Missing // Losers Club au

He's Struggling

—Death is close and so is Love—

—4:00pm / Still the twenty-fourth

"He's gonna get his ass beat if he does." Bill chuckles. He has a rather soft bone structure. No "sharp" edges to his jawline or cheeks. He's a softie that tries his best to look tough. People who know well enough like Stanley or Mrs. Denbrough know how kind he can be.

"Bye Bill!" "Bye!" He chuckles. Mike waves at some of the people leaving. "How's Eddie doing?" "He's doing better than I am...he's t-trying...like Stan had done." "At least he cares-" "This feels wrong," "What?" Mike is familiar with Bill's random rambling in the average of conversations.

"I could be h-helping...looking for both of them...b-but I'm here...instead." "Listen, you've done all you can-" "I can do more...fuck." He watches as Eddie rolls over gently. The warmth of the sun is good enough to help the boy fall asleep.

"He's gonna kill you if he gets sunburnt." "I know. I know." He grumbles. Handing Mike his drink and float. "So where did Beverly g-go?" "To the library." "Weird." He chuckles. Eddie looks too delicate to provoke.

"Eddie...h-hey. Wake up. Y-You're gonna get sunburned." "No..." he whines. "I'm sorry. C'mon." Eddie stumbles slightly. He'd lean onto Bill's chest if it weren't for the fact that he's soaking wet.

"Loser!!" Everyone's attention is turned to Eddie and Bill. Patrick and of course his goons pour ice water over the both of them.
"S-Shit!" "What the fuck??"

A towel is wrapped around the smaller one. If everyone else would unexpectedly vanish, he'd cry. Cry into Bill's arms until abruptly plunging asleep.

"It-It was a joke, Mike. We didn't mean it." Patrick stumbles over his words. "H-Hey it's okay...promise. C'mon. Let's go." Bill doesn't bother to grab their stuff on the ground. He knows Mike will get it. He just wants to get Eddie away from everything and everyone.

"What the fuck?" Is murmured over and over again. His bare feet pitter against the asphalt. "I'm sorry..." he stops in place. The curls stick against his head. "Yeah..." "Y-Yeah?"

By some unknown force, their lips attach. Almost like puzzle pieces.

It feels unfair.

Wrong. So very wrong.

Like puzzle pieces to a different puzzle, but that would normally fit together. "I-I like Stan..." "I know you do...just one more..." "I can't..." "Yes, you can..." "Yes, I can..."

He watches. He watches from a remote extent. His best friend and ex-lover kissing. He chokes on a tight-lipped sob. If he were to yell, the knife against his throat would be mashed harder.

Pushed harder until his vision would go out.

"Let go of him, man." "You want the kid to die? Huh?!" "N-No..." "Look at that...he loves him."

Stan's face burns a sharp red. Tears roll down his cheeks quicker and quicker. He doesn't know what's scarier, the knife against his throat or the fact that Bill might fall in love with Eddie instead.

He doesn't love Bill back...does he?

"C'mon. We've gotta go." "Y-Yeah..." "Yeah..." "You're going home today...right?" He asks, intertwining their hands ever so gently. "I don't have to." "Right..."

—11:26 pm

"Night m-mom..." "Is Eddie asleep?" "Fell asleep a couple of hours ago." "That's fine...wake me if you need anything..." "Are you okay?" "I will be..."