EPILOGUE

"Rich! You almost done up there? You're going to be late!" Maggie hollered, leaning up on the kitchen counter idly and fiddling with the tie in her hands, waiting patiently.

"Coming mom!" Richie yelled back, cursing under his breath as he shuffled around his room.

"Where is it, where is it" he muttered, "Where are you, you little bastard."

Richie huffed out a phew of relief when he finally spotted the small box under his bed. He snatched it up and took another anxious look in the mirror before bounding down the stairs in a rush.

"Hey baby, you look so handsome!" Maggie gushed, quickly snatching him up in a tight embrace.

Richie groaned into the hug, "Mooom, you said it yourself, I'm literally gonna be late!" he chuckled, squirming in her grasp.

"Just wait one second" she says just as he gets released from her hug. Richie looks down to her hands, huffing out a laugh when she begins wrapping the clip-on tie around his neck and fixing it under his collar.

"No one will notice it's fake. Plus, you need a little bit of pink! It goes with the outfit!" she persuades, stepping back and grinning at the boy in front of her.

Richie has never exactly been the kind of boy to dress formally... or honestly pleasing to any other eye than his own. He hates dressing out. Every wedding or event that he's had to overdress, he's a whiny bitch the whole time. (Stan and Bev know well enough).

But tonight, he sports a sharp black tuxedo -which he found after some deep digging in his closet- and his average, beaten-up converse, just to keep the Tozier flair. He hadn't changed much with his hair, especially after the hours on end he spent trying to fix it into some type of hairstyle. But it was to no avail, and he managed to get it back into his usual wild curls at least.

He never thought he'd actually want to look good for an event like this, or for any event at all for that matter. But tonight was different. And why it was different? We'll get to that matter soon enough.

"One more thing," Maggie smiles after a momentary flash of a camera sounds. Richie shoves the box in his pocket and waits as Maggie fumbles for something in her purse for a minute.

His eyes widen comically at what she pulls out next. They jingle around in her loose grasp, and she smirks softly at his awed expression.

"You passed your test last month, so I officially gift you with permission... to use the MaggieMobile," she says, holding the keys out for him to take dramatically, but before he can grab them, she snatches them back and gives him a skeptical look.

She straightens her back, chin raised, and begins speaking in a low, horrible british accent. "Sir Richard, do you hereby swear to not wreck my car, so help you god?" she queries, to which Richie giggles and nods nevertheless, playing along.

He bows his head and Maggie chuckles, tapping both of his shoulders with a fake sword and finally placing the keys in his palm gently. He lifts his head again, and Maggie quickly pulls him into another tight embrace.

"My little knight is getting so big!" she squeals, and Richie laughs, hugging her back.

"Alright, I gotta go. Love you!" he says, prying himself out of her hands and giving a short peck on her cheek.

He hopped out the door and internally squealed as the truck came into view. According to his mom, he technically has passed his drivers test. A month or two after the whole Romeo and Juliet ordeal, Maggie took him out to a secluded street on the outskirts of town and, like many times before, took him for a test drive. That was the day that he became officially certified for driving around Derry (if necessary) till he can actually pay for a real license. Until then, he must stay strong and -in her words- don't get caught.

Richie settles into the driver's seat and pushes the key into its ignition. It roars to life and he can't help but grin at the sputtering sound. The Losers are going to fucking flip when they see that he drove to the school rather than biked.

The truck -or better yet, the MaggieMobile- is... not exactly as flattering as it may seem. Richie never actually bothered learning what type of car it was, but felt it was easy enough to know that it was purchased sometime in the 70's, that it's a rusty maroon color, and that the back is fairly decent in size. He remembers going to the drive-in with her at one point when he was little, how they and a handful of blankets fit just perfectly into the pit. The actual inside of the truck was a little small, but pretty perfect for Richie at least.

Richie pulled out of the driveway carefully, just like he'd always practiced before, and drove off to his next destination.

___

"Eddie Bear! You coming down soon?" Sonia hollered in query, tapping her foot impatiently.

Eddie sighed and flopped onto his bed face-first, groaning into his pillow loudly.

The Junior Prom. One of the shittiest school events ever due to budget cuts and saving for the actual senior prom only weeks away. And there's nothing really wrong with it, it's just that, well... he's never really gone to a dance before.

This years' theme was Spring Awakening... And no, that's isn't an error. The school council decided on a green and flowery spring theme because it's April, but frankly didn't look up the real meaning of Spring Awakening before it was being stuck onto every bulletin board and empty wall space around school.

Bill and Ben have continuously supported his decision, the whole "dances are stupid" and the superiority complex bit throughout high school. And in fact, it was quite fun to tell their parents they were going to the dance, get all dressed and fancy, then ditch to go to the arcade or the movies the whole time. It was easily enjoyable. But this time it's different, because he's actually going. And he's nervous as fuck. Why, might you ask? We'll get to that later.

Eddie is all dressed and ready. He has been for the past hour or so, but he's nervous. He's not sure he can do this. Is he overdressed? Is he underdressed? Sonia bought him this suit just a few months ago, and it still looks new. Possibly too new. What if people think he bought it for the sole purpose of the dance! What if they call him over-the-top? Dramatic?!

Well, perhaps that's what he's doing right now. Being dramatic. So it's best to stop.

Eddie huffs out a breath and prepares himself, before hopping into the bathroom one last time to check himself in the mirror. He doesn't look too bad. School dance material, at least. He slides a hand over his pocket, feeling the faint shape of the small ziploc bag in there, and smiles to himself.

The doorbell rings.

"Eddie! Someone's here for you!" Sonia shouts, already sliding up to the front door and turning the doorknob.

Eddie's eyes widen, watching himself gasp in the mirror before rushing his feet to the sound of the door opening with a creak. He gets to the door of his room successfully; "Woahwoahah!" Then trips face-first over a towel on the floor.

"Hello!-... What are you doing here?" Eddie hears Sonia speak in a quite rude tone, and now he knows he's too late. As he tosses the towel across the room in frustration and gets back onto his feet, he mentally prepares himself for the catastrophe that's about to be unleashed.

He trips down the stairs one by one, "Heya, ma'am!" he hears his voice.

"Todd?" Sonia queries, a light grimace plastered on her face, as usual.

Eddie watches Richie tensely, caught on how he stutters on his next few words, and seems to quickly process something right before their very eyes.

"Yes, this is Todd. Um, you seen Eddie around?" Richie continues, a nasally, even more annoying voice now overtaking his own.

FUCK, Eddie thinks, now near the bottom of the stairs and holding his breath in suspense.

Sonia is about to protest, Eddie can tell with the way she puts her hand on her hip sassily. But instead, with that movement shifting her to the side, she's revealed the staircase to Richie from behind her. And Eddie sees the way Richie's facade falls at the sight of him standing on the stairs.

His eyes go wide from behind his large specs, and nearly drops the object in his hands. Eddie's lips fight to not curl into a smirk when he catches sight of Richie about this close to collapsing to the ground. Right in front of his mother. Absolutely not.

Eddie rushes over to them and laughs dryly, nudging his mom a bit further away from the door warily.

"Todd! Hey, how are you?" Eddie grins, blinking repeatedly as he tries to will away the screaming part of his brain that's saying Richie in a tuxedo holy fuck Richie In A Tuxedo!!

Richie seems equally as tense, swallowing visibly and smiling back in response. "Hello Eddie, you look..." he huffs out a breathless cross between a laugh and a whew! noise. "...De- decent," Richie finishes, breathing in deeply and pursing his lips together.

Eddie fights back a beaming grin, rocking on his toes shyly, and nods in response, "Not too bad yourself, thanks."

They stand there in silence for another moment, simply smiling at one another as if they couldn't believe their luck. Eddie fumbles with his hands behind his back giddily. Richie adjusts his glasses further up his nose.

Then, silently outraged, Sonia breaks the silence.

"Eddie Bear, you aren't seriously going to the dance with this boy, are you?" Sonia queries, a hand held to her chest almost as though she could have a heart attack at any moment.

Richie and Eddie both turn to her, then shoot each other a panicked look. Eddie stammers out a few syllables, quickly realizing he's simply unable to respond in a way that won't get him reprimanded. But then Richie raises his eyebrows comically, and Eddie knows that look. He's flipped the switch on his stage persona. He's not going to be telling the truth anytime soon.

"With me? Oh, no way. Eds couldn't score me even if he wanted to!" Richie says, glancing to Eddie with a subtle wink.

"His date is in the car," Richie shrugs simply, gesturing to the door with a click of his tongue.

Eddie's brain comes to a halt, like a record scratch... Huh?

A few things to process here, we might need to pause for a second. First of all, Richie in A TUXEDO. Second of all, Richie isn't his date?? Thirdly, RICHIE HAS A CAR?!?

"Oh? I'm sorry, I apologize for... misjudging..." Sonia trails off, still a tad skeptical. Eddie sees her eyes trail down to Richie's pink bow tie, then quickly advert her gaze elsewhere.

Richie nods and waves it off. "Yup, I'm just the chauffeur tonight. I can call her over if you'd like," he says in query, and Sonia doesn't hesitate to hum a firm yes of approval.

Richie smiles charmingly and turns to the open door, quickly shooting Eddie a reassuring look. I got this covered, he seems to say.

He scrambles outside and out of sight quickly, unfortunately leaving Eddie alone with his mother.

"Edward, this is just wonderful! I had no idea you'd be going with a date today!" Sonia exclaims, overjoyed.

Eddie suffers through the bad feeling in his stomach, and forces a smile back with a waved off "Yeah, totally."

Eddie sighs and prepares himself for whatever erratic crazy plan Richie has plotted for him next. Of course he doesn't actually have a real date tonight, let alone a girl. He was supposed to go with Richie. He thought he still was.

Soon enough, footsteps are approaching once again, and Richie comes into view. Eddie sighs out a breath of relief, but quickly his breath stops and hitches at who follows closely behind.

"Eddie, I brought your date for you" Richie says in his Todd Voice with an on-pressing tone, gesturing to the girl beside him.

"Why the fuck are you talking like tha-" Myra mumbles, quickly getting cut off by Richie elbowing her in the side.

"-Hi Eddie!" she exclaims, smiling at him with a small glare that says just go with it.

Eddie smiles back convincingly, "Myra! Hi, thank you so much for coming!" he says through gritted teeth, throwing a death glare at Richie.

"Thank you for bringing her, Todd. This is Todd," Eddie says intensely, gesturing to Richie for Myra to understand. Myra feigns a charming laugh and nods. It's insane how similar she and Richie are with this kind of stuff.

She... looks really good, it's hard to even deny that. A casual solid black dress hugged her upper body, down to her waist where a belt held it together, the sleeves coming off her shoulder and to the sides. The skirt was ruffled and went just down to her knees. She was perhaps even prettier than when she played Juliet last month. Her hair was straightened as normal as every day, but Eddie was still slightly blown away by the difference.

"Hi Myra, you look beautiful! Eddie, tell her she looks beautiful" Sonia says, ushering Eddie over to them.

Side by side, Eddie thinks Richie and Myra could probably be mistaken for siblings. Maybe from afar, or if you have troubling eyesight. But he knows they'd both murder him if he ever were to admit that to them.

After a few pictures and a handful of squeals from Sonia herself, Eddie groans and waves her off, pulling Richie and Myra out the door with him.

"Richie, I swear to god, if you paid Myra to come pretend to be my date, you-"

"What?! No, why would I pay her to steal my man?" Richie says, his hand smacking onto his chest as though in offence.

"She offered, dumbass," Richie scoffed, skipping down the driveway toward his truck, which had itself parked right on the curb.

Myra nodded, "Yup, I thought you two lost-cause lovebirds could use a beard or two, so why not?"

"Hm, well you guessed right. From the looks of it, his mom would not have approved of me being with her dear Eddie Bear" Richie says with an exaggerated pout.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "She'll have to get used to it, I'm not feeling good about this whole ordeal, I'll have to tell the truth eventually," He shrugs, kicking a stone down the driveway as they draw nearer to the truck. Richie purses his lips worriedly at that remark, but shrugs with a nod nevertheless. Eventually.

"I think we all clean up pretty nice, though," Richie says, changing the subject and straightening his pink bowtie jokingly. He glances to Myra momentarily as they approach the doors to the car, raising his eyebrows.

"Well... I mean, seriously? Are you going to a funeral?" Richie mocks, opening the door for her in the passenger's side of the truck and bowing as she hops in.

"Actually yes. Yours, if you don't shut the fuck up," she remarks, shutting the door herself and flipping him off through the window.

Richie snickers and walks back around the front of the car, coming face to face with Eddie once again.

"If I don't make out with you right now I think I might pass out," Richie states quietly, looking so stupidly serious that he may as well be begging.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and giggles, "Oh shut up, horn dog. You can last a few more minutes without me," he kisses Richie's cheek.

It's practically automatic at this point; "That's what your mom s-"

"You can't make jokes about my mom like that anymore, it's just weird!" Eddie exclaims as he hops into the middle seat of the truck, where Richie slides next to him in the drivers spot.

They have to squish together in the three seats of the truck, but it's not too uncomfortable, and Richie still grins as he turns the key in its ignition, the truck revving to life.

Eddie and Myra eye him warily. "You can drive, right?" Eddie questions worriedly as Richie fumbles with the mirror.

"Of course! I just passed my Derry drivers test like, last week," he assures with a shrug.

"You have to go to Bangor for that, Richie," Myra says.

He smirks, "Exactly."

And then they were driving off, leaving behind a trickle of yelps and swears from the shorter brunette boy as they went.

___

You may be thinking, why would you want to pass up a chance to go to a school dance? The Prom, of all things? That's just ridiculous! Well, taking one look at the entrance of the Derry High Gymnasium... you may just be able to take the hint.

Plastic greenery was strung up on the frame of the entrance to the school, cascading down along the doorway in a flair of school dance spirit. Students were scattered all around the place; walking in, walking out, simply sitting on the curb, even. Reminding Eddie of a house party that's strikingly similar to one he's gone to before. Except -y'know- this time, it's not absolute chaos like both other times.

They step inside the school, and are quickly met with the bustling sounds of teenagers and music. Only a few people are on the dance floor, and the rest are floating around elsewhere; around the punch table, mingling between, in the corners of the room, chatting it up and seemingly having a great time.

The decorations are evidently cheap, but not all too horrible. The pillars that once stood in the middle of the room are now wrapped in brown paper, and fake leaves and green paper dangle and sprout from it nicely. The lights are slightly dimmed, and the DJ booth basically looked like it was emerging from a pond scenery. Fake flowers were strewn almost everywhere. Ceiling to walls to even scattered on the floor.

Richie says something out loud to both him and Myra that Eddie renders inaudible with the noise of the room, and suddenly the Losers collectively appear from out of the blob of students before them.

They all seemed to really dress to impress. All of the boys are clothed in nice tuxes and suits, and Beverly sports a wonderful green dress that drapes down to her feet and no doubt really brings out her eyes.

"Hey guys! We've been waiting for you!" Ben says, enthusiastically waving them over.

"Oh! Who's this?" Beverly asks, quirking her head to the side when Myra emerges from behind Richie. And Eddie can tell with the way the redhead raises her eyebrows with a mocking, querying expression that she knows well enough who Myra is. Richie has probably gone on about a billion hate-rants about her to Beverly at this point. Hopefully she can get past that for tonight.

"Right. Guys, this is Myra! We're in theatre together," Richie announces with a shrug. He wonders for a moment if they can tell a rivalry had happened at some point between them. Beverly and Stan seem to be the only ones eyeing her skeptically. Nevertheless, everyone nods in understanding.

"Oh yeah! I loved you as Juliet, by the way," Bill comments with a smile from the side. Richie glances down, and notices the way he's rocking on his feet excitedly, his hand fallen to his side and intertwined with someone else's.

And beside him stood Stan, holding said hand and grinning from ear to ear in such a way that Richie's only ever seen once before. Once, on a chilly November day, filled with incredulous smiles, sheepish backs turned against one another, and giddy Art class encounters. Who would've thought?

"I'm gonna go get some punch," Myra says politely, before waving goodbye and slipping away.

"Oh! I almost forgot, I stopped by a Fotomat last week and got my photos developed! You guys are going to love them," Eddie exclaims, then begins fumbling through his pockets.

Richie had nearly forgotten about that. The boxy, yellow Kodak that he'd kept close for a while like Cinderella's fucking glass slipper. He watches as Eddie pulls a plastic bag out of his jacket pocket and pulls it open.

Everyone makes approved noises of surprise and confusion as he pulls them all out. A huge stack of them that fills his palm, more than Richie would've ever thought he had taken during all this time.

And Richie can tell that these are simply going to be the most cherished photos of his life just from a look at the first photo on the top; a completely blissed out Eddie, mouth stuffed with spaghetti and hilariously caught off guard.

Eddie flips through them, grinning at each moment and telling each story. Richie proudly remembers most of them, and now he's really thankful that Eddie had this camera with him this whole time. These photos... they're simply perfect in every way! An authentic tinge of grain on all of them, full of life and memories. And just a few of them, for example;

Another photo, in a horrible lighting and angle of the auditorium stage: Richie, extra worn-out hair and a wild look in his eyes. Stressing over a show during tutoring. A situation that they're no stranger to at this point.

Then a photo just hours later, of Richie onstage in the middle of a scene in Our Town. Mike is shoved into the side of the photo, squinting at the bright flash and smiling with two thumbs up. They definitely weren't allowed to take that picture.

Another one of the photos is taken at the lunch table cafeteria, and it's a blurry photo of Bill laughing in front of a pile of carrots on the table, a long carrot shoved under his nose, acting as a mustache. His lunch tray had previously been raided by Beverly, and all of the Losers dumped their carrots onto his tray in a faux act of generosity.

One picture is of a thoroughly confused Stan, actively lunging toward the camera in a move to take it away, and someone (probably Richie) showing a hand flipping Stan off from behind the camera.

Another of Eddie, this time in Bill's basement, wrapped up tightly in a bundle of blankets on the floor, pretending to sleep. His mouth had been caught curling on a smile in his pose just as it had been taken, and you can see Beverly's flats sprawled out in the corner of the picture messily.

A beaming photo of Mike, posed with two books smushed close to his face like a sandwich as he grinned up at the ceiling. The library's unmistakable bookshelves stood in the background. One of the Losers' library clean-up mornings, no doubt.

Richie again, at the diner with two milkshake straws shoved up his nose and his eyes crossed and narrowed slightly. Bill is shoved at his side smiling comically, obviously trying to squish together into the booth and pop into the photo with Richie.

Ben and Beverly, also at the lunch table, gesturing to one another extravagantly with bright smiles, and Stan on the sidelines, poking into frame with a jokingly deadpan look on his face.

Then this one -Richie could tell with the vague familiarity of the background- took place at a party. Richie and Eddie dancing in the center of a crowd. Richie, caught in the middle of a spin blearily, and Eddie beside him, clutching his stomach, laughing. He wonders who took this one, and how it managed to so easily light his soul on fire. He didn't realize how perfect the moment really had been till he could see it as it was. Him and Eddie, losing themselves to the world they know, and escaping to where it's just them. His eyes linger on that one a bit longer.

And a lot more photos. It'd take a while to get through them all, so Eddie just skims through most of them, joining in with the group's laughter.

"That's crazy, Eddie! I had no idea we took so many... those are so sweet!" Ben laughs.

Mike nods in agreement, "Totally! I'm glad you have these to show us," he grins warmly.

"Richie?" a voice calls out suddenly from behind them. All of the Losers whip their heads around to be met with a blonde headed boy in school dance attire, fiddling with a button on his jacket anxiously.

Richie steps out in front of them, emerging from the crowd as the silence between all of them spills over. He has his poker face set on, stuffing his hands in his pockets and setting free his wild attitude to berate Connor with.

He sighs. "What do you want?" Richie says it almost accusingly, not holding back on the icy bite to it.

Connor purses his lips, opens his mouth to speak, then pauses as his eyes dart to the Losers, who are all staring intently with withering gazes.

"Can we talk? I just-" he inhales, then purses his lips again (that seems to be a thing of his). "I want to talk. Sort of privately, maybe?"

Richie eyes him skeptically. Nothing good ever happened last time he said that.

But still, feeling generous, Richie shrugs and looks over his shoulder, where Eddie is biting his lip, but gives him a hesitant nod of approval in response.

"Okay, sure," Richie says almost woefully, already headed toward the doors to go out into the hallway as Connor followed behind.

When they finally get to the hallway, Connor shuts the double doors so that it's quieter, then turns to Richie with an almost desperate look on his face.

"Richie, I want you to know that I am so so so sorry... about what happened," he's already blurting it out before Richie can get a word in.

"It's just... I really did want to do something with you... to be something with you maybe, but Henry... I- he just wouldn't get it. He never does. I've always been so worried about what he might do, and that day... I- I just panicked and- I'm so sorry," he was gesturing wildly with his hands and rubbing the back of his neck every once in a while. Borderline frantic mode. Richie realizes that he had been thinking about this for a while.

When Richie understood that he was finally done, and the pause dawned upon them, he simply smiles softly. The bite is gone, icy tone down the drain. Almost all feelings of anger toward Connor were slowly dissipating, and only a pile of empathy and disappointment are there to stay.

Richie finally speaks up into the suspending silence of the hall. "Connor, I'm gonna be completely honest with you. I totally get it. Henry is an asshole. He doesn't... doesn't bother understanding people like us. Of course you were scared. But, still being honest, what you did was a major dick move."

Connor seemed to have seen that one coming, because all he did was nod solemnly, rubbing at his arm up and down. Richie chuckled a bit, trying to ease the tense air between them.

"Trust me, I was... f- beyond flattered when you asked me out that day," Richie's mind recalls the fateful afternoon; Error 404. Beeeeeeeeep! Call the paramedics! It was a confusing day for us all apparently.

"But, I think you need to be more honest with yourself. If you know who you are, what you want, you should seriously- just... refrain from caring about what anyone thinks of it. And I know it might be hard with Henry and all, but consider your circumstances, and just do what's right... next time," Richie adds that last part in quickly, and they both share a laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. Connor nods in understanding, pursing his lips.

"Don't let others get in the way of what makes you happy," Richie finishes off with an encouraging grin. Being angry was never the way to go for this situation. Connor needs guidance just as much as Richie did all those months ago.

Connor returns the smile with an embarrassed and sheepish one. That sentence technically implied that Richie, at one point, made Connor happy. It's surprising to the both of them, but truth nonetheless.

People who make you happy are overwhelmingly worth all of it. All of the disaster and heartbreak and karma and rain and thunder. Every last bit. Inevitably, Richie's mind wanders back to Eddie. This is his issue. Why he couldn't possibly be with anyone else. Eddie makes him happy. Happier than he's ever been before. Fucking joyous!

"I see the way you look at him," Connor says into the silence, his eyes trained on the double doors that lead back to the party. "And I know you're thinking about him right now," he laughs. It's dry and bittersweet, and Richie's heart pricks with guilt at the melancholy sound.

He inhales hesitantly, then "I'm sorry-" Richie begins, but Connor waves him off with a knowing smile.

"Don't be. He makes you happy, right?" That doesn't fail to bring a smile to Richie's face. Because yeah. He does.

"Yeah," Richie responds bashfully, yet confidently, grinning with the sheer reminder of it. He feels like maybe he hadn't even known happiness till he found Eddie. Till Eddie found him. He can't remember what his life felt like without Eddie before, and frankly, he isn't even sure he wants to.

Connor purses his lips once more, smiling softly at Richie's heart-eyed expression boring into the window of the double doors, the party still raging inside.

"Thank you, by the way," he says, causing Richie to turn back to him. "For letting me apologize, I mean. And for the advice."

"Of course," Richie shrugs, "Good luck, it'll all work out in the end." He gestures confidently, before smiling in encouragement and waving goodbye, heading back into the party.

Connor nods, looking back to the empty hallway as Richie leaves. He takes a deep breath, and smiles. It'll all work out in the end. He chuckles to himself quietly before making his way back into the party too.

Eddie sips from his cup of punch idly, leaning up on the fake moss-covered table and observing the party going on around him. People were having fun, but not exactly living it up like there's no tomorrow. I guess knowing that these juniors are going to have a better one next year makes this one not so important.

Richie had left to go talk to Connor just a few minutes ago. One or two songs have passed since Eddie walked over to the punch table, and now he feels awkward.

Eddie knows Connor from his 7th period, but nothing much more than that. He's heard rumors that he's Henry Bowers' cousin, which... WHAT?! That came as a bit of a shock, and was one of the only things that had Eddie hesitating from giving Richie the go-ahead to talk to him privately. I mean, what if he was just planning to kick the shit out of him? But Eddie knows that he's just overthinking this now. Connor actually seemed really... nervous to approach Richie.

And here's the thing, Eddie is desperately striving not to be that person in a relationship. The kind that prohibits their... partner... from ever talking to anyone at all out of pure jealousy. So that was what mostly fueled his hesitant nod. He trusted Richie, and it simply made him feel even better that Richie turned to him for approval in the first place. Eddie could melt with how much he loves that stupid four-eyed menace.

Speak of the devil, Eddie can suddenly sense the presence of a certain someone behind him, and doesn't even have to turn around before breaking out into a lip-biting grin.

"Come with me," Richie whispers near Eddie's ear. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the low sound of the raven haired boy's voice, but glances over his shoulder a minute later nonetheless.

When he sees the familiar tall figure pulling open one of the double doors to the room and sliding out in a quick shuffling movement, he spares a look at his friends momentarily. They're all indulged in a story Mike is telling, and laughing their asses off all the while. They won't notice them gone, just for a little bit.

"Did you bring me here just to make out?" Eddie says with raised eyebrows as they're bounding down the empty hallway, hands linked and giggling when Richie simply silences him once more with a sweet peck on the lips again.

The music is still audible from over here in the hallways, only heavily muffled by distance and the double doors further away. Richie parts from the kiss once more, and takes a step or two backwards so that his back can rest on the door beside them. Coincidentally, the janitors closet door.

"I got you something," Richie says out of the blue, quieter than usual into the silence between them, as though he'd been planning to say it for a long time.

Eddie hums a querying noise of surprise, twisting his hands behind his back, jittery, shy. He watches Richie fumble with something in his pocket, quickly pulling out a small box.

Eddie purses his lips with a shy smile, and Richie glances back up at him slyly, before rising from his leaning stance on the door.

Slowly, Richie opens the small black box. Taking his time. Eddie huffs out a laugh at Richie's obvious teasing, but when the top is finally off, he plucks out the object inside and holds it out for Eddie to take.

Eddie stares at it for a long second, a smile still tugged on his features.

Complete with its delicate petals and thorny stem... It's a red rose.

"I stole it from the prop room last month, from the Romeo and Juliet production," Richie says with a shrug, letting Eddie take it and examine from up close. He'd hardly noticed that it's fake till just now.

He remembers being onstage, with this same rose, holding it out for Myra to take, though it was Richie who'd invaded his thoughts the entire time.

"I just didn't know if I should get you a corsage, or whatever they're called.. and- and I-"

"Ugh, you're such a sap. I love it," Eddie says, punching Richie lightly on the chest before diving in for a hug. Richie chuckles, gladly embracing Eddie in response, though the wind gets knocked out of him and he's suddenly back up on the door again with a groan.

"Whoops," Eddie says with a laugh, realizing he's just assaulted Richie with affection. He straightens up again and tucks the rose into the top pocket of his suit carefully, grinning at the wave of emotions that follow with it. Joy. Warmth. Love, most of all.

Richie stays leaned up on the door of the closet, biting the inside of his cheek and simply gazing at the shorter freckled boy in front of him. From here, he looks like a fucking greek god. One side of his face glows with a warm color from the windows at the end of the hall. The sunset reflects onto his face perfectly, and Richie could melt right then and there. Die a happy man now that he's seen Eddie Kaspbrak like this, beaming with a smile, bathing in a honey glow of the setting sun.

In the middle of his moment to admire, he senses Eddie beginning to inch closer. Closer. Closer. A smug smile now plastered over his face.

"Mmm, doesn't seem like I'm the one trying to make out here after all," Richie remarks with a smile, eyes flicking down to the shorter boy's lips automatically. Letting Eddie grow even closer, their noses now brushing.

"Is that so?" Eddie queries teasingly, stopping just short of reach from Richie, their lips hardly millimeters apart. When he doesn't make any move to go any further, Richie scowls lightly like he's just been backstabbed.

"Oh, you fucker." And Richie doesn't waste another second in closing the gap between them to smush Eddie's mouth onto his. Eddie chuckles into the kiss, reaching for Richie's hand between them to link their pinkies together.

Richie tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, their heads moving with the flow of each other's lips. And at this point, Richie doesn't need to explain how wonderful it feels. The seizing joy he experiences rumbling deep within him when he grazes a hand against the underside of Eddie's jaw, the touch sending shocks throughout the both of them.

When they finally separate, Eddie doesn't move away from his spot in front of Richie. Simply ghosts his breathless lips near Richie's, watching the taller boy's eyes grow dilated with every passing second.

Richie seems to be this close to diving in for another, but instead, his hand raises to tuck a strand of hair away from Eddie's face;

"Dance with me," he says.

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows at that, letting out a breathy laugh. But when Richie slips out of his spot where Eddie had cornered him, twirls dramatically in the hallway, and holds out his hand for Eddie to take, Eddie realizes he most definitely isn't joking.

The music from the actual party further away still managed to reach the hall, muffled and quiet, echoing all around them. It was a slow song that had risen into the air, almost as though on cue.

Hesitantly, Eddie reached out to take Richie's hand. The taller boy grinned in satisfaction and took it enthusiastically, pulling Eddie closer, away from the closet door and toward the middle of the hall. Richie took Eddie's hands, and placed them on both of his own shoulders, biting his lip and caught on a smile as he did so. Then puts both his hands on Eddie's waist, as he's done plenty of times before; locked away in his room and pushed up against the door, trying to keep their giggles and mutters of incoherent nonsense to a minimum.

Eddie can't help smiling back up at him with a giggle as they start a slow but sure rhythm in rocking back and forth on their feet in sync. And it's not at all as awkward as Richie's seen it happen in movies before, because those movies are suddenly so stupid and Eddie is better than all of those faux emotions combined. None of them can compare to what Richie's come to experience in this very moment.

Because he soon feels soft hair tickling at his cheek, and a content sigh sounding out, slightly muffled as Eddie nuzzles into his neck.

Richie glances down slowly, his eyes widening with the wild feeling that pounds at his heart so suddenly, looking at Eddie right here right now. Such a simple act, yet one that has him falling head over heels all over again.

Because it's different when you're with someone you love. The world shifts beneath your feet and color lights up right before your very eyes. It's a surreal feeling that overtakes you. Love. Every part of you. It starts at your fingertips, a staticky feeling developing where you're cradling his waist. Then it travels up your arms, overtaking every limb and organ and every thrumming, functioning part of your body and makes it vibrate with the wonderful revelation of 'I've tumbled into the trap of his his eyes, his voice, his touch, his love. And I think I've fallen... fallen, fallen..'

Richie lowers his head too, burying his nose into the warm vanilla scent of Eddie's hair. He lets the tufts brush against his skin, his eyes slipping shut at the sheer comfort of the moment. They're still rocking back and forth to the music, but he can hardly seem to hear it, too overwhelmed in being able to hold him like this, hug him like this, kiss him like this. It's so good. This love.

It's where the mind can finally go limp. Fall at ease as the worries of the world wash away in a cascading waterfall of afterthoughts. Because you're in love. Actually in love. It practically hurts to be this fucking hooked on one person. When you feel it pang down on you for a revelling moment, your chest practically concaving and your heart churning in a painful rush of emotion. But it's so good, too.

Richie floats down from his thoughts, suddenly ridden with a need to say something about this groundbreaking discovery. He lifts his head from the cushion of Eddie's hair and clears his throat.

"Edward Kaspbrak, I have a proposition to make," Richie announces, drumming his fingers against Eddie's waist anxiously as they continue their synced movement.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

"How would you like to get an upgrade... or one might even say promoted," Richie says, and he can't fucking hide the smile that cracks over the surface.

"Ooh, do say more," Eddie plays along, egging him on with a giggle.

Richie smirks, and looks down to his hands for a moment, fiddling with them. Nervous. "What it entails, I think, is very much in your interest. There's lots of benefits. Maybe even a raise!"

It's a very detailed course of action. You'd be transitioning from my muse, to..." he takes a deep breath as though preparing for something. "To my boyfriend," Richie finishes in a breath, raising his eyebrows as though in query.

Thankfully, Eddie only seems mildly taken aback by this statement. Richie's heart rate trips up within seconds, watching Eddie's eyes widen, mouth falling agape and stammering on a syllable or two.

And, well, it's too late now, there's nothing Eddie can do that will be able to stop the spill of words that tumble out of the taller boy's mouth, in a jittery rush of mixed signals. "Unless you don't- want to? I mean, I know it'd be risky, and I know you don't always like labels and stuff... but... I think it would be cool.. if you were- I mean if we were-"

Then... I stand corrected; Eddie cuts him off with a chaste kiss to his lips, Richie melting into it almost immediately. Apparently there are certain things that can shut up Richard Tozier. Very few things, but things nonetheless.

And when they separate, before Richie can go on any longer, Eddie smiles brighter than anything he's ever seen, and says, "Well, when can I start?"

Richie can't suppress the sigh of relief that washes over him in that moment. His shoulders sag slightly with the release of tension, and he wants to yell it across every rooftop in town. Eddie Kaspbrak is my boyfriend!! I have a boyfriend and his name is Eddie Kaspbrak!

"Does right the fuck now work?" Richie laughs incredulously, because he can't believe his fucking luck. Unable to help himself, he's already smiling goofily back at Eddie and lunging in for a kiss. On impact, it's desperate and messy and just so perfect. As though a romantic wind is blowing around them like a movie, and the camera is circling their bodies dramatically. And then they separate, and quickly dive back in, and the kiss turns slow and drawn out, like it's too good to pull away from.

But eventually they have to, and as they break apart finally, Eddie can't miss the sniffle that escapes the raven haired boy.

And he just knows Richie too well.

"You fucking sap, I knew you'd get all choked up like this," Eddie says, weakly shoving Richie in the shoulder with a wet laugh. You can tell he's this close to welcoming the waterworks too.

And Richie laughs too, wiping his eyes and huffing out a breath. "Oh shut up, I'm emotional and more happy than I've ever been like, ever," he says, justifying the wetness of his eyes as he dabs it away.

And Eddie grins up at him in a way that he never thought he'd be able to look at someone before.

Who would've thought? Richie and Eddie. The friends, to enemies, to frenemies, to friends with benefits, to enemies, to... lovers! ... To boyfriends? ... A fucking wild ride, in short. Who would've thought two people taking the same theatre class would ripple into a dramatic wave of events such as this.

And now it just rolls off the tongue. Richie and Eddie. RichieandEddie. No catch. Just Richie and Eddie.

And now the universe has left them at peace. No more Oh no's or What if's for these two, for now. Who would've thought that all it took for the universe to leave them be is for each other to confess.

"I think you might just be the love of my life, Trashmouth," Eddie says under his breath, because he can't help it. A hair away from capturing Richie's lips again, and so in love he could just burst at the seams.

"Out of all the things I've heard you say, Eds, I think that sentence may just be the least dramatic one," Richie remarks with a playful smile.

And Eddie wants to make a snarky reply at that, but he's the one who confessed it in the first place, and either way... he knows it's truer than anything he's said ever before.

Who would've thought.

End Of Dramatic.