he sees the ghosts-bichie

1

i'm falling in love and it's better this time than ever before

richie lays in bill's bed, stripes of morning sun crossing his bare belly. the skin there looks golden. he stares absently at bill's face, watching the muscles move as he breathes and his eyelids flutter as he dreams. richie tucks a strand of bill's hair behind his ear, then sighs and rolls out of bed. he spends so many nights here, this might as well be his own bedroom. there are relics left over from childhood, weathered action figures and bits of wood that were once meant for building father-and-son birdhouses. clothes are strewn about from last night's pre-sex tussle. richie dresses himself and slips out the window to avoid the slowly waking mr. and mrs. denbrough. the sky outside is a new, pale blue that spreads like a dome over the world. richie wonders how many other people are looking at this very same sky. he does this a lot. there are seven billion people on this planet; at least a few of them must be doing the same thing he's doing. pushing his thoughts aside, he begins to strut down the block towards where he parked his bike last night, all the while thinking about how bill's red hair looks when the sun shines through it.
•••
at noon, richie decides to head out to the losers' favorite place for lunch, expecting to find some of his friends there. instead, what he finds is a 16-going-on-30 henry bowers sitting in the far corner. rich immediately steps back, but not before henry spots him and begins to make his way to the door without paying for his meal. none of the waitresses notice. riche strides briskly down the sidewalk, trying to run away without drawing too much attention. he can hear henry's heavy footsteps on the concrete behind him. ever since victor, belch, and patrick died, henry has been tormenting richie even more than usual. although he lost his whole crew, he's still fucking insane. eventually he'll catch up the richie and make him pay for whatever he didn't mean to do this time. richie half-jogs to bill's house, thinking that at least he won't be alone in getting overpowered by henry. but instead of coming after him onto the front porch, henry just stands there and shouts,"run to your fucking boyfriend, faggot," which is just what rich is trying to do. henry watches as he opens the door without knocking, finally flicking up his middle finger at richie's back.
•••
up in bill's room, richie is straddling him, kissing him with an unexpected gentleness. he's been doing this for what, an hour now? and yet bill has been the perfect gentleman, cradling him and not pressuring anything beyond kissing. their hands are entangled between them, and bill breaks free from it to run his fingers down richie's arm, guiding his hand to his own red hair, then notices that richie is shaking. "baby, what's the matter? you're shivering like you're jacked on caffeine," bill speaks against richie's cheek. his lips stop moving along bill's neck and he pulls back, eyes shifting around. beads of sweat slip down his hairline to his nose. "come on rich, you can tell me anything," bill's voice is soft, and it lets richie know that he doesn't have to talk until he is ready. they sit in comfortable, warm silence for a while before richie's cracking voice breaks it. "i saw henry bowers today. he followed me to your house," he cringes as the words escape his lips. "love, henry bowers doesn't even live here anymore. he moved when we were twelve."

+

woAh plot twist it isnt bill whos seeing the ghosts