparkling sky, and he'd trailed off as if the thought left his mind like nothing was there in the first place.

The only sounds heard were his breaths, coming out in puffs of cold smoke before them, the crickets chirping in the grass, and the billowing thunder coming from atop Richies head. Eddie glanced to him, biting at his lip, but Richie already had his gaze turned upwards, looking back at him. His eyes were expectant. What was he going to say? Light flickered and thunder boomed quietly from above his head, and Richie quickly grew a little self-conscious of how loud his clouds were getting.

Eddie only stared down. For a second he merely focused on the ground, but then he looked up into Richies eyes. His expression was warm, knowing, comfortable. A small smile, barely noticeable if it weren't for the slowly curling twitch in the corner of his lip.

Eddie opened his mouth again, and Richie raised his eyebrows, watching how his lips contorted into a variety of shapes that could have and may as well have been him talking to himself under his breath. Richie waited...

...

"Do you ever think that maybe this world just isn't meant for you?" Eddie says finally. Richie watches Eddies gaze drop, his expression falter. His heart aches at the sight.

"Yeah," Richie nods softly, his eyes not straying away from Eddie "Yeah sometimes I feel like that too."

And it was true. After all, Richie was the only one in this boring old town who had these stupid clouds hovering over his hair. It's all that made him the odd one out his entire life. They were just too much. Too bold. And everyone hated him for it.

When he was happy, motivated, they'd shine bright and excited, and any emotion other than that was clouds, fog, and sometimes even thunder and lightning. He remembers the one time when he was eight years old that his clouds had rained all over him, making his curls all wet and his shoulders damp. It was merely a few minutes after Henry Bowers had tormented him about a drawing he made in class. Him as a stick figure, a smile spread wide on his face as the clouds over him had cleared into a rainbow.

That had never really happened in real life, but Richie liked to think that it was possible for his clouds to do that for him. If they were gonna torment him for the rest of his life, they might as well make it pretty.

Richie had always tried not to think about it though. Most of the time. But even then, when he'd try to block it out of his mind, the fog or thunder or clouds would grow, and people would laugh anyway.

But now that Eddie has said it, it's like he suddenly gets it now. The clouds looming over him stop it's noise, and although they're still heavy with drowsiness, it's like all the fog has figuratively left from around him, and he can see clearly. For the first time in, well... forever.

Eddie notices the clouds calming, and the way that Richies eyes widen slowly with realization, and he just smiles knowingly. Same as before. It bothers Richie a little, how Eddie looks like he knows the secrets to the universe and more, but is deciding to just stare at him like the way he is now.

Richie blinks dumbfoundedly, and becomes acutely aware of the way he finds himself staring at Eddies mouth. Before he can stop himself, he's leaning in and latching his lips onto Eddies.

His head is spinning, but at the same time, it feels almost like the fog has cleared over him. His eyes are closed, but he swears if he had to guess, he was sure that there was a rainbow shining over his raven curls.

And Eddies lips. Oh god they're soft and feel fucking perfect the way they fit with Richies, and he doesn't even process what the hell he's doing till he's jolting up on his bed, breathing hard and head thrumming with the sound of his alarm clock. Wait...

WHAT. THE. FUCK!!!

——

Richie skids onto the pavement of the front of Derry High and sets his bike down. On the way over, he contemplated not meeting the others in the library like they always did. He was still too shooken up about his dream this morning. What the absolute fuck was that?!

He'd tried not to think too deeply of it while he was getting ready for school. Afraid that he'd overthink it and have some insane and stupid revelation that would make his behavior too noticeable with his friends. He decided to hold it off for a better time, hoping to convince himself that there would be one eventually.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and pushed open the doors to the library. Immediately the loud bickering noises of his friends came into earshot. It was still empty aside from the six teens all scattered around the room, and Ben was the first to find him entering.

"Richie, you're here!" Ben beams, smiling as he rolls over a cart of books in front of him.

Richie smirks happily and snatches a book from the stack, examining it and feigning interest. "Heya, Benny Boy, anything I can help with?"

Ben takes it back with a chuckle and puts it back on the cart. "Well sure! Mike probably has a job for you up at the counter" he smiles, waving Richie off as he skips his way across the room.

He approaches the counter with a jump in his step, where Mike is scanning books quick like muscle memory. "Mikeyyy, give me the deets! What's my assignment on this fine morning, eh?" he isn't sure what type of accent that supposed to be, but he drums on the counter and watches Mike shake his head with a smile anyway.

"Well, there's two options," Mike says, and Richie listens intently. "You can either work on shelving with Eddie," he points to the very back of the room, where Richie supposes Eddie is behind a shelf somewhere. He tenses and gestures for Mike to go on.

"Or I was about to have Bev go take out the trash, but I'm sure you don't-"

"I'll take garbage duty, Micheal!" Richie says almost immediately. Smiling and trying not to seem too eager to avoid Eddie at all costs.

Mike eyes him confusedly, but nods and points him in the direction of Beverly, who is already shrugging a large trash bag over her shoulder in front of the double doors.

"Bevvy, my dahling" Richie humms like a song, his hands held to his chest dramatically as he strolls over to the red haired girl. Beverly snorts and turns around.

"Move your ass, Tozier, there's a spare trash bag here just for you!" she says sweetly. Richie groans but picks it up still. Anything to keep his distance from the thing that ought to remind him of what he had dreamt of last night. Whatever that was meant to be.

They walk out of the library and head for the bulky back door, leading to the back of the school, which is only a hall away thankfully. Richie was never exactly the strongest of the bunch, and the trash bag slung over his shoulder was already starting to feel heavier as they trudged down the hall.

Bev kicked open the back door, and Richie quickly got hit with the smelly scent of the garbage bins below them. There was a small ramp that led to the end of the building, and the garbage bins were placed just under the ramp. All they had to do now was throw it out.

Bev and Richie toss them over the ramp while complaining about the smell, a swarm of flies emerging then dissipating as the trash fell.

"Smoke?" Beverly queries, holding out her pack of cigarettes to Richie.

"Boy, do I?" he says, reaching for one. "We should get away from this fucking smell though" he says, grimacing as they make their way further down the ramp.

Down here, at the edge of the building, you can see the bleachers of the football field, and Bev easily settles herself into the spot, leaning on the side of the wall and lighting her cigarette.

She lights Richies, and they quickly fall into conversation.

"Bill is so sweet, my god, but... I don't know, he's just being really nice to me. Like, really really nice." Beverly chuckles as a puff of smoke leaves her lips. Richie smirks.

"Billy boy's got a crush!" Richie sighs with fake dreaminess, laughing when Beverly shoves at him hard off the wall.

Her cheeks bloom with blotches of red, and she rolls her eyes. "Maybe, but I don't know" she says shrugging.

"I don't... really think I like him like that" she mutters, kicking lightly at the gravel under their feet. Richie hums in understanding.

There were rare times that Beverly actually indulged in talking about boys with him, especially ever since that dumb rumor spread about her back in freshman year. Who? Well, Henry Bowers had done it, that's who. That asshole. Richie swore he'd roundhouse kick any prepubescent boy that broke her heart from the start of 8th grade, but this wasn't even that level. That wasn't even in the ballpark. From then on out, people called her names as they walked through the halls, and no matter how many people Richie could flip off or spew a genius insult at, it just kept coming. After that year, it settled down a little, but only a little. Still even now, Beverly will get whispers and comments thrown at her by Greta Keene or others. Richie is always grateful that she's comfortable enough with him to talk about things like this.

"I dunno, Rich" she says wearily, tapping the ash off her cigarette. "Stan and Bill have had tension for like a week already. They barely even talk unless it's arguing!

"I'm worried that it's because of me..." she mutters, running a hand through her fiery curls. Richie shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

"Nah, they're just acting like an old married couple, y'know? They ought to be fine soon, I just know it" Richie nods. He's saying it for Beverly, because he knows something really is going on between them, but it's only a matter of time before someone actually does something about it.

"It's not your fault" Richie assures, bumping his shoulder into Beverlys playfully. She smiles and gives in, nodding back with a soft 'okay fine'.

"I had a dream last night," Richie blurts, cursing himself internally for his running mouth. Now he has to actually talk about it, or else she'll poke at it for the rest of forever.

She gives him a look as if to go on, and he sighs. "Well, I had this cloud over my head," he says, "Like, literal weather was stuck over me" he laughs, subconsciously reaching for the top of his head.

"But I had already had it all my life. Like, I didn't even question why it was there in the first place. And no one else had one either" he explains, pursing his lips and staring off in thought.

He contemplated telling Beverly about Eddie even being there at all, but it seemed to risky. What would she say? Would she hate him? It's a little weird to say that someone you've known for only a few weeks was in a dream of yours. No question about it, Richie was sure as hell going to keep his mouth shut about that last part. He'd probably take it to his grave if he had to.

"And?" Beverly queried, interested nonetheless. Richie had finally noticed that he had been staring and the floor for the last few seconds.

"I- I don't know, that's kind of it. People made fun of me and stuff, and the weather on it was always stormy or foggy. When I was happy though, it was sunny, but everyone still hated seeing it" he shrugged.

Beverly hummed, "That's probably got something to do with your psyche, Trashmouth," she said, flicking him on the forehead as she spoke.

He frowned. "What? What the hell does that mean?" he asks.

Beverly: Your psyche, dude. Somethings bothering you in the soul!

Richie: What? No, nothing's 'bothering me in the soul', idiot.

They laughed together, and Richie stubbed out his cigarette on the brick wall. "But seriously, man, that's definitely a sign that you've got something going on. Something that's probably been there since the very beginning" Beverly says as they make their way back up the ramp.

Richie bites his lip, troubled, and subconsciously reaches his fingers up to ghost over them. They're definitely chapped from all the cold weather, but for a second he presses his fingers to his bottom lip and lets himself remember it. The kiss. He needs to come to terms with it. Maybe it wasn't all that ba-

"Hey, Trashmouth! Ringwald!" Bill exclaimed as they reentered the library. Students were already quietly beginning to filter in, and soon enough the bell would ring.

Beverly flipped him off as he came to embrace her in a joking hug. Richie watched Stan from afar, who was sorting books into shelves, roll his eyes and look away.

"Richie! Hey, what's up?" Eddie grinned as he hopped over to where Richie had been standing by the couches.

"You didn't even say hi when you got here. Anyways, I was thinking," Eddie starts, slumping into a chair backwards to face Richie. "Y'know, we have our first rehearsal in class today, right? I made a notebook that I can write my fake lines and blocking in, color code everything and even-"

Richie accidentally tuned him out, too focused on smiling back convincingly, and too busy keeping his eyes up and not to any other body part of his that would remind him of his morning.

Eddie babbled on for another few minutes and Richie found it easier and easier to stay normal as he talked to him. Eddie had that effect on people. Made them comfortable.

The bell rang abruptly, and the losers easily huddled up by the double doors, ready to say their goodbyes for the beginning of the day and head to class. Richie threw his backpack onto his shoulder.

"Well well well," a loud voice spoke from behind them. "If it isn't the best crossover episode of freaks in all of Derry High history."

The losers collectively sighed and turned their heads to be met with Henry Bowers. His goons stood beside him, laughing.

Students in the library subtly watched from the sidelines, and everyone was quiet for a moment till Richies mouth opened, too quick for himself to register what he was saying.

"Could you be any more cliche? Honestly, Hen, step up your game, wouldja?"

Richie heard a few people gasp from around him, and some even laughed. He felt Eddie elbow him in the ribs, and a quiet noise from him that he could only understand as "fucker".

Stan and Beverly were used to this by now, used to bickering back at Bowers when he picked on them, but Bill and Ben... absolutely not. They typically just sucked it up until Bowers left them alone, but now in this case with Richies running mouth, they were left terrified. Bill tugged on Beverlys sleeve, "Let's just go, this can't be going anywhere good" he whispered.

"Oh yeah, Tozier? Well let see, why don't we, what do we have here..." Henry trails off, clicking his tongue judgmentally as he crossed over and into the losers' space.

"We've got Stuttering Buh-buh-buh Bill, Tits over here, Midnight" he went down the line of losers, naming all of them with a snarl on his face. Bill, Ben, Mike.

"We've got the Slut, the fucking Jew, the little fag," Richie halted. Did Bowers just call Eddie a fag? Does... If... Is Eddie actually gay? Of course, Eddie had already told him up front that he was straight, but, wouldn't anyone that's like that say so in this town?

"And of course," Bowers smiled sadistically, "Trashmouth." he spat evilly, grimacing. "In fact, you're probably a fucking faggot too. No surprise there. Always knew your head was screwed on the wrong way".

He could feel Eddies eyes boring into his side in the corner of his vision, but all he could do was feign annoyance and try his hardest to get out of this stupid situation.

With how close Henry was to his face, threatening and menacing, any other boy in school would just punch him straight away, but Richie had plenty more patience than that. And besides, his fucking mouth was his weapon after all.

"Just fuck off, Bowers. I'm sure you've got your dad to blow back at home anyways" he smirked. Henry fumed, his nostrils flaring in front of Richie as his face grew a maddening shade of red.

"Richie, you idiot" Eddie muttered into his shoulder as he slowly stepped further away.

"You're really about to regret that, Trashmouth" Henry growled. But it was too late, Richie already regretted ever opening his mouth since birth. And before he knew it, he felt a hot stinging pain on his nose as a fist connected with his face.

Richies ears rung loudly and his head thrummed with pain, he heard distant shouts and arguing. Possibly Beverly talking, or maybe Bill, he couldn't tell, and he couldn't even process much at all of what was happening around him till he felt a hand pulling at his sleeve, ushering him away from the situation at hand and pushing him out of the library. Richie could not exactly tell who it was, too fucked in the face to even care, but whoever it was, they were spewing a whole fucking monologue to him about something. Again, Richie could care less.

He could feel fluids beginning to gush out of his nose, and he instinctively held his hand up to his nose to keep it from getting everywhere. The hand pulling continued leading him somewhere unknown, and in the midst of tripping on his own shoelaces, he tried speaking to them. All that came out were mumbled incoherent noises that the person couldn't help but laugh at. And immediately he recognized that laugh from somewhere. It was Eddie. Of course it was Eddie, what more could go worse today?

Soon, Richie felt Eddie lead him onto a cushioned chair, or a bed of some kind. Richie's left eye felt heavy, and at this point he could barely open it without pain shooting into every part of his damn face. He surely knows by now that hes screwed up, but he couldn't hear anyone else around, besides the ringing in his ear and the rambling from Eddie in front of him.

"I swear to fucking god, Rich, you absolute idiot" Eddie shook his head, leaving Richie on the nurses office bed and closing the door. Richie couldn't bring himself to be offended by being called such a thing right now as he usually would, because all he really felt like doing was laughing. So he did. The adrenaline rush finally got to him, and his hiccups of laughter

He must've sounded like an absolute maniac with the way he was giggling and smiling like a drunk on New Years eve, but that's all he could bring himself to do, and Eddie just watched him with a worried look on his face. Which truly only made him laugh harder.

"Richie please hold yourself together, for the love of god" Eddie shook his head, smirking and turning away to get something. Richie quickly tried to calm himself down, but still a few bursts of bubbly giggles would leave his system every now and then from the rush of it all. Eddie returned shortly with cotton balls and a bottle of some kind.

"You honestly could've gotten yourself killed talking to Bowers that way, or worse, fucking expelled" Eddie rolled his eyes, approaching Richie, who sat perched on the edge of the bed.

"Sorry Eds, but what else were we meant to do, just walk away?" Richie shook his head, causing the pain in his face to immediately return to his current thoughts. Eddie carefully slipped his large-lensed glasses off of the bridge of his nose, and Richie tried not to wince at his glasses coming in contact with the cuts just slightly.

"Yes! That's exactly what we're meant to do, Richie! Avoid the fucking conflict!" Eddie whined angrily, huffing and wetting the cotton ball with the substance in the bottle. Richie frowned, sighing loudly.

Eddie moved closer to Richie, settling himself just in front of his face so that Richie had to tilt his head just slightly up to look at him. Eddie smiled just a little, coyly, and placed a gentle hand just below Richies jaw, lifting his face to get a better look at the damage.

He quickly began dabbing the wet cotton ball on Richies face, which was currently battered in small cuts and bruises, and especially his nose and eye. Henry struck just between the two, and left Richies nose practically crooked and his eye practically swollen shut.

Richie hissed slightly, but kept himself from retracting from Eddies care, assuring himself that Eddie knew what he was doing.

With his good eye, Richie gazed back up at Eddie and frowned slightly. "I couldn't possibly just ignore him, Eds, he was fucking torturing us" Richie spoke up from the silence, just quiet enough for it to sound like nearly a whisper.

Eddie didn't stop his work, only took half a second to look back into his eye, and gave no response.

"He called you a fag, Eddie" Richie says seriously. And this time Eddie pauses. He avoids Richie's gaze for a long time, but eventually sighs and shakes his head.

"That... that's just Bowers being Bowers" Eddie says, straightening up and focusing back on Richies nose. "Besides, he called you that too".

It didn't have any hint of query at the end of his sentence at all, but nevertheless it still almost sounded more like a question than anything else. An unspoken conversation hidden underneath.

"Wh-," Richie laughed nervously, "What? You're right, it's just Bowers being Bowers I guess" he nods, letting Eddie resume his patchwork on him. He had nowhere else to look but at Eddie as the small hand under his chin held his head up tautly. He practically had no other choice but to stare and Eddies features, and that quickly made it harder and harder to forget his dream. Forget Eddie. For a split second, he could practically feel the weight of a cloud heavy over his head as he stared into Eddies eyes, which were fixed on the cut just over the bridge of Richies nose.

He wasn't sure how Eddie knew how to clean cuts so well, or why he even knows exactly where tools are in the nurses office, but he lets himself forget for a little while as he explores more into the little curves and crevices of Eddie. Their faces were inches away, and Eddies too-focused eyes made him smile slightly.

Richies eyes trailed from the golden flecks in his brown eyes to the freckles just under them. He noticed that the prominent dots on his cheeks were all in the same spots as they were when Richie had first examined them, and he was unsure as to why it brought him such comfort to know where they stood on his adorable tinted cheeks. He wonders if anyone else has seen Eddies freckles so closely the way he has before.

It oddly pleases him to know that nobody else knows Eddie the way he does. Maybe Bill, but Bill likely hasn't seen Eddie this close before. Hasn't seen the way his button nose twitches every so often when he's focused deeply on something like playing piano or cleaning cuts. Hasn't heard the way his voice gets quiet and floaty when he's asking a question under the stars, or the way his eyes light up when he learns something new about his elective with Richie. He doubts Bill has seen the way he looks at Eddie like he's the entire universe and more.

Eddie turns away abruptly to fetch something from the cabinets, and Richie jumps out of his daze, blinking confusedly with the sudden loss of touch.

Eddie returns with small band aids, colorful ones unfortunately. They shine neon against Eddies tan fingers, and Richie is sure they'll look even more vibrant stuck to his pale face. What a delight.

The hand on Richies face returns, Eddie having to still Richies movements to get the band aid on right. Eddie smirks shyly at the way Richies eyes subtly slip shut, the way he sighs quietly and nuzzles desperately into his touch, his heart doing backflips at the way Richies curls flop to the side with his head movement.

He puts a neon green band aid over the bridge of Richies nose, and snorts to himself quietly. Richie opens his eyes and furrows his brows with a smile.

"What?" he frowns playfully, trying to stay calm because Eddie has just seen how fucking pathetic and desperate he is when a hand touches his face. God, what an idiot you are, Richie.

"Nothing, just- you look ridiculous with these band aids, Rich, I cannot deny" Eddie giggles, placing a small neon pink one right on the cut under his nearly busted eye. It was now blooming a dark color, but Richie didn't seem to notice or feel it anyway.

Richie laughs with him, shaking his head. "Stop moving, fuckface, I'm not done with you yet" Eddie snaps, trying to hide his smirk.

Richie obliges, lets Eddie finish up his patchwork. Yet his stupid eyes can't stop trailing back to Eddies soft brown ones. What the hell, man? There's not even any sunlight here and Eddie is looking like a whole masterpiece. His eyes practically glow like they would out in the sun, even in this gloomy, dim nurses room. How is it that Eddie can be so unbelievably pretty everywhere he goes? Questions of the universe. Maybe they can score an episode on Unsolved Mysteries.

"Stop looking at me like that," Eddie demanded abruptly. Richie snapped out and gave him a confused look.

"Like what?" he asks, genuinely confused. Eddie was about to be done with the last band aid. A bright neon blue one. But he'd stopped suddenly as Richie drowned in his own thoughts.

"Like the way you are now, dumbfuck," Eddie says. His face doesn't look disgusted, moreso nervous and uneasy, feigning anger. Richie still doesn't know what he means, but he's sure the problem will be solved if he just stops looking at him overall.

But Eddie pulls up on his chin nevertheless, and Richie rolls his eyes. "Well I can't look anywhere else if you have me in a death grip facing you, Eds" Richie chuckles.

Eddie sighs and mumbles an irritated 'fine' before carefully placing the last band aid on Richies cheek. Richie smiles at the way Eddies tongue just barely pokes out through his mouth as he assures the band aid is on correctly.

"I will literally slap you, asshole" Eddie says, glaring at him as he began collecting the trash from the band aids and rolling it into a ball.

"And I will gladly take it on, seeing as that I'll probably just be stuck in here again with you lovingly tending to my wounds" Richie retorts with his had dramatically held to his heart with a smirk, laughing when Eddie continues to threaten him with violence, throwing the ball of trash to his head.

Richies eye still looks bad, and they've definitely missed the tardy bell, but they still happily leave the nurses office and go their separate ways, both silently praying for first period to go by fast. Today was the first day of in-class rehearsal, after all.

this chapter is mUCH longer than the rest (about 4758 words, whereas my usual would be on average a 2600-3600 something amount of words type beat, but i just wanted to try it out to see if you guys like the even longer chapters better :) let me know if u do, so i can keep doing them. school has been sorta slowing me down, but i've been getting decent grades so i'm sure i can get by and still update regularly here.

also yes 👉👈 i may have watched enola holmes and fallen in love with holmesbury. anyways, thanks for reading, leave a vote or a comment or whatever if you'd like, love you! <3