ethereal : it oneshots

it was cold on that rooftop

pairing: reddie

when bitches get drunk they vomit! emetophobia tw!

"eds! you're here! thank god," richie bounded over to me, waving wildly. i immediately knew he was drunk. he was richie, why wouldn't he be drunk at a party? and beverly's party, too.

i was a little concerned, because, you know, it's a party on a rooftop, and he's moving wildly. he shouldn't fall off, but what if he did? little things like that. i never liked rooftop parties, if i'm honest. not a fan of heights. if you had asked me four years ago, when i was 14, i would have said i didn't like parties at all. that still slightly rings true, i guess. but now i like the alcohol element. you can guess why.

"richie, hi" i greeted him as he wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me and picking me up. "richie, i can't really breathe," he put me down, thank god. but i kind of missed his arms around me, that was nice.

"eddie, i've been waiting for you to come all night! stan and bill are so boring! bill isn't even drinking! can you believe that?" richie whined to me, taking my hand and pulling me through the crowd back to where he had been. he pointed at bill with his mouth open, who awkwardly waved. i waved back and turned to richie.

"i'm not surprised," i shrugged, richie pouting.

bill doesn't really drink. stanley does, but not to richie's extent. richie wasn't drinking with bev that night because it was beverly's party, and therefore she had to make sure she didn't get in lots of shit with her landlord by staying sober. i get drunk sometimes, but i've only ever been blackout drunk once. that's according to stan, because i passed out and had no clue.

"drink with me, eddie-baby," richie said, grabbing a drink recklessly and spilling a little of it onto the ground. he stared at the ground where he had spilt it for a second, and then shrugged. i giggled at him. it may have been a dumb thing to giggle at, but he's cute, okay? i took the cup from him and he grabbed a second one, then quickly, he linked our arms. laughing a little bit, we both took pretty big sips from the red solo cups you've seen in movies.

i'm a lightweight, you see, which means it didn't take long until i was stumbling around with richie. stan was babysitting us but he didn't really care, much more caught up with staring at bill while bill talked to mike. richie and i bumped into some big burly guy at some point, and we had to apologize around 40 times for the guy to not beat us up. terrifying.

"eds, i'm so glad you can get drunk with me. you're my favourite." richie said, slinging an arm around my shoulder. he said my name in almost every sentence he said to me that night. i don't know why. and, as much as he's done it to me my entire life, every time he touches me in any way, i just, i don't know... i guess my heart beats quicker. side effects of pining, i suppose.

"thanks! you're my favourite too. don't tell mike. he's second, though. close second. but you... tippity wippity top!" i replied, leaning further into him. he cheered, and i laughed.

i wasn't as drunk as i sound. richie was pretty much blackout drunk. he didn't know it, of course, but later, he'd tell me he couldn't remember anything after i showed up. with that in mind, the rest of this story is a little more dismal.

by the way, i told him i didn't remember either.

"you're the best, eddie-bear!" he said, and then immediately, "i have to vomit."

we found our way to a door, and then inside, and quickly, to a bathroom. there, richie puked his guts out. gross. i couldn't stand it, so i left. he was fine with that, and he told me he'd catch up with me in a second. i felt better the moment i stepped back out, fresh air and all that. i found my way to the edge of the roof and i sat down. it just felt like the thing to do. there was a barrier behind me, for those concerned. i couldn't just fall off the roof.