mixtape (reddie)

Chapter 8

After what feels like hours, the Losers all drag themselves back up to the peak where they had left their bikes and belongings. Thankfully, nobody like Henry Bowers came along and stole their clothes, but that's the least of Richie's problems.

While everyone else gets dressed, he frantically scrambles with foliage to find the bag he's hidden. Dripping wet and soaked to the bone, Richie couldn't care less about dressing himself. He needs to find his backpack. He needs to find his music.

His heart rests at ease when he finds it tucked under a nonconspicuous branch. Checking to make sure everything is fine, he pulls out his Walkman and headphones, inspecting every surface for scratches or damage.

"Got any new songs?" Eddie Kaspbrak asks.

Richie lifts his head up, looking over his shoulder at the now completely dressed boy. He feels embarrassed and exposed at his lack of clothes, but Eddie pays no attention. Instead, he comes and kneels beside Richie, peering into the bag curiously.

"Y-Yeah..." Richie breathes out, offering the headphones over to Eddie. The small boy takes them in his dainty hands, sliding them over his head while Richie scrambles to get dressed. He's glad he picked out these clean shirts, he would look like a fool if he had stayed in the spaghetti-stained PacMan shirt he was originally wearing when Bill came over this morning.

Richie watches the others with anxious eyes, all of them joking around with one another and having fun. His attention comes back to Eddie, who is smiling up at the trees and focusing on the music. Richie watches the way that spotted kaleidoscopes of sunshine stream in through breaks in the leaves, kissing sunlight freckles all over Eddie's polka dot nose. Halos of light glow within his irises, and Richie has to physically pull himself away from staring too long.

"Richie, Eddie! We're going to bike down to the parlor!" Ben calls out, making Richie jump in alarm.

Hearing this over the music, Eddie slides the headphones off of one ear and says "Go on ahead! We'll meet you there!"

Stan gives Richie a curious look, but definitely one that isn't as hostile as his usual glares. Maybe he's warming up to me, Richie thinks. He quickly shakes his head, shutting the idea down before it can even take shape in his brain. Don't get too comfortable, dumbass. They're only tolerating you because Bev pities you.

Interrupting his thoughts, Eddie throws a towel over that smacks Richie right in the face. "Dry off!"

"You want me using your towel?" Richie holds the material in his hands, noting the distinct smell of bleach and disinfectant spray radiating from it.

"Yeah," Eddie nods, holding the tape deck in his careful hands. "Dry your hair. I don't want you catching pneumonia and giving it to me."

Richie falls silent, rubbing his messy hair with the towel as he watches the other boys start pedaling away. Richie feels a slight discomfort now that he's alone with Eddie, but he doesn't think Eddie is bothered at all.

"How come you stayed behind?" Richie asks, insecurity evident in his voice. He curses himself for sounding so stupid, reaching down and pinching the skin on his thigh as a form of punishment.

"What, and leave you all alone?" Eddie shakes his head. "What if a crackhead came and, like, murdered you?"

Eddie stands up, still far shorter than Richie, and clips the Walkman to his belt loop. Richie watches him with attentive eyes, still holding the towel up to his hair. Eddie smiles at the curls plastered against Richie's forehead, and with slow movements, he moves the headphones from his ears over to Richie's head.
"This is a good song," Richie comments, his head nuzzling into Eddie's palm as the boy pulls his hands away, just in the slightest way as an attempt to keep the human contact lingering for a second more.