Chapter Text
Richie breathed in the fresh morning air, the breeze whipping past him and scattering the loose strands of his hair to the wind as he pedaled along on his cousin's stolen bike.
Oh, that? Yeah, he had stolen Mike's bike.
And, well, what else was he supposed to do? If he was a guest in that house, the least he could get was some way to get around, even if he had to help himself to it. How was he supposed to go bother Will with no method of getting to him? Walking? No, thanks.
Also, Mike was still a fucking asshole and if he got mad when he noticed – he thought, as if that wasn't a given – then he could choke on a big fat chode, for all that Richie cared.
Though it wasn't like there was anything in the world that could have possibly brought Richie back down from the high he had been in when he got back to the house yesterday, Mike had certainly been trying.
Even worse was the fact that Richie was pretty sure he had been attempting to restrain himself and be civil, which was hilarious considering he still had been side eyeing Richie with all the contempt of a guy who found his house was infested with rats but everyone else in the household kept trying to have tea parties with them.
He had even, at one point, scowled at him directly, an intense expression full of scrutiny, analysing.
"Why are you acting like that?" he had asked him.
Richie had shrugged, whistling as he put the dishes away after dinner. He'd actually volunteered which was crazy but he was just so goddam giddy from kissing Will that he could hardly keep still. And, he figured, it wouldn't hurt to do a little ass kissing and get on his aunt's good side. Just as a precaution, before he inevitably got himself into some trouble where he could use some grace on her part.
"Like what?"
"I don't know," Mike had replied, crossing his arms. "You're just like...weirdly happy. I don't like it."
Well, no shit.
He didn't know what to say.
Honestly, who in the world wouldn't be borderline skipping around and smiling like a weirdo after spending hours making out with Will Byers? If there was a single guy out there who disagreed Richie had to question if they were right in the head.
Like, come on. Even Mike would agree.
"NANCY!" Richie had screamed the moment he noticed her passing by, causing her to double back and peer into the room towards them. "Your brother just told me he wants me to be miserable forever."
Mike had sputtered, glaring at him and turning quickly towards his sister.
"I didn't say that."
So, yeah, he'd say the bike stealing was justified. Morally speaking.
He wondered if it was a dick move to steal a guy's bike to go see the boy you stole from him too.
Richie snickered at the thought.
Oh, who cared? Honestly, it wasn't like Richie had done that deliberately. It wasn't his fault that Mike didn't realize what he had before he lost it. Because Richie did realize it. He saw Will and now that he knew what it felt like to have him, he would never let go without putting up one hell of a fight.
Anyways.
He hadn't been sure he'd actually remember the way to Will's house by memory. Last time they'd done the journey between the Byers’ and the Wheeler's it had been in the opposite direction, and obviously, any time Richie rode with Will he had a hard time concentrating on their surroundings. How was he supposed to care about any of that when he had his arms around Will?
He was proud to say though, that he only got lost twice on the way before he was pulling up to the familiar house.
He carelessly let the bike fall on its side. Not his bike, not his problem, it had already served its purpose.
He thought about knocking on the front door. It would be the normal thing to do, he guessed. But, well. Yesterday Will had gone on a whole heist to see him. He had already stolen a bike, he could sneak around too. Besides, Mike was bound to figure out his bike was gone and go looking for him eventually. If nobody knew where he was, it would take far longer for him to get into trouble. And it bought him more time with Will.
He walked around the house, scanning for Will's window. He had only gotten an idea of the general layout of the house from the inside, not the outside, but it wasn't too difficult to translate one to the other.
He peeked into the room, raising on his tiptoes, checking that Will was actually in.
And yeah, there he was, sitting at his desk, turned away from Richie.
From here it was a bit hard to make out what he was doing, but it looked like he was drawing something while nodding his head rhythmically to the beat of whatever music was coming from the headphones covering his ears, which were connected to a walkman also sitting on the desk by his sketchbook.
He took a moment to look at him, coming closer to the glass of the closed window, his fingers holding onto the ledge.
A dumb smile stretched across his face at his easy demeanor. He looked calm, happy, kicking his legs under the table, his mouth moving soundlessly along to the lyrics.
Richie shook his head then, willing himself to pull his gaze away. Jesus, he was acting like a total creep. This was stalker behaviour.
He wasn't here to spy in on Will, he had just gotten a little distracted. Will was beautiful, it was hard to not stop and stare just a little bit.
He raised a hand and knocked firmly on the glass but Will, with his headphones on, was unable to hear him.
Ah, shit. He had not considered that.
He knocked again, putting more force into it, trying to make the sound louder. Still nothing.
He checked the window, trying to see if he could pry it open from the outside, but he couldn't. Probably a good thing, to be fair. All he managed to do was make the frame shake and the glass panels rattle.
Something about that though, must have caught Will's attention because his eyes slid to the window and caught on Richie.
He saw the way his body tensed for a moment, startling before he fully took in who it was exactly that was there. A reaction to seeing a figure right outside his room he had not been expecting.
Welp, Richie should have thought that through.
He tried making his whole face visible to the inside of the room, coming closer and beaming widely while waving at Will.
Will blinked in surprise, absentmindedly pressing pause on his walkman and removing his headphones before walking towards the window with a slight frown, even as his expression still held an undercurrent of amusement.
He slid the window open and leaned out towards Richie, who had stepped back to allow him to.
"Richie?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Coming to see you, obviously." He leaned forward now to rest his crossed arms on the window sill, between where Will's hands rested on it as well as he leaned out. "How's my pretty boy doing today?"
Will rolled his eyes but Richie still watched the usual flush spread along his cheeks, settling a deep satisfaction within him that sank in his gut with a pleased hum.
"How did you even get here?" Will asked instead, sidestepping Richie's comments and bringing the conversation back around.
"Oh. I took a page out of your book and stole a bike," he announced smugly, prompting Will to glare playfully down at him.
"When have you seen me steal a bike?"
"I didn't mean that specifically, just, you know. The bad boy book. Of rule breaking."
"Uh-huh," Will said, trying to keep his mouth pressed into a straight line while it betrayed him and slanted into a sideways smile.
"I think you might be the one who's being a bad influence on me,” Richie said “Tsk tsk, and you have everyone so fooled." He pursed his lips and shook his head disapprovingly.
"Whose bike even is it?" Will asked with mild exasperation, craning his neck to look around and behind Richie, probably to check if he could see it. He wouldn't from here, he'd left it closer to the woods.
"Mike's, obviously. Who else would I steal from? I don't think Holly's is quite my style.”
Will sighed.
"Yeah, I guess I should have guessed that." He squinted lightly at him, his nose doing a cute scrunch that Richie desperately wanted to kiss. "I just fixed things with him yesterday, you couldn't even wait one day before doing something to make him mad again?"
"Pshh, he'll get over it" Richie shrugged dismissively. Whatever conversation Will had had with Mike about recent events didn't really have anything to do with him. He hadn't promised anyone anything.
"Okay." Will looked up to the heavens disbelievingly. "And what possessed you to do it anyways?"
"Oh, William. It was an emergency, a truly urgent matter. I had to." He tried leaning closer to Will, conspiratorial, ignoring the suspicion in his eyes as he tried to gauge exactly where Richie was going with this and what kind of joke he was angling for.
"Yeah? What is it?" he asked, in that same wary tone.
"I need kisses! Now! I'm sick and dying and the only cure is your saliva in my mouth," he whined with exaggerated desperation. But only by a little bit, he did really want it.
"Ew," Will said, monotone.
“Don't ew me, you know you love it."
And wasn't that a thought? He could still feel the phantom touch of Will's lips on his from yesterday. It had kept him up at night, as he brought his fingers to his mouth and dissolved in half-hysterical breathless giggling.
It wasn't only because he had gotten to kiss Will. No, it was because Will had kissed him. While Richie had been goading him into it and asking him for it, Will had been the one who ultimately dragged him into that first kiss.
And he had come back for more, as had Richie.
He had no doubt that Will must be thinking along the same lines as he was, or at least he hoped so, hoped that he wanted a repeat of yesterday as badly as he did.
The thought by itself felt like what he imagined shooting up drugs into his veins might feel like. His ears rung and something in his heart fluttered just thinking about getting to do it all again.
"Not when you say it like that," Will replied matter-of-fact but Richie wasn't deterred.
"But you've created an addiction. I'm suffering from withdrawals already and you're cruelly keeping the remedy away from me. Take responsibility."
He puckered his lips and closed his eyes, hoping to make Will laugh and be more lenient towards him. It worked, he could hear a clear tinkling laugh burst through him, sweet like the sound of wind chimes in the breeze.
What he didn't expect, however, was the pressure he felt against his mouth then, as Will gave in to his begging and gifted him a soft kiss.
Despite all the time they had spent kissing yesterday, it still made him feel unsteady, and so he leant his weight more heavily on the ledge of the window.
When Will tried to pull back he kept inching forward, chasing him, unwilling to pull apart from him just yet. Will pushed him away with a gentle shove against his chest though, another sweet laugh of his ringing through the air.
"Come on," Will said and Richie opened his eyes, blinking blearily, still a bit dazed from the kiss. "Just come inside already."
"That's what she said." It was ingrained too deep into Richie to stop himself, especially when he was running on automatic. It was so hard to recover regular brain function whenever he kissed Will. The effect was that the joke came out less with the tone and emphasis of a punchline and more wavery and breathy.
Will crossed his arms, stepping away from the window.
"I will close the window and make you go back, I swear."
"Nooo," Richie whined. "I'm coming, I'm coming." He said as he pushed himself up, trying to duck and squeeze through the opening.
When he looked up at Will, his body still half outside and the ledge digging into his stomach, he caught the way Will's expression did something funny. A smile appeared that he quickly flattened, pressing his lips together before he opened his mouth.
"And that's what he said."
Richie wheezed, scrabbling to keep his hold on the window pane and the wall inside of the room, his stomach protesting against the scrape as his laughter forced it to expand and contract in the uncomfortable position.
"Fuck off," he complained as he managed to make his way fully inside, dropping into the room and inmedialty collapsing to the floor with more laughter.
Between the slits of his half-closed eyes, squinting up, he could see Will was also laughing, trying to hide his mouth behind one hand as he looked down at Richie.
"You're such an asshole. Bet your friends don't know that," Richie said as he sat up properly on the floor.
"It's like I've said. You bring it out of me."
Richie stood up with unsteady legs, overcome with his feelings for this boy who could give him whiplash like nobody else and stepped towards him.
Will startled momentarily when Richie rose so suddenly, having to tilt his head up to look into his eyes. But, when Richie grabbed hold of his hips and crashed their mouths together, he quickly melted into him, only taking him a moment to reciprocate and settle his hands on Richie's shoulders as his eyes fluttered shut.
Richie pulled back and then back in, pressing quick kisses against Will's lips as he giggled at the action, the kisses turning slightly awkward as he tried to press them against his growing smile.
Will's joy tasted like honey and sunlight. He wanted to savour it each chance he got.
Richie could hardly believe how things had turned out in the end given his initial reservations. He could confidently say that the time he spent in Hawkins was bound to become some of his most treasured memories, a time filled with brightness. Not even when the world tried, could they touch what Richie and Will had built together.
It wasn't even only the time spent with Will even if, for obvious reasons, that was the clear highlight of the summer.
No, Will actually took the whole everyone in The Party has to hang out together thing pretty seriously, and he very deliberately came up with plans for all of them and then made sure they were executed.
Richie didn't protest, even if it cut into his alone-with-Will time significantly.
After all, he understood what Will was doing.
He was proving to himself that a balance was possible even when you were wrapped up in a brand new and exciting relationship, and that finding something like what they had, and what the other couples had, didn't have to detract from the importance of their friendships.
Well, maybe he hadn't quite understood at first, whining splayed over Will's bed as he figured out plans, trying to entice him into blocking all his free time for him. He'd even promised he could make it worthwhile while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Will, but he had only gotten his face shoved away for the trouble, with Will insisting that he'd have fun too with the rest of the party. He had explained the rest of his reasoning then, which Richie had no option but to reluctantly agree with.
In the end, he had to concede Will had been right.
If only because Max, Lucas and El were pretty fun to spend time with.
As for Mike...
It was pretty damn transparent to Richie what was going on with him, even if he himself might not have even realized it. Unlike the time before Richie came to Hawkins, where Will had said Mike had been entirely too wrapped up in El to care too much about The Party as a whole, he now was quick to jump on any idea offered by Will.
Mike was taking any opportunity to ensure Will and Richie didn't spend all of their time alone together, clearly.
He was seething with jealousy, and he didn't even see all of the reasons why he should be. Richie found it endlessly hilarious, even if to some extent it was also kind of sad. Like, in a pathetic way.
The thing that kept him from feeling much pity for him though – Aside, of course, from the fact that he liked Will far too much to even consider giving him up – was knowing that it was only now, seeing Will pull away, that he was motivated to keep him closer.
That was such bullshit. He was half suspicious already that, once he was gone, Mike would somehow revert back to the way he had been acting before he arrived, perceiving the threat to be gone. As if he hadn't been the one causing the damage in the first place.
So, yeah. Mike could still choke.
"Okay," Lucas said. "So after it's loaded with water, you shoot it like this." Lucas demonstrated for El's benefit as she watched him carefully with her hands behind her back.
He handled the water gun like it was an actual weapon and he was in a life-or-death situation as he pointed and shot straight at Mike's back where he was arguing with Max.
Mike turned around, an outraged expression on his face as he let out a frankly embarrassing squeak.
"What the hell, Lucas?!" he yelled, his face growing red with anger. "That was completely unnecessary."
Everyone ignored his outburst, breaking into laughter at his expense, which did nothing to cut off his tantrum.
Richie looked to his side at Will, sitting on the grass beside him and hiding his own snort at the scene by turning his face aside. It gave Richie a view of the back of his head, at the hair sticking with sweat to his neck and the sides of his face.
Today had been another hot day, this summer in Hawkins was turning out to be full of those. So, to combat that and deprived of being able to go to the public pool if they wanted El with them, here they were, in Sinclair's backyard in swimsuits, armed with a ridiculous amount of water guns.
Richie had asked Will why they couldn't just go to the quarry again, it had seemed decently deserted the last time, and the water was actually pretty clean and cool but Will had simply grimaced and said it was best not to even bring that up in front of the rest of The Party.
He had remembered then that just because Will wasn't traumatised by a fake corpse made out to be him being dragged out of there, that was only because, unlike everything else that happened to him, he hadn't actually been around for that, just heard about it second hand. It seemed as though for the rest of the group it had been much rougher, so he kept his mouth shut.
Honestly, he wasn't sure where the idea to do this instead had even come from. He was betting on Lucas though, he looked far too gleeful as he settled the water gun into El's hands, satisfied with his demonstration and ignoring Mike's continued protests behind him. Besides, he was sure most of these things were Lucas', which is why they were in his backyard in the first place.
"Is your hair bothering you again?" he asked Will impulsively, seeing him bat the sticky strands away from his skin.
"Yeah," Will huffed, turning back towards him as they continued to ignore the sounds of the other four, the arguing turning to the topic of teams and rules. "Last time, Max told me I could keep the hair tie if I wanted," he explained as he raised his hand, showing that he was wearing it around his wrist. "But I'm not sure if I can tie it properly by myself and I don't want to bother her right now."
"I'll do it." It burst out of Richie before he even thought it through. It was too enticing to pass up, the opportunity to get his hands all up in Will's hair, those soft stands slipping through his fingers.
Will looked at him incredulously, a half smile showing through his baffled expression, his eyebrows pinching together.
"Do you even know how to?"
"Can't be that difficult." He tried his best attempt at a confident smile.
Please say yes, please say yes.
"Hmmm," Will hummed, before tugging the hair tie off his wrist and holding it out for Richie. YES. "Okay, let's see you try," he added before turning his back to him.
Hell yes.
Richie took the proffered hair tie and then realized just how fucking lost about what he was supposed to do he was.
Okay, no. This shit couldn't be that hard.
First things first, he couldn't gather the hair with his hands occupied but he needed the hair tie close for when he did. Otherwise he would end up unable to tie it without letting go and losing his progress, right?
"Richie?" Will asked, since he had still not moved.
"Shhh. Patience, Byers. You can't rush art."
Will let out a small laugh, a huff out of his nose as Richie continued contemplating the process he had to follow.
He slid the hair tie onto his own wrist. Yeah, that would work, that was probably why girls wore these like that sometimes.
He finally, blessedly, got his hands into Will's hair.
He, maybe, took a little advantage of his privileged position, raking both hands through the bottom of it and up towards the top part of his head, sliding across his scalp.
It was completely validated by the soft sigh that escaped Will's mouth as a result and the way his shoulders dropped, calm and relaxed.
He did his best to gather the hair together in a coherent way, trying not to let rogue strands slip out the sides. It was, he had to admit, more difficult than he imagined. Not the basics of it, just making it actually look neat and good, instead of like weirdly shaped things with raised valleys and mountains of hair all over Will's scalp. He kept dragging his fingers through, like a makeshift comb to try to get it all in line. It was mostly working, and also seemed like if he kept at it much longer Will might straight up fall asleep right there.
When he finally felt happy enough with the result, he had to do his best to keep it all in place with just one hand as he used the other one to wiggle the hair tie from his wrist to the gathered hair and then tried to twist it around it a few times without undoing all of his hard work.
"Are you done?" Will asked.
Richie stared at the fruit of his efforts. The result was a little lopsided but it didn't look terrible.
Right under the now tied up hair, Richie's gaze was caught by a smattering of moles of different sizes that were spread over the back of Will's neck and down his shoulders.
He ripped his attention from there and back to the rest of The Party momentarily.
"So. Like this?" El asked, raising the water gun in her hands to point at Mike, who immediately raised his hands in shock, mouth dropping open in a betrayed expression.
She shot at him but the water never reached him, instead it suddenly zig-zagged in the air and hit Lucas straight in the face, making him stumble in surprise.
"That's cheating," Lucas protested, swiping water away from his eyes. "No powers allowed."
At some point, after the whole drama that came from Will telling Richie all about the stuff that had gone on in Hawkins in the previous years, the rest of them had had some sort of talk about it. Richie had not been present for it, which kinda sucked but he also understood.
He wasn't sure exactly what was said at the time, but apparently the result was that everyone was cool with Richie knowing. He suspected the whole reason it had turned out well was because Will had personally asked El before telling him some of the most crucial parts they were trying to keep hidden.
He was still learning more about all that, getting to hear from her some of the stuff she had gone through during her childhood being raised as some sort of science experiment and all that happened when she escaped. Shit was wild. It was a good thing she was getting to enjoy some time with her friends during the summer.
It also helped that he had his own stories to tell about what had happened back in Derry, though he wasn't sure if everyone believed him like Will did. Mike certainly didn't, or at least didn't want to. But Max and Lucas though skeptical seemed to accept it, while El didn't question it beyond asking for details out of curiosity.
"Booo" Max heckled Lucas. "It makes things more interesting, I'm all for it."
Mike was too busy laughing at Lucas in retaliation for the shot earlier to reply, pointing at him while he cackled, his other hand clutching his stomach.
Max rolled her eyes and raised her own water gun, aiming at Mike and taking advantage of his distraction, squirting water directly into his open mouth and making him gargle and choke on his laughter before he coughed it up and spat it to the ground.
"What the fuck, Max?!" he yelled at her.
They weren't looking at them, they were plenty distracted with their own shit.
So Richie allowed himself to shift closer for just a moment, so he could lay a gentle kiss to the back of Will's neck, right on top of one of those precious dots.
He could see from this up close the effect it had on Will, the way goosebumps formed over his skin as his hair raised and a shiver went down his back.
He turned to Richie, alarmed, covering the back of his neck with one hand while his widened eyes, large like saucers, fixed back on him before sliding sideways to check on the rest of his friends.
"Hey. I'm not stupid. No one was looking," he reassured him and Will bit his lip while his tension dropped, looking anywhere but him.
"Still a bad idea," he mumbled.
"Really? Because it looked like you really liked it."
Will glared at him, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and hunching over as embarrassment showed plainly on his face. To Will's clear chagrin it only made Richie laugh in delight.
He couldn't help being a little reckless when it came to Will. Which was crazy, because only a few months ago he had pretty much resigned himself to a life of hiding who he was, of pushing it all down and hoping it simply went away one day, too disgusted by what he wanted and what he stood to lose to face himself.
But Will was like him, and he was perfect as he was, so Richie couldn't hate himself without hating him as well. That was one thing he just couldn't do.
Oh, don't get him wrong, he was still terrified. It was just that when he was with Will that fear mellowed out enough that he could actually forget it at times. It felt like he could breathe for the first time in years, since he started realizing exactly in which ways he was different from other boys, from the rest of his friends.
Will was just magical like that.
"Hey, guys!" Lucas yelled, making them both turn towards the sound of his voice.
Both he and El were standing there, turned in their direction while Max and Mike were ducking and weaving and trying to spray water at each other to varying levels of success.
"We're figuring out the teams," Lucas said before side-eyeing the other two. "I think."
As soon as she heard that, Max straightened up and rushed towards El, to hook her arm through hers.
"I call dibs on El," she announced, turning to look at the other girl. "What do you say? Girls versus boys? We can show these idiots who's boss around here."
"Fucking terrifying," Richie leaned to whisper at Will, who only snorted while he grimaced in agreement.
"Hey!" Mike complained. "That's not fair. Why do you get to team up with El? I'm her boyfriend, we should be on the same team."
El tilted her head to the side pensively.
"No. I want to team up with Max. I like her idea."
Mike's mouth hung open in dismay.
"That's bullshit. What?"
"Wait" Lucas interjected. "Does that mean the two of you against the four of us? Isn't that a little unbalanced?"
"Weren't you complaining about El's powers being unfair?" Richie asked, still sitting down on the grass and squinting up at Lucas through the glare of the sun. It reflected off his glasses and made him feel slightly blinder than usual. "If the teams are unbalanced, I don't think it's in our favor, hot-shot."
"What? Are you scared of us wiping the floor with you with half your numbers?" Max grinned at Lucas with a clear challenge in her expression.
El bent in Max's direction to whisper something in her ear as Max's eyes surveyed the group, making her stop in thought. "If you're so worried about the numbers, Will can join our team, if he wants to be on the side of the winners, that is." They both stared at him, Max's smile sharp and wicked while El's was more gentle.
"What?!" exclaimed Lucas. "Why him?!"
"He's the least stupid boy in here, that gets him our respect and entry into our team," Max explained with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, while El nodded in agreement.
Richie finally stood up, helping Will up along with him and grabbing the water guns they had already been given, and that they had left laying beside them.
"No way," Richie said. "You can't take Will too, he wouldn't abandon us to our luck. Would you?" he asked the other boy.
Will crossed his arms, his water gun dangling from one of his hands as he closed his eyes and affected a thoughtful expression, before opening them to grin at Richie.
"I don't know. They make a compelling argument. They are clearly the winning team."
"Gasp!"
"You really need to stop saying that instead of actually gasping."
Richie turned towards Will, pointing his water gun at him, doing his best impression of a character in an action movie. Will, in response, mirrored his movement, training his own weapon on Richie.
"You traitor, how could you do this to me?" Richie dismayed.
As they stood there in that faux tense standoff, Richie caught a glint in Will's eyes and a flash of understanding passed between the both of them as Will slid his gaze briefly towards the group and then back to Richie with a hint of that sly smirk he had gotten so used to whenever Will allowed himself to be a little evil.
They turned simultaneously, Will spraying water at Mike while Richie focused his attack on Max.
"What the fuck?"
"Dude!"
They both exclaimed as they stumbled in place from the surprise.
Richie grabbed Will's arm and pulled him along with him as he stepped back in preparation for retaliation and yelled out towards the group.
"Me and Will are rebelling! We're on our own team!"
Mike made a frustrated and exasperated gesture, raising his arms above his head before dropping them again.
Max, on the other hand, cocked her water gun and stared at them menacingly, a threat easily readable in her eyes.
"You're going to regret that," she promised.
Richie couldn't help but laugh along with Will, even as they both knew her threat was something to take seriously, stumbling back further to try to get in a good position while the other two pairs rushed to coordinate an attack, knowing they both would be gunning for them first.
He stared sidelong at Will, at his pleased giddy smile and couldn't help himself from one last comment before the fighting started for real.
"Oh, Will?" he said, catching his attention and making him turn his head to him with a questioning tilt. He poked at the back of Will's neck with one finger, right where he had kissed him so there would be no doubt as to what he meant with his next words. "Maybe next time I'll bite."
Will's eyes widened again and he turned his head to hide his reaction, but he was unable to keep Richie from seeing the blush of his skin as it took over the back of his neck as well.
God, how he wished the world was a different place, so he could kiss Will right now, in front of all of his stupid friends without fear of their reactions making bile rise up his throat.
Hours later, with all of them soaked to the bone, Mike asked, "Wait, how do we know who won?"
"Did you get all that?" Will asked from his spot on top of his bed, surrounded by books, drawings and character sheets. The mess extended to the floor, where Richie was splayed, kicking at the side of the bed with his socked feet.
"Sure," he replied.
Will leveled an annoyed look at him, closing the D&D rule book he had opened on his lap with a loud thud.
"I don't think you've taken in a single thing I've said."
"No, I have." He raised his head to meet Will's gaze more directly, resting his weight on his elbows. "You ask to do a thing, you roll the dice, boom! You get told if you can do it"
"There's more to it than that," Will said with a mild glare.
"Ughhh," Richie groaned, letting his body flop back down fully onto the floor. "That's like the gist of it. All I'm hearing is oh you can do that but you can't do this and rules, rules, rules. It's more fun to figure a game out as you play anyway. I'll pick it up fast, I promise."
Will huffed, uncrossing his legs before sliding to the floor, resting his back against the side of the bed by Richie's feet.
"I just want the session to go well," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his knees and hiding his face in them. "It's been so long since we've had a proper one," he added, his voice muffled by his position. "But no one even cares anymore."
Richie sighed, sitting up and sliding along the floor to settle in front of Will, cross-legged.
"Okay, why is this so important to you?" He ducked his head to try to catch Will's eye.
Will lifted his own head in response, just barely, letting one of his green eyes peek through the curtain of his brown hair like a stray leaf surrounded by the bark of the forest trees.
"I don't know. I guess it's a little stupid. Everyone is just growing up faster than me and I'm stuck in the past like a loser just because I can't get over all the time I lost being missing or possessed."
Damn, Richie felt bad now. The last thing he wanted was to make Will feel like this, like the things he was into didn't matter and others were right for not caring.
He bent his face towards Will, resting his mouth against the other boy’s arms so that his lips graced his skin when he talked.
"I'm sorry," he said reluctantly. "I'm not good with stuff like this. All the rules and stuff? I don't know, it just gets mixed up in my head sometimes. I have a hard time recalling all of it by memory if i’m not actually playing. I can't really wrap my head around it if I'm not actively doing something with it."
It was the reason Richie much preferred video games. There, it was all about doing, over and over until he got it right and his body learnt what it had to do for him, allowing his brain to switch mostly off, his hands automatically choosing the right moves. Also, as far as constraining rules went, you didn't have to learn them because the game would physically stop you from breaking them. It was perfect.
"No, I'm sorry," Will mumbled. "I know you don't really care about D&D. I'm practically forcing you to play."
Richie brought his head up and away just enough to headbutt Will, not hard enough to actually hurt but enough that the impact did sting them both.
"Ow." Will raised his head, clutching at his forehead, staring at Richie with utter befuddlement and squinting to glare at him again. "Why did you do that?"
"I'm not allowing you any self-pity, martyrdom or to blame yourself for shit when you're with me. You're not forcing me to play, I agreed because it's something you care about and I want to share the things that matter to you with you. Are we clear?"
"How do you manage to be an asshole even while being sweet?" Will replied with a slight scowl, still lightly rubbing at his forehead.
"It's an art," he answered, grabbing Will's hands to pry them away from his face. "Want me to kiss it better?"
Will turned his face away with a huff, pulling his hands from his grip to cross his arms tightly over his chest again, dropping his knees as he extended his legs along the floor.
"No kisses for you right now, you dick."
Richie crawled forward into the space between Will's legs, craning his neck to the side to stare into his face as Will continued looking away to avoid his gaze.
"Not even a little one?"
"You're the worst." Will's pursed lips wobbled as he tried to stop himself from smiling. Ah-ha. He had him. Richie grinned widely.
"And you like me, what does that say about you?"
"Well, according to you, I have shitty taste in men."
"I didn't mean me when I said that."
"But look at that. It still applies."
Richie laid both of his hands on the floor by the sides of Will's hips and pushed his face on top of his crossed arms, hooking his chin there until Will actually made eye contact with him.
"I'm sowwy." He pouted, batting his eyelashes.
Will couldn't help the little snicker that escaped him at that, though he immediately pressed his lips together like it had been involuntary. It was too late though, Richie had already won this one and he rose up on his knees to press a short kiss to Will's forehead.
"There you go," he announced. "Come on, help me make my character now."
Will stared at him suspiciously, but a spark of hope shone in his eyes, making them light up from the inside like lanterns.
"Really? You still want to?"
"Did you seriously not listen to what I said? If you care about it, I'll give it a chance. Also, it’s rules that I have a hard time with. Maybe making a character could be fun. Why don't you tell me more about yours?"
Will's arms dropped along with his defenses, a barely contained excitement running along his expression as it dropped into a pleased smile.
"I told you a little bit about him and about the rest of The Party’s characters when I showed you the drawings in the basement but his name is Will the Wise and he’s a cleric. That basically means I can cast spells but while I can use them to attack, my role is more focused on acting as the party healer. That's important because I can make sure the rest of the team stays alive through the encounters. That's why I have to be careful with my spell slots, they're limited by my level and if I waste them all on attacks I might not be a be able to heal a party member when it really matters," Will finished breathlessly, his words running into each other as he rambled about his character with clear excitement.
Wow, he really was a huge fucking nerd.
"And I mean," he kept talking. "Sometimes when Mike is upset about something he takes it out on the characters, so I'm worried he might go for a TPK just to piss you guys off. As in, you and Max. Though maybe he'll just target you both specifically during encounters. Anyway, we might really need that healing. I'm counting on El having some healing spells too, I think she's supposed to play a mage?"
"A TPK?" Richie asked, unfamiliar with the terminology.
"Yeah, a total party kill."
"He can just do that?!" Richie balked. He really wasn’t liking how much power over the game Mike seemed to have, especially if he was going to be gunning for him just to fuck with him like Will had suggested.
"Yes and no. A good DM wouldn't go out of their way to do something that might, like, impact the players enjoyment of the game negatively. It's a bad move. You should let the players steer the story, not force them strictly into a preset path," Will explained thoughtfully as he reclined back further against his bed. Richie moved along the floor to sit by him, shoulder to shoulder. "Mike is usually pretty good about that, but he really cares about the stories he writes, so if we make him deviate a lot he gets kinda pissy."
"You don't say…" That did change things. If he had enough freedom to change the course of whatever path Mike had set out for them…Well, then maybe Richie could have some fun with this after all. "Well, William, you tell me. What kind of character do you think I could play? Maybe a valiant knight?" He mimed slicing through the air with a sword, accompanied by a swooping sound he made with his mouth. "You know, since I'm so gallant and badass and all."
Will shrugged, his smile turning sly.
"I don't know about that. You should know Mike plays a paladin. Even when he's DMing he'll usually include his character as an NPC that's more like a DMPC, really"
Again, such a nerd.
"I need you to know the only reason I'm stringing together half of the shit you're saying right now is that it’s kinda similar to some terms I’ve seen used for a few video games. Also, Ew. I'm not playing the same thing as Wheeler."
“It’s not like Mike would let you either,” he chuckled. "We're missing our bard since Dustin isn't here. You could do that."
Richie raised his eyebrows at Will, shooting him a disbelieving look.
"A bard? What, like one of those guys that runs around playing the lute and shit? That's an option? What's the point of that? Hit people with a fucking instrument? Sing them to sleep?"
Will knocked their shoulders together, before bringing his knees up again and resting his elbow there so he could prop his head up with his hand.
"No, there's more to it than that, and there are plenty of different ways to play a bard. There doesn't even have to be singing or an instrument necessarily. But bards usually have charm as one of their strongest stats. It's kind of a joke that bards seduce the enemies to get out of fighting them, but like, in general they use their charm to influence other characters. They have their own set of spells they can cast tied to it, they're good support for the party."
"Ah. So you think I'm charming and seductive. I see you, Byers."
"Shut up," Will said, with no real heat behind his words. "Bards can cast vicious mockery, I figured that's something you would get a kick out of."
Richie perked up at that, interest peaked by the name of the spell.
"What does that do?"
"It lets you insult someone to death."
Holy fucking shit, that was awesome. That was one thing he was pretty sure he could kill at. He was already swirling Will’s words in his mind, ideas forming for all the ways he could make the game far more entertaining than whatever Mike had cooked up.
"Okay, you've convinced me. Let’s make this character, and make sure you explain to me exactly what I can do with it."
"Oh," Will exclaimed, like he'd suddenly realized something. "Mike's going to hate this."
"I hate this," Mike announced to Richie's utter delight, dragging his hands over his face from where he sat behind his DM screen.
"Now Michael, I'm not asking for anything outside the rules, am I?"
He had been right in thinking it would be easier to figure out how the game worked as he sat down and played for real but Will had also been a great help. He had offered to clarify any doubts he had in the moment and to remind him of any moves he could make if he couldn’t remember at some point, saying they could sit together at the table. As if Richie wouldn’t have made sure to sit beside him anyway. It had worked pretty well though, and had the benefit of having Will often leaning into him to give him advice.
"You're not seducing the fucking hydra." Mike had been steadily losing more and more of his patience as the game went along, not that he usually had much of it reserved for Richie regardless, but they were really coming up to his limit now, he was pretty sure.
Will had already concealed his face behind one hand. He was probably trying to look irritated or embarrassed – and while, to some extent he probably was – Richie noticed the tell-tale shaking of his shoulders as he held in his laughter.
Lucas simply let his head hang forward, resting it between his hands while El looked on with mild confusion.
Max though, cackled openly. It was so nice to have an ally in his ventures to terrorize Michael Wheeler.
"You know, Mike, I think it's a good idea actually. You should let him try," she said.
"He already tried seducing the guards from earlier." Mike's eye was practically twitching as he spoke between gritted teeth.
"Succesfully, might I remind you. Also, it was your idea to make the guards orc babes, I stand by my actions."
"Not once did I describe them as babes-"
"I think with this we’ve established that I'm sexy and desirable," he spoke over Mike. "Why wouldn't the hydra want a piece of this too?" He gestured vaguely at himself, reclining back in his chair.
"Oh, it wants a piece alright." Mike scoffed. "Of your intestines, when it fucking devours you if try to flirt with it even once."
Honestly, Mike was far too easy to provoke. How was Richie supposed to try to get along with him when this was much funnier? To him the pained groans and gritted teeth were as satisfying a reaction as genuine laughter.
"Hypothetically, how high would the roll have to be for it to work?" Will asked, sliding his hand away from his face enough to leave his eyes visible as he turned to Mike. He kept it loosely held above the lower part of his face, however, still concealing the smile Richie could tell was there through the visible crinkle at the corners of his eyes.
Mike gaped at Will, the disdain he had been staring at Richie with melting into disbelief as his eyes became trained on him instead.
"Will. We're not entertaining this idea. I'm not entertaining this idea."
"Dude, just give him a number, we were so close to finishing it off anyway." Lucas sighed, raising his head.
"There's no number. There's no possible number. He could roll a nat twenty and even add every modifier under the sun and I still would not let him succeed," Mike seethed.
"I don't understand." El frowned at him. "You said in the game you can do what you want if you get a big number."
"Within reason," Mike clarified with an edge of desperation in his voice. "Like, you can't break the rules. And I'm making this a rule right now. No seducing monsters."
"That's not a rule," Richie said, before leaning towards Will. "Is it?"
"Well, it's not specified in the manual."
"So, he can do it?" asked El.
"NO!" Mike brought his hands down on top of the table, making the mini figures and scattered maps and character sheets rattle. "I'm not letting him. Do something else."
"Mike, come on," Max insisted with an eye roll.
"Something. Else. Anything."
Richie tamed the smirk that kept trying to show on his face as he looked back over his character sheet. It had been worth a try, but he figured Mike would start putting a stop to it if he tried it too many times. No worries though, he had other options.
He had been trying to strike a balance during the campaign. He wanted to fuck with Mike, but he didn't want to ruin it completely for Will, when he knew he cared to much about this. Like, if it was fully up to Richie, they might not have even made it to the Hydra at all. He had very deliberately ignored the obvious signs for the places and things Mike wanted then to interact with, which was pretty funny to him, watching Mike scowl as he pretended he didn't notice the door he took over a minute to describe was plot relevant.
He thought he had managed that balance pretty well, Will looked entertained by the shenanigans rather than upset. He was ready to recalibrate if it started to look like he wasn't having fun.
He made eye contact with Will now, a question in his eyes.
Richie pointed at his character sheet, resting his finger against it.
Will looked at the page and nodded.
Perfect.
"I cast vicious mockery, let's go."
While Mike didn't exactly look happy, he did seem relieved that he was doing something relatively normal.
"Okay. Sure."
"What did I have to roll for that?" Richie asked Will, who scooted his chair even closer his.
"Mike has to roll a wisdom saving throw, if he fails you can roll for the damage."
"Yeah, yeah," Mike said. "What do you say to it?"
Richie felt a grin spread over his face as he thought. He could almost visibly see the words in his mind slotting together like a puzzle. In the off chance this worked he had to make this a good one.
"Okay. I yell at it to catch its attention, yeah?" Everyone nodded at him after, so he continued talking. "Hey! You, ugly bitch! For a creature with so many heads you sure seem to be lacking brains. I mean, we've been told you're a danger to the townspeople or something, but I find that pretty hard to believe if this is all you can do. I guess maybe it counts if people flee from your stinky ass and crops wither when you pass by. How does it feel that I didn't even try to seduce you? With how hideous you are, I wouldn't even sleep with your mother."
"Right. Great." Mike pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, ignoring the snorts from the rest of the table as he went to grab his D20. He probably wanted to be done and get rid of Richie as quick as he could.
Everyone watched with rapt attention as the die rolled over the table, before stopping near it's center, clearly visible to all of them.
A one.
"There's no fucking way," Mike complained, incredulous.
Lucas and Will laughed as Richie looked on triumphantly.
"See, devastated that I didn't even try to seduce it. It fucking killed it. Did it kill it?"
"You have to roll for damage," Will reminded him, biting down his smile as his lips wavered with the urge to laugh.
Will passed him the correct dice and he let them roll over the table. Again, everyone leaned in towards it collectively, laser focused on the rolling dice.
When they stopped, Mike groaned.
"So, did it? Did that kill it, Michael?" Richie asked with a smug grin, already knowing the answer, watching as Mike desperately looked over his notes like he could magically find some mistake in all that had happened.
"Yes," he finally said, reluctantly. "You killed the hydra."
Cheers rose up from the table.
Richie sat cross-legged on the ground, the afternoon sun filtering in through the gaps of the wood branches that made up the structure of Castle Byers.
It was maybe not the healthiest of light to read by for his eyes, but there was still enough of it that he could see fine and it seemed unnecessary to turn on a flashlight considering that. And, he had to add, a flashlight would be the only option they had for light, since they hadn't bothered to replace the light bulb from the lamp in here yet.
Or rather, they had tried, once.
It had burst within five minutes when Richie had jokingly tried to nip at the back of Will's neck like he had promised him he'd do.
Richie was starting to think the timing for these things happening was extremely suspicious, too much so to be coincidental, but Will had only shrugged uncomfortably at the time, appearing not to want to think too hard about it and said it was probably the wiring or the lamp itself that was the problem, making it useless to try to change it again.
Richie did attempt to ask if he was sure but Will's gaze only got distant as he said that if there was something actually wrong he'd know.
He didn't pry further, he trusted him.
Anyway, Richie wasn't reading just any regular comic. No, he had some that Will himself had drawn spread in front of him and he studied them with the intense attention of a scholar.
They weren't masterful or mind blowing as a whole. It was clearly the work of a teenager trying his hand at something he had a passion for. But it was damn good for being that.
The art, of course, was incredible. Richie knew very few people their age with this kind of talent for art, except maybe for Bill, though he rarely shared any of what he drew and Richie had never found himself caring about it like he did about this. The plot and writing was a bit weaker, clearly not Will's main strength, but if he ever did illustrations for a comic, Richie would buy every single issue, no matter how much money he'd have to spend.
Richie raised his eyes towards Will then, intending on telling him all this – Well, mostly the good parts and how sick his drawing skills were – but was stopped short when their gazes met, his eyes already trained on him from his spot on the cot, his sketchbook open on his lap and his pencil held delicately in his hand.
He looked down quickly, back towards the page, his pencil shaking slightly as he brought it down to paper and pretended like nothing had happened even while his eyes still struggled obviously not to shift, deviating towards Richie once, twice and once more.
Okay, Richie definitely had to see what this was about.
He set the comic pages aside and shifted towards him along the ground, scooting forwards without getting up from the floor and then trying to peer over Will's shoulder at his sketchbook, causing him to press it against his own chest in an attempt to hide it.
"Oh, come on. Let me see what you're working on," he pleaded and Will bit his lip delicately in response, eyes dropping towards his sketchbook. Boy, he really should stop doing that, it made Richie want to kiss him hard enough to derail them from anything else going on. Mostly because it was a reminder that Will had lips that he could be kissing at any given moment. He did have some self-control though, thank you very much.
Will brought the sketchbook away from his chest shyly, not making eye contact with Richie as he revealed what was on the page.
It was Richie. He had been drawing Richie.
There was a delicateness and care in the lines he didn't know how to describe. Just something about it all that spoke of the feelings the one behind the pencil had for the subject. It made his mouth go dry and his heart thump in his chest.
It was so stupid. He was making a big deal out of nothing. Will was an artist. He knew this. Will liked to draw. He knew this. There wasn't necessarily anything special about this when he had seen all the drawings he had made for and of his friends. But it did feel different and it did feel special.
"That's me," he said, because his brain was not capable of stringing anything smarter than that together at the moment.
"Yeah," Will replied coyly, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the page as he still avoided meeting his eyes.
"It's really fucking good Will." That was the best he could do right now with his brain still whirring and dialing up.
Will finally looked up to let their eyes meet, a small bashful smile blooming on his face.
"Thank you. I've been...trying to get it right for a while."
"What do you mean?"
At this, Will hesitantly went to turn the pages of his sketchbook, taking a big shuddery breath that exposed how nervous he felt.
As he did, Richie saw the previous pages, filled with scattered sketches of him. Some from up close, some from farther away. A profile here, turned three quarters to the side there. He had a hard time conceptualizing what he was looking at.
"After you leave, I don't know how long it will be before I can see you again. That means if I don't learn exactly how to draw you now, I won't be able to get it right while you're gone." These words were quiet, almost mumbled under his breath. It was really the first time in quite a while they had properly acknowledged their limited time together out loud. It broke his heart too much to think about it so he didn't dare put it into words, and that was exactly how he was feeling right now. The reminder dug into him like an arrow lodged in his ribcage.
"Figured you would have an easy time with it, you've probably drawn Wheeler a bunch of times over the years." Even this comment was not enough to distract from the grief of their incoming separation, but he still had to try to steer the conversation away before he started feeling too much to conceal. It didn't help that he was bringing up Michael in this context, knowing that any time Will had drawn him in the past he must have done so with similar care.
"Well, yeah," Will said, a light crease between his eyebrows. "That's why it's so hard. If I want it to really look like you and not him I have to get all of the little details right. All your differences."
"Have you found a lot of those?" he asked with his heart in his throat, the sounds of the forest around them growing muted.
"I find more every time I draw you." He smiled when he said this, genuine and satisfied. He said it like it was a good thing, a wonderful thing, like he loved all of the small things that made him him, that set him apart from Mike.
Richie sealed their mouths together.
The force with which he collided against him unintentionally pushed Will down against the pillows. Richie felt like his chest had turned into a full goddamned beehive, a buzzing feeling reverberating through him as he followed him down, throwing a leg over him and settling his knees to the sides of Will's hips while the other boy dropped the sketchbook and pencil in surprise.
He didn't know what to do with this feeling that shook between his ribs or even what it was but he knew it would only calm down if he was holding Will as close as he could.
He pulled back after a moment, his hands flying to cradle Will's head as he leaned back to sit over Will's thighs, resting his weight there.
He swiped his thumbs over Will's cheeks, watching mesmerized as the reddened skin went pale under the pressure of his touch. Will's dazed eyes intently focused on him as he did.
This was allowed. He could hardly believe it but he was allowed to do this. Will liked him well enough that he wanted Richie to kiss and hold him as badly as Richie did. He had permission.
He still couldn't get over the fucking moles. It was becoming something of an obsession.
He bent down and pressed a lingering kiss, not to Will's lips, but the mole right above them. When he pulled back, he scanned his face for each little dot, but it was hardly necessary. He had already memorized the location of each one. So, he kept going, scattering quick light kisses over his face, where each of those moles that had slowly been driving him crazy could be found.
This was, in a way, the closest he'd come to being an artist himself, playing connect the dots with Will's face and his own mouth.
"What are you doing?" Will laughed, quiet and breathless under Richie's unrelenting barrage of kisses.
"I may have a thing for your moles," he admitted. Honestly, after all that, what point was there in trying to pretend otherwise?
Something glinted in Will's eyes then and, before he knew it, they had been flipped, with Will over him and Richie's back against the pillows over the cot. He genuinely had no idea how he had even done it, he must have been more distracted than he realized.
Regardless, as soon as their positions were reversed, it was Will that bent down to pepper kisses over his face, sliding Richie's glasses up to his hair when they got in the way.
Oh.
Richie was going to melt. He was going to turn into a puddle and slide from under Will, filtering into the ground below. Tough luck Richie, time for you to become water for the plants and trees to feed on.
He blinked slowly when Will stopped, staring up at him in awe and watching the way his expression warred between embarrassment and determination.
"W-well, in that case, you should know I kind of have a thing for your freckles."
There was no way this was real. Richie had died after all, probably in the sewers even, it had been pretty good luck that they had all managed to make it out alive, he should have been more suspicious.
There just was no other explanation, because he was in heaven. He was in heaven and there was an angel sitting over him and kissing his face.
Holy shit. Will was going to straight up fucking kill him one of these days.
You were not supposed to stare directly at angels, Richie vaguely recalled. You were at risk of blinding yourself, getting your retinas burned off.
But there was no way in hell he could look away from Will right now. Or ever.
In the time they spent together, they learned a hundred different ways to kiss each other.
Some were quick and secretive, brief stolen things behind the backs of the Party when they managed to sneak just far enough away from them.
Others carried weight and desperation to them, those shared in private when there was no risk of interruption or discovery. These were kisses that spoke of their fear without having to use words. The fear of what would happen once Richie had to go back home, what would become of them when they didn't have each other anymore.
Richie couldn't kill that fear, no matter how hard he may try. But he felt certain that no matter what happened and whatever the world tried to throw at them, they'd always find each other.
It was something he couldn't find the words to say to Will, so all he could do was pour the intent behind them into his kisses and hope Will could understand anyway.
Richie leaned his weight against the side of the arcade cabinet as he watched Max play. Her fingers flew over the buttons with the clear expertise of someone who spent hours upon hours at it. He knew that better than anyone, it was the same way his own hands moved when he played.
"Any reason you asked me to come with you today instead of bringing your boyfriend?" Richie asked her.
He had easily agreed to come along when she showed up at the door to Wheeler’s house to ask.
It was only partially because he had nothing better to do. When he'd called Will, it had been his brother who answered, telling him El had shown up to take him away saying something about important secret sibling stuff. Jonathan sounded incredibly confused about that, asking Richie if he knew what that meant, but he just told him he didn't. Whatever that meant, he hoped that if it had something to do with the flickering lights and all of that, that it wouldn't be bad news. He hoped Will would tell him if it was.
Aside from all that, though, Max was probably his favorite among his cousin's friends – Will notwithstanding – so he didn't mind getting to spend some time with her too.
"Not my boyfriend right now."
"Ah."
In the time Richie had been in Hawkins, Max and Lucas had broken up a couple of times.
The first time it happened, he had been incredibly confused. They were one of those couples you could just tell was going to last when you saw them together, what they had was real, even if they often showed their affection through arguing and teasing. Well, mostly Max. That was a language Richie spoke well too, he couldn't help himself from doing much of the same whenever he liked somebody, and the back and forth he was able to have with Will, him meeting his jokes with well pointed jabs, was one of the reasons he liked him so much.
But yeah, it had been weird, like it had come out of nowhere.
However, Richie soon learned that that was just a thing when it came to the two of them. They broke up, they got back together – usually relatively quickly – with the breakups happening for frankly ridiculous and petty reasons, always instigated by Max.
Honestly. Straight people.
"What did he do now?"
"None of your business."
Whenever they broke up and before things got fixed she usually got angry about it for a time, even when it had been her idea in the first place and even as she pretended she wasn't affected.
"Red, I really hope this isn't you trying to ask me out instead. I'm sorry, I know I'm irresistible but you just aren't my type."
Max scoffed, sparing a quick glance his way to show her disdain and disgust at the idea before turning back to the game, intent on beating her own high score.
"Don't worry. You're not my type either."
"So?" Richie goaded, making Max huff in annoyance, not eager to be distracted and keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the screen. “Why am I here then?”
"You like this place too. You see it the same way as me."
Yeah, Richie supposed he did. He wasn't entirely sure what it was that Max was running from as she hid here, as she escaped from the world temporarily through the bright lights and beeping sounds of the arcade. But, he was able to recognize that was what she did in here, because, again, he did much of the same.
It was why he had an easy time getting along with her, even as she kept a constant wall around her, deflecting most initial attempts at sincere connection with her.
It was these similarities between them that had made him ultimately realize why she kept breaking up with Lucas. She was scared.
She was scared because this thing with Lucas was too good and she didn't trust it, so she kept pushing him away, half hoping he'd stay that way while half hoping he'd prove her wrong. Again and again.
Even as he understood where the impulse came from, it was a point where they actually differed. He recognized the fear, but he was not so willing to push away what he wanted. He was no longer willing to self-sabotage that way. Will was the type of person you fought for, he could not put him in a position where he made him doubt. Richie had already done enough damage by suggesting maybe he wanted Mike more than he wanted Richie. He was not repeating that mistake. Probably. He was trying.
"So, what's your deal then?" He couldn't help but ask. "Mommy issues? Daddy issues? Heard your brother's an asshole, is that it?"
She pushed the joystick forward with a little more force than necessary, betraying a simmering anger beneath the surface.
"Shut up. I'm not talking about that with you."
"Touchy, touchy," Richie said, raising his hands in surrender. "We all have our issues, you know? No shame in that."
"Oh, yeah? And what are yours?" Max asked without missing a beat.
Richie's issues? Richie's issue was that he was afraid all of the goddamn time. He was afraid of himself, of his friends, of strangers, of being seen, of not being seen, of being ignored and forgotten, of being exposed. The fear always thrummed somewhere inside him and stuck to him like a leech, sucking the joy out of most things. So he tried harder. He tried harder to joke, to laugh, to fill the hole left behind, but sometimes he wasn't quick enough and so he feared too that one day he'd end up fully empty.
"Me?" Richie said. "I'm the exception, obviously. No issues here. That's why I gotta help out unfortunate souls like you."
"Right," she replied, clearly unconvinced, jabbing at the buttons of the machine. "You know, I didn't invite you here so you could try to do therapy on me or whatever this is. I thought your whole shtick was pretending everything is a joke so you don't have to admit you actually care."
Shit. Right on the money.
"Damn, woman. Why did you bother asking about my issues if you were going to lay them out like that anyway?"
"You started it."
"Touché."
They sat in silence for a moment, both staring at the screen as Max dominated the game easily.
"But like, if I can give a piece of advice," Richie added, prompting Max to groan in response. Despite that, she didn't shut him down immediately.
"What?" She asked instead, irritated.
"Maybe stop pushing the people you love away? How are they supposed to be there for you when you need them if you don't let them?"
Max kept quiet for a second, her fingers faltering momentarily on the buttons.
"I didn't expect you to be this, like...earnest, I think." She mumbled.
"Yeah, I don't know. Will's influence probably."
He had been someone he had felt comfortable being open with faster than he ever had before in his life. Spending so much time like that, with his walls down, reaching for true connection with someone else, devoid of all the bullshit and the facades, just made it harder to push them all back up the rest of the time. It was harder and harder to pretend he didn't care and to stand there letting things just happen without saying something.
"You do spend most of your time together."
Richie's shoulders tensed and his smile turned a little too sharp, a little too practiced, too taken off guard in the moment.
"Sure, yeah. He's easy to get along with."
"I know that," Max agreed easily, making some of the tension seep out of Richie. "I wasn't implying anything," she added. Clearly he hadn't been as slick hiding his instinctual reaction as he hoped and, despite her words, the mere acknowledgement allowed some of the fear back in. "Which would be fine, by the way."
Before he had time to do more than blink and open his mouth at the comment, split between relieved gratitude and surly defensiveness, Max kept talking.
"I didn't get it at first. How it was possible that you got along so easily, so fast. You're both so different from each other."
They were but they also weren't, that was the secret. But it was not something he could explain to her, at least not right now.
"But maybe that's why. When I met Will it was already after he'd been through a bunch of shit, so I can't speak for everyone else but I've personally never seen him as happy as he's been since he started spending time with you. I guess you balance each other out." She shrugged.
"We do," he said quietly.
When Max's eyes strayed once more from the screen to lock back on Richie, they were far too keen, too searching, and it was Richie that drew his own gaze away first. Max was definitely more perceptive than he had thought, though he didn't know why he hadn't considered she would be in the first place.
It was as he looked away that he heard the game over sound come from the machine, making him turn his head back towards it as Max groaned in frustration.
Soon though, a satisfied smile crept over her face while she put her name in as the new high score record holder, beating her own previous one.
"What do you say, Tozier?" she asked as she stepped away to make space for him in front of the arcade cabinet. "Think you can beat that?"
Richie cracked his knuckles.
"Oh, you're on."
Richie pulled on Will's hands, forcing him to stand up from his spot on the floor as music from the beat up old radio drifted faintly through the air around them.
Richie smiled as he eyed him.
Will was wearing one of Richie's hawaiian shirts over one of his own. Richie had offered it to him when the sun started to set, shrugging it off himself when seeing Will had become unsettled by the sudden chill that had settled over the afternoon, so unlike the days before.
They both knew it did little to help, but Will had agreed eagerly and Richie felt a deep sense of contentment and pride spread through him at seeing Will wearing something of his. So they had both ignored the fact in favor of that.
It was a bit of a ridiculous sight. The pattern of Richie's shirt clashing with the stripes on Will's, but he couldn't help but think it was the most attractive thing he had ever seen, as tendrils of possessiveness coiled through him.
"Come on, Willy," he said as Will stumbled into a standing position. "This is what happens when you always listen to sad boy music, you forget how to dance."
"What?" Will asked. "I don't listen to sad boy music."
Richie raised his eyebrows at him.
"Don't you?"
"Well," Will hesitated. "Not exclusively." He frowned. "Not even mostly. I think."
"Forget about that right now," Richie said, turning up the sound dial of the radio significantly, the easily recognizable sound of Just Can't Get Enough thrumming through the room.
"Richie," Will hissed at the new volume, that almost made the floor vibrate.
"Nobody's going to be home for a while yet, right?"
It was late in the afternoon, not that long until Richie had to make his way back to the Wheeler house, and until Will's mother and brother came home from their respective jobs.
But they still had some time, and Richie was not going to waste it.
He pulled again on Will's hands, bringing them closer and then farther away from him in an alternating pattern to the beat of the music.
They were both terribly uncoordinated and awkward but he tapped his feet to the rhythm and watched as Will started doing the same while they swayed together, getting more animated as the song went on and a smile spread along his face.
"We slip and slide as we fall in love," Richie sang at Will as he brought him closer, settling a hand on his back, the other still holding his hand. "And I just can't seem to get enough, ah."
Richie spun Will in place as the other boy laughed, before bringing him back in.
Will tried pulling back to spin Richie too as they continued stumbling along to the music, both getting lost in it.
Richie felt a bubbling happiness at his core, effervescent like fizzy carbonated drinks felt on his tongue, as they moved together around the room.
"I just can't get enough, I just can't get enough," they sang along, screaming into each other's faces as they danced around.
When the song faded off, they were left standing there for a moment in the space between songs, looking into each other's eyes with their hands intertwined and admiring the happiness shining from them. Richie was going to lean in for a kiss when a voice brought them out of the moment.
"You should probably turn the volume down now," Jonathan said from the doorway to Will's room, which, since they had been home alone, they had left stupidly open. "Mom is coming home soon."
Richie tried to control his inmediate reaction, the paralyzing fear and dread that rose within him like a wave when he thought of being discovered. His heart was still racing and he knew it would take some time for it to go back to normal but he tried reasoning with himself.
Jonathan already knew. He had not tried to talk to them about it, but they knew he knew. Will had confirmed this to him, saying they'd had a vague and uncomfortable conversation and that he was someone safe and would keep quiet. The fear was so ingrained in him though, that it still took a moment to accept, and he was still not really comfortable with being seen even if he did know.
When you were like them you had to learn to identify quickly people who would be safe. Like the girl from the ice cream shop. But you couldn't afford to get it wrong.
"How long were you standing there?" Will asked with a frown, also shifting uncomfortably.
"Not that long," Jonathan answered calmly, probably trying to reasure Will, before he hesitated. "I did take a picture of you dancing. Figured maybe you'd like to keep a memory like that, since you don't have any pictures together."
"Jonathan," Will hissed at his brother in embarrassment.
Jonathan blinked.
"Do you...want me to get rid of it?"
"NO!" Richie yelled embarrassingly loud, making the other two turn to look at him. "I-I want the picture."
He wouldn't lie, a part of him shuddered at the idea of the picture existing. Something anyone could see that would show just how evident Richie's feelings were. He should be asking for it to be destoryed.
But he couldn't. Like Jonathan had said, they had no pictures of them together, and he wanted something, anything he could take with him back home that would make this time in his life feel real, and not like a distant dream.
"Okay, good," Jonathan replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I'll get a copy for each of you, yeah? Just those two."
They both nodded carefully.
To his utter mortification, to get back that afternoon he had to get a ride from Jonathan in his car.
He spent most of the drive bouncing his leg and looking out of the window. Being left alone with the one person who knew you were into guys because the guy you were into was his brother was not exactly the most comfortable situation to get stuck in, believe it or not.
"Sorry about the picture thing." Jonathan broke the silence as they approached the house. "I probably should have asked first. I just- When I see a moment that should be captured, I forget to think it through sometimes."
Richie hummed noncommitally. He really wasn't upset about that. Just maybe slightly freaked out. For obvious reasons.
This guy was pretty well meaning, at least, even if he was awkward as hell.
When they pulled up in front of the house, Richie sighed with relief internally, he had to get out of this fucking car.
"I'm in your corner, by the way," Jonathan added as he brought the car to a stop. "Make sure you keep taking care of each other."
Richie stopped with his hand on the door handle, frozen by the easy acceptance. The fear was still there, as it always was, but this cut through it in a way that made Richie's throat ache, like it was trying to keep down a desperate sob.
"Thanks," he mumbled softly. "I'll always try."
One benefit of being in a secret gay relationship that nobody ever talked about?
Not that most people around them talked about secret gay relationships, or even gay relationships in general, but still.
Sleepovers.
As long as no one questioned that you were just two regular friends wanting to spend some extra time together, you could get away with it. Which was something that, in most cases, a guy and a girl in the same position would never be able to do, even if they insisted they were just friends.
It meant that during the time Richie was in Hawkins, he got to sleep over at Will's a few times. Since that first time he stayed at his place, they had completely forgone sleeping bags or cots, even if they still set them up like they were going to use them. Instead, when they were alone, he climbed up to Will's bed and shared it with him, curling protectively around him and holding him through the night.
Neither of them had nightmares when they slept like that.
The last night before his flight back home, he stayed there as well, both too aware that they needed time to properly say goodbye in private if they didn't want to collapse in front of everyone the following morning.
They had to insist quite strongly for this one, aunt Karen had wanted him ready to leave since the morning, but he didn't need to leave for the airport until closer to noon, so they had some leeway.
It had always been the plan to invite the whole Party to say goodbye anyway, so as long as he left everything in the basement organized and his stuff packed away and prepared to leave, he had been allowed. He thought maybe those instances where he offered to help around the house had paid off after all.
He couldn't imagine spending this night alone in the basement when this was the last time in who knew how long he'd get to hold Will like this.
They were wrapped around each other on Will's bed, limbs intertwined tightly enough that someone walking in would have a hard time figuring out where one boy started and the other ended.
Will had his face hidden in the space between Richie's neck and shoulder and Richie squeezed him against himself, feeling like an extremely clingy octopus.
"I'm going to miss you," Will whispered against his skin, only making Richie's arms tighten their hold on him. The trembling in his voice was evident, a sound Richie knew meant he was holding back tears.
Richie wasn't doing much better. He could feel tears sting at his eyes too, that he tried to blink back furiously. He was not going to cry. He wasn't.
He buried his face in Will's hair instead, breathing in the scent of his body wash and shampoo, the swirling scents of citrus and vanilla dancing on his nose.
"Me too," he said in a voice he pretended didn't sound fragile and on the verge of breaking.
How had this happened?
When he first met Will, he had thought he was cute. It was impossible not to, because he was. But he couldn't have imagined it would turn into this. He had seemed like a good distraction, a cute guy to spend the summer bothering.
He was so much more than that now.
Will was the sunshine on his skin in the morning and the comforting light of the moon at night. He was a warm embrace around him after a nightmare, reminding of what was real and what wasn't. He was clear laughs, coy smiles and wide green eyes that looked at him like he was the most important person in the world. He was...damn it. He was everything.
The thought hit him like an anvil to the head. Blunt, obvious, huge.
Oh fuck.
I love him.
What was he supposed to do with that?