𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 / 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞✔️

twenty// how the losers became the losers

Would any of you read a stozier story if I write it?
—
    

     Right above Richies bed was a Polaroid picture of Eddie and Richie "kissing" (their lips barely hovered, well, eddies did. Richie definitely kissed) Freddie Mercury's cheek, while the other band members fake gasped in shock. The picture was beautiful, and the Polaroid had queen written in black marker at the bottom.
     Eddie smiled at the picture every time he saw it, and traced his finger where Freddie Mercury stood, but unfortunately he had only seen the picture twice. The first when it was taken, the second when Richie hung it on his wall with clear scotch tape.
     Neither of them admitted that they were avoiding each other, because they weren't really. They just no longer waved when they passed in the halls or hugged good morning.
     To be honest, Richie missed eddies calls.
     He missed his sweet voice, begging to do something other than be stuck with his mom. He remembers one particular evening like it was an hour ago.
     "Tozier residence," a sigh went over the line.
     "Richie, get me out of his damn house."
     "Feisty, hm, Eddie spaghetti?"
     "Shut up, and don't call me that! I hate it when you call me that."
     "Oh, you love it! That's what makes you so..Chuckalicious!"
     "Ew, Richie."
     "How about ice skating, my deah?"
     "And me risk getting a cold? No way."
     "Oh c'mon honey bun, ya won't get a cold, ill-uh make sure of it-uh too. Ya can even wear me coat if she must!"
     "Was that Southern, Italian, and some pirate accent in two sentences? And I'm not a she! I'm very much happy with the gender I was assigned at birth thank you."
     "I'm a man of many talents, sugah. So that's a yes on ice skating?"
     "If it means you'll shut up, absolutely. But I'm wearing a jacket, scarf, knee high socks, boots, a hat, oh god what if I do get a cold-"
     "Nonsense, Eds. You'll sweat to death, a t-shirt, jacket, and jeans 'll do."
     "Promise?"
     "Promise."

     It makes Richie smile every time he thinks about it.
     He hadn't received a call like that in, I dunno, a week?
     Richie was dying to change that, though.
     If only he had the courage.

—

     "I'm telling you Bill! He hates me now!" Eddie exclaimed, tossing his hands into the air.
     "He kisses back, huh...how does he hate you?" Bill quirked an eyebrow. He's the only one who knows about eddies forbidden, terribly gay thoughts.
     "I don't know bill mental breakdowns are never based on actual logic," Eddie let out a huff of exasperation. "I don't smoke but I could really use a cigarette."
     Bill sighed, watching closely to how Eddie curls in on himself, seeming discouraged with no reason to be.
     "He puh..paid for you to go to a Queen cuh...concert, you kissed him, he told you he luh...loved you, what's the uh...issue again?" Bill was getting tired of the pining, as were all of the losers club, but Eddie was literally on the bridge of losing his mind, he was dangling by his two pinkies, holding on with all his might, one shift of his hand in the wrong direction and he's tumbling to the engulfing, unappealing abyss below him.
     "He hasn't talked to me since the day after the concert better known as The Kiss."
     "I cuh..can feel the capitalization uh...in your voice-"
     "This was an important event! It was like the Bloody Tea Party inside my head!"
     "Wasn't it the Buh...Boston massacre?"
     "Unimportant."
     "Suh..sorry."
     "I just don't want it to end up like our real first kiss," Eddie mumbled.
     Bills eyes go wide, "you kuh..kissed him before this?"
     "Long story, but yeah."
     "I have tuh..ti-"
     "Not explaining it."
     "Yes ma'am."
     "Sir."
     "Muh...Ma'am."
     Eddie sighed, causing bill to giggle. They sat under the illuminance of the street lamp above them, the bench they sit on had probably been there for years. The wood creaked beneath their weight.
     "Juh...just give him some time. Huh..he'll warm uh..up to yuh...you again uh..eventually."
     "Okay..thanks Bill."
     Eddie planted a gentle kiss onto the taller boy's cheek, a platonic one. Neither had any romantic tendencies, and they liked it that way. Just kids being kids. Eddie missed the innocence of being a kid.
     Eddie missed the longing and freedom you had, you didn't have any responsibilities. You didn't worry about boyfriends and girlfriends or who loves who. You didn't know you were gay.
     He missed being able to run around the playground, slipping from the larger hand of Bill while playing tag.
     Bill and Eddie had been best friends since kindergarten, everything Eddie did Bill did, and vice versa.
     Then they met Richie Tozier and Stanley Uris in the second grade.
     Richie and Stan had been best friends since diapers, their mothers were very close. They'd found out they were both having a baby together, and they were so excited to raise their children together.
     Mrs. Tozier had hopes for a girl, and Mrs. Uris had hopes a boy. They hoped their kids would grow up to get married and start a family of their own.
     Mrs. Uris found out her son was going to be a boy and broke into tears, Maggie held her in her arms and they smiled so wide she could've sworn her cheeks were about to fall clean off her face. Then Mrs. Tozier went up, got tested, and came back with cold eyes and a shocked face.
     She said "boy" then left, just like that.
     They were still determined for their babies to grow up together, and eventually, Maggie gave up.
     Mrs. Uris noticed how she neglected her son, ignored his needs, told him to go get some himself when he asked if she could make him a peanut butter sandwich.
     Mrs. Uris blatantly ignored the acts of ignorance as if it'd never happened to begin with, just like most others in Derry.
     Bill, Stan, Eddie, and Richie became
closer than ever after that. The four were unstoppable. Bill, the charming one. Stan, the smart one. Richie, the witty one; and Eddie. Eddie, the kind one.
     They got around pretty well, because they knew if they stayed in a group, nothing could get him. Not even Henry Bowers.
     Then came the summer of sixth grade.
     A chubby, beaten up boy came running into the barrens, dirt littering him from head to toe, that alone making Eddie clench his fanny pack. He looked like a walking disease.
     "Bowers," he breathed, looking around in hopes of finding a hideaway, a trench, a tree, a rock, somewhere safe.
     Richie, being the one who understands the most, pointed in the direction of a rock with a small sliver he was only able to fit in because he was skinny, but not the skinniest. That was Eddie.
     The chubby kid ducked behind it, just barely fitting in between the gap, and as if on cue a shorter, less intimidating Henry Bowers and Patrick Hockstetter slid down the rocks.
     He tried to get them to budge, asked them if he'd see a "porker" around. They denied, and they left.
     They waited for the minimum of five minutes after theyd disappeared in then array of trees before Richie helped Ben out of their now shared hiding spot.
     "Uh...uh...I'm guh...gues-sing you're the puh..puh...por..porker?" Bill managed, his stutter was worse than it is now.
     Ben nodded, wiping his chin. It had dried blood, but it no longer hurt. He'd probably scraped it on the downfall.
     "Why hello there, 'ol chap! Whaddya say, pal? Head on down to the pharmacy, aka eddies faaaavorite place to hang out, eh, eh?" Richie elbowed Eddie in the side, pinching his cheek with his other hand.
     Eddie swatted quickly at the hands on his face, his cheeks heating. "It's not my favorite place, dunderhead!"
     This was his substitute for dipshit.
     "Eddie cracks a good one- sorta! Wakawakawa!" Richie hits non-existent drums with his non-existent drumsticks, causing only Ben to quirk a small smile.
     "They're so gay," Stan scoffs, flipping back through his bird book.
     "I am not!" Richie says defensively, flicking stan on the forehead.
     And then they ran across mike in town, while he was making a delivery for his grandpa later on that summer.
     Lastly, was Beverly Marsh.
     Now, Beverly and Richie have a close connection. No one knows whether it's the cigarettes or the way their loud, witty personalities clash together to make one, loudmouth duo that agrees on everything.
     And they smoke together 24/7, but that's unimportant.
     This is what made The Losers The Losers.
     "Earth to eh..eds," Bill stuttered, waving at him.
     Eddie shivered slightly, turning to face bill and mumbling a quick apology.