Title: Only Fools Rush In

Summary: Every single one of their friends knew before they did. Which, admittedly, wasn't at all shocking.

Warnings: Richie Tozier's fantastically vulgar mouth, but that's about it.

Disclaimer: Do not own this franchise, am not Stephen King.

Every single one of their friends knew before they did.

Which really wasn't shocking considering the circumstances.

Richie and Eddie had been they way they were for as long as they had known each other. Sarcastic and foul-mouthed remarks tossed back and forth, almost as terms of endearment. Slaps and shoves that somehow ended up in a full on tussle to get the upper hand. Richie would have Eddie in a headlock and Eddie would be digging an elbow into Richie's side, just trying to hit that spot that Eddie knew would get Richie to give in and submit.

It was always a power play with them; and maybe they couldn't see if for what it really was but, after a while, everyone else certainly could.

As the rest of their group slowly began to realize, it almost became a game of sorts-how long until Richie and Eddie realize? And after they all caught on, it became a running bet. No harm intended.

Richie and Eddie were obviously enjoying themselves.

Beverly was the first to know. Obviously.

They had been 14 at the time, almost 8 months since they defeated Pennywise the fuckass clown that had tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to pick them off one by one. Things had settled down to a relative norm for all of them. The nightmares were farther and few between, shadows were much less ominous, laughter came easier. It was better.

That's not to say they didn't still have their moments where the intense fear outweighed the knowledge that Pennywise was actually gone. And, naturally, Richie took every opportunity imaginable to scare the ever-loving fuck out of Eddie Kaspbrak. Cruel or not, it was like he couldn't help himself.

And let's be honest, it's not like Eddie could ever really stay angry at Richie.

The plan had been to meet at Bill's house for pizza and movies. A typical Friday night.

As Beverly approached Bill's house, she caught a mess of black hair out of the corner of her eyes. Richie was carefully inserting himself into one of the bushes that lined the sidewalk to Bill's front door. Now, this was interesting. Bev paused where she stood, trying to scoop out the surrounding area.

As Richie tucked himself completely into the bush, he caught Beverly's eyes. He grinned wickedly, brought a single finger to his lips, and then pointed a ways down the street where Eddie could be seen walking toward them.

Eddie, of course, could not see Richie. In fact, neither could Beverly any longer. But as Eddie approached, he smiled, waved, and picked up his pace to join her. Her brows furrowed, unsure of how to proceed, and knowing exactly what was about to happen.
"Hey, Bev," he spoke fondly. They had all gotten so much closer in the last several months, bonding over their mutual near death experiences which was strengthened impossibly by the blood pact they shared.

Bev simply smiled and waved, a mixture of amusement, caution, and admittedly, a little concern building in the pit of her stomach. Those were typical emotions to experience when Eddie and Richie were around. As they continued toward the house together, Bev tried to keep her distance from Eddie, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire of what was about to unfold.

At the exact moment they walked by the bush, Richie exploded from within, screeching an ungodly noise followed by, "boo, motherfucker!"

Eddie, of course, screamed bloody murder.

And for the first time thus far of all of Richie's scares, punched him in the nose.

"Oof!" Richie hands flew up to cover his nose immediately.

As Eddie realized who it was he just (admittedly, instinctively) punched in the face, his hands also shot up to cover his mouth. He appeared an odd mixture of concerned and pissed off at the same time. Bev could only watch from here.

"Asshole!" Eddie cried. "You scared the holy fuck out of me!"

Richie's eyes were wild. "I think you broke my nose!"

"Why were you in a bush!"

"You punched me, I can't believe you punched me!"

"Oh, suck it up, you big baby, you're fine!"

"I'm fine!? Come over here, I'll show you how fucking fine I am!"

Richie moaned, and as Eddie's adrenaline filtered out of his system, he started to laugh. He approached Richie, who was still holding his nose as though he was the only thing keeping it in place. "C'mere," Eddie started, his hands reaching out to Richie's face. "Let me see."

Watching skeptically, Richie allowed Eddie to pull his hands from his face and inspect his bleeding nose. He winced only slightly as Eddie carefully ran his fingers along the bridge of Richie's nose.

And it was at that moment that Beverly saw it.

It was in the way Richie instinctively trusted Eddie despite the latter having been the one to inflict the damage initially. It was how Eddie ran his fingers so gently over the structure of Richie's nose, checking to see if it was broken, uncaring of the blood pooling from his nostrils and down his face.

Eddie was, as everyone knows, a severe hypochondriac. However, it didn't even register to him that his fingertips were currently coated in Richie's blood. There wasn't even a fraction of a moment where he hesitated or displayed any disgust. It didn't bother him in the slightest.

It was in the way that Richie, despite the pain throbbing in his face, leaned into Eddie's touch, drawn to it, unbeknownst to him.

It was in the soft, fond smile that settled on Eddie's face as he muttered, "fuckin' deserved it, though."

It was in the gleam in Richie's eyes as he grinned and replied, "still worth it."

It was there, and it was glaringly obvious all of a sudden, and Bev was stricken that this was the first time she really noticed. This was how they were always. What could only be described as affection coating their every move, even when they were hurting each other or tossing insults back and forth.

Unbelievable.

Beverly shook her head at them and bit back the surprise she felt at her sudden revelation. "You guys are too much," she said as she turned toward the house and left them alone on Bill's front walkway. As she closed the door behind her, her gaze stuck for a moment.

Eddie's hand lingered a bit longer on Richie's nose, and Richie simply smiled as though he'd just gotten everything he'd ever wanted out of life.

Idiots, she thought.

After Beverly, was Stan.

It was the 4th of July, and their plan was to meet up and go see the fireworks together as a group. Stan was the first to arrive at the little hill, just a few blocks from town, an ideal location to watch the fireworks without having to deal with the crowds of people.

It was dusk, the sun was slowly dipping below the horizon, casting an array of pink, purple, orange, and red over his surroundings. He sighed, things had become a lot more peaceful over the last three years. Pennywise was just a bad memory, now.
At that moment, a familiar car pulled to the shoulder of the road and screeched to a halt. The vehicle sounded as old as it looked, but it served its purpose.

Within that single moment, the peace and quiet that Stan thrived in came to an abrupt end. The passenger side door opened and slammed shut at Eddie stomped away from the vehicle. "You're such a fuckin' prick, Richie," he shouted without looking back. Richie pulled himself from the driver's side with a devilish grin held firmly in place.

"I don't even know why I'm friends with you!" Eddie continued.

Stan took a moment to observe his friends as they approached him. They had all changed so much in the last few years. Richie was a lot taller now, less lanky, more defined and muscular. His hair was an unkempt mess, but Stan supposed that probably would never change. As Richie walked from car, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and brought one up to his lips. Oh, yeah, he smoked now too, which Eddie gave him endless shit for.

Eddie had gotten quite a bit taller over the years, as well. Somehow, though, he still seemed to be the smallest one out of their group. Despite that, he had become probably the most boisterous and reckless one (after Richie, of course). Something had slowly changed in Eddie in the years after Pennywise; it had been subtle and gradual, but there nonetheless. Stan suspected it had very much to do with the fact that Eddie was, for all intents and purposes, attached at Richie's hip.

Stan was pulled from his thoughts as he watched Richie charge forward and tackle Eddie to the grass. Not even a moment of hesitation or shock, and Eddie turned himself to face his assailant. Admittedly, there was very little reaction because stuff like Richie tackling Eddie to the ground happened relatively frequently. Especially when Eddie was stomping away from him.

Eddie reached up, placed his palm on Richie's forehead and pushed as hard as he possibly could from the looks of it. Richie's head was shoved back and he was laughing.

"Fucking get off of me," Eddie grumbled, still pushing with every ounce of force he had. Richie, from the looks of it, pushed back just as hard.

Stan had no clue what they were fighting about now, but it was useless to even speculate on-they were always fighting.

As they shoved at each other and cursed back and forth, Stan happened to realize just how much the two seemed to fight with one another. And never because they were really angry. They just did it. It was so expected from the pair that no one even gave it a second thought at this point.

Richie and Eddie never fought to hurt each other.

Stan thought to himself for a moment.

They fought to simply be touching.

Oh.

Stan was more surprised at how long it took him to catch on than the actual revelation. Looking back, it was so obvious. The two of them were always looking for excuses to be touching. Eddie would knock the glasses off Richie's face, Richie would smack Eddie upside the head. Eddie would kick Richie in the leg when they were simply sitting on the couch next to each other doing nothing.

Richie would throw an arm around Eddie's shoulders when they were all chatting outside a diner somewhere.

It was inevitable.

They were always touching, no matter what the context.

It was almost like the two had a gravitational pull to each other.

Stan smiled and greeted them as they finally separated from one another and approached him.

It made sense.

Ben and Mike realized at the exact same time.

In all fairness, they led each other to their own realization.

It was right after they all received their diploma at graduation. Stanley was chatting with his parents, receiving the obligatory congratulations from his little sister who couldn't have looked less interested if she had tried.

Bill and Beverly were off to the side of them. Bill had been talking about how badly he had wished Georgie could have been here with the rest of his family, and Beverly had pulled him aside. Five years had done nothing to dull the ache that was left behind by his brother's absence. While other things got significantly better over the years, that never would.

And, of course, Richie and Eddie were off by the bleachers horsing around. Richie had snatched Eddie's graduation cap off and was holding it high over his head and out of reach. Despite graduation being long over, and no longer needing the cap, Eddie was trying to climb Richie like a fuckin' tree to get it. Really, the only reason that Richie took the cap was to bait Eddie in the first place. And, look at that, it was working magnificently. Mike sighed. Ben chuckled.

"They're something else, aren't they?" Ben questioned, watching. They were trying to give Bill and Beverly just a moment of privacy. Both of them had clearly seen the tears welling up in Bill's eyes as he had emphatically whispered to Bev.

"Huh?" Mike turned his attention away from their two friends fucking off in the corner of the football field and looked at Ben. "Those two morons over there?"

"Yeah," Ben started. He glanced from Richie and Eddie back over to Bill and Beverly for a minute. "You know, I really thought Bill and Bev were gonna get together at some point...I'm kind of surprised it hasn't already happened." He tried not to think about how much that thought stung.

"Yeah, who knows," Mike started, thoughtful. "They definitely have the chemistry for it."

Once again their gazes drifted over to Eddie and Richie, still shoving at each other, not even the faintest clue that other people outside of them existed.

"If you want to talk about chemistry...just look at them..." Ben started, trailing off, unsure of what he was insinuating.

Mike, shocked, turned to look at him as though he was just was just spoon-fed all of the answers to life's mysteries. "Buddy, you're not fucking wrong." Mike rarely cursed. But when he did, it was typically because he was either really angry or really fucking stunned.

The dawning realization of what Ben had actually just suggested settled over him.

Really?

Ben felt as though his jaw was about to unhinge and fall clean off his face. It all slammed into him with the force of something real and tangible. It made so much sense.

There was a magnetism between Richie and Eddie that was unmistakable and palpable. But he, they apparently, had never caught it for what it really was. Ben wondered if they were the only ones who knew, or if others had gotten wise to it, as well. Looking back, he doesn't know how anyone could miss it.

It was obvious in the way they existed together. How they talked. How they teased, and pushed, and instigated, and fed off each other. Wherever Richie was, Eddie wasn't far behind, and visa versa.

Sarcasm and mockery and malice coated in affection. Maybe that's why it was so hard to miss for so long.

He glanced to Mike to find that his feelings of awe were perfectly mirrored on the other boy's face.

"How could we have missed it for so long?" Mike questioned.

"I don't know," Ben stated absently. "Maybe because they've always been like that and we were just used to it. Desensitized."

Mike turned to looked at him. "It's right there though," he starts. "That's impossible to miss. Do you think the other's know?"

Ben turned to meet eyes with Mike. "Honestly, I'm not even sure if they know, Mike..."

Bill, surprisingly, was the last of his friends to catch on. Still, impressively, before Richie and Eddie, however.

It was three weeks after graduation, and he was still filled with the sadness of missing his brother and the anxiety of the unknown. What next? What now? Everything was changing-they would all be moving on, moving away from Derry, probably. Would these people that he's grown to love as his family still be around? He felt truly scared for the first time since that night they took down that fucking clown.

So, to drown out his thoughts, he did the one thing any 19 year old boy would reasonably do. He called Richie, had him pick up a case of beer and a bottle of something stronger. Somehow, Richie was always able to get his hands on the stuff.

As soon as he let Richie in the front door, they were storming up the staircase to his bedroom. An hour and a half later, they were both sitting on the floor beside Bill's bed, sufficiently intoxicated.

"Richie," Bill started, just the slightest slur to his voice. Surprisingly, his stutter didn't resurface with the alcohol. It had improve phenomenally over the years. "How do you always get your hands on this stuff? You fuckin' degenerate."

Richie giggled. "You remember that girl that Eddie had a huge ole crush on junior year? Well, her brother buys me alcohol whenever I want as long as I give him a ride to the gas station and give him cash for cigarettes."

Bill shook his head and either sighed or chuckled. To be fairly honest, he wasn't quite sure which. His thoughts from before were slowly seeping back into his alcohol addled brain. "Richie, what do you think you're going to do now? Now that we've graduated? Are you gonna leave?" Bill sounded just as tired as he felt, suddenly.

Richie shifted where he sat, turning slightly to face Bill and pondering for a second. Muddled thoughts of his future ran through his head, and Bill watched as he considered the question. "Y'know, Bill, I haven't thought too much about it...I don't know what I want to do, but I definitely don't want to stay here."

There was a tightness in Bill's stomach as he heard that answer, but it definitely didn't shock him. Bill wanted to leave Derry, too. Leave behind the memories of that summer when they were 13. Distance himself from the pain caused by his brother's absence. The pain that was intensified every time he passed that fucking sewer drain, or Georgie's old favorite place to get ice cream.

Bill definitely wanted to leave Derry.

But he absolutely did not want to leave his friends.

Richie spoke again, pulling Bill from his thoughts. "I guess I should ask Eddie what his plans are now that graduation is over," he mumbled thoughtfully. As though, Eddie's decisions determined Richie's.

Somehow, Richie was always able to tie everything to Eddie.

At that, Bill had to chuckle. Honestly, it made sense. He couldn't imagine Eddie going somewhere without Richie, or Richie going somewhere without Eddie. They just went hand-in-hand.

As the thought passed through his mind, Bill had the same revelation all his friends before him had.

Fuck.

Richie loved Eddie.

Eddie loved Richie.

Fuck.

It hit him like a ten ton bag of bricks, straight to the gut. It was right there in front of his face all this time and he had missed it, hard.

He coughed and sputtered for a moment, and when Richie asked him if he was okay, he blamed it on the alcohol and wondered if Richie knew how much he loved Eddie.

Eddie was laying back on his little twin sized bed, back pressed against the headboard, and his legs in Richie's lap. It seemed as though it was a rare moment of silence for the two, when in actuality, they did this rather frequently when they were alone together. Eddie studying some medical text book, Richie reading an old comic of Eddie's just to amuse himself. Just existing. Together. Most people didn't see this side of them.

It was about a week and a half after Richie's conversation with Bill and he had been thinking more and more lately about what the future held for him. He knew he would follow Eddie anywhere. He just didn't know where that was going to be.

Or what that meant, apparently.

He set the comic book down on top of Eddie's legs and without even thinking, grabbed the other boy's foot and absentmindedly started to rub it. "Eds, I was talking to Bill the other day, and what now?" he started. "Now that we've graduated...what's next?"

Eddie glanced at him from his book. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know...what are you doing? Are you staying here? Moving away? What now?" Richie sounded...somber for once, which wasn't typical.

"I mean," Eddie started, then stopped. Thinking. "I guess I haven't really thought about it that much. I guess I just assumed I'd get out of Derry and start there. Maybe college. Maybe not right away though." It almost sounded as though Eddie had been avoiding thinking about it entirely.

Quite honestly, Richie wasn't even exactly certain why he was asking in the first place. Somehow, he had never gotten past the point of simply knowing that he wanted to leave Derry eventually. He had no idea where or when or what. He felt vaguely lost and out of place forcing himself to think about it. There was a puzzle piece missing somewhere, and it felt like a big one.

Eddie watched him carefully. "Why, what are you thinking? What do you want?"

Richie considered that question long and really hard. Somehow, that was one of the hardest questions anyone had ever asked him, and it really shouldn't have been. He should have been thinking about this, planning a future. Instead, he had been so focused on the present, he had forgotten the future even existed. So, what did he want?

Tired of racking his brain for a cohesive thought, he said the very first thing that came to his mind. "I wanna go where ever you go."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, as soon as he heard them, it hit him with the speed of something fierce. It felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been poured over the top of his head, his skin was on fire, electrified.

Because that was exactly what he wanted. To go wherever Eddie was. To be wherever Eddie was. Always.

It was the revelation of the century and his stomach felt like it was doing full on gymnastics inside of him. What in the ever-loving-absolute fuck.

He was awe-stuck, momentarily having forgotten where he was and who he was with. He glanced up, feeling wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and met Eddie's eyes who mirrored his expression impeccably.

Eddie spoke first. "What the fuck, Richie!" But he didn't sound accusatory, he sounded as though an awareness like no other had just dawned on him. As though he had just learned something ground-breaking not only about his best friend but himself, as well.

Richie felt like a deer in headlights, and he whispered an exact replica of Eddie's statement: "What the fuck, Richie."

Suddenly, he realized that his hand was still on Eddie's foot, still rubbing mindlessly, and pulled it back so quickly, almost as though it stung him to keep it there. Eddie carefully lifted his legs from Richie's lap and Richie very consciously, so as to not touch Eddie anywhere, crept out from under him and off the bed entirely.

He ran a hand through his tousled hair, brought it down the side of his face roughly, and stared at Eddie.

Eddie stared back just as vehemently. Just as stunned. And Richie knew he wasn't the only one having a major, earth-shattering self-revelation here. The way Eddie was looking at him right now, as though he just realized his entire world was standing in front of him and staring him in the face... Richie knew he wasn't alone in this. But that still didn't answer any questions.

In a matter of seconds, all of his memories from the past ten years, every moment since the day he met Eddie, came flooding to the front of his mind. All the shared glances, the obscene and suggestive banter, the fucking touching, fighting, everything. Richie was home when he was with Eddie, that he had always known, but now he knew what it meant, too.

He had never had a connection with anyone else the way he did with Eddie.

That should have spoke higher volumes than anything else, but he was fucking blind and deaf, apparently. But so was fucking Eddie. How had he not known?

Finally, Richie cleared his throat. "I should go."

Eddie jolted upright from where he was sitting on the bed. "Motherfucker! What do you mean you should go! You're gonna drop that shit on me, and then act like you can just leave!" He wasn't shouting, but he was definitely whisper-shouting, and Richie finally realized that the feeling that built up in the pit of his stomach every time Eddie did something extraordinarily stupid was fondness. Oh, motherfucker, he thought it was cute. Richie was definitely reconsidering everything he thought he knew about himself.

"You have to stay here and figure this out with me!" Eddie continued.

That sounded like the very last thing that Richie wanted to do right now. He groaned, ran a hand down the side of his face again, and had to fight himself to not stomp his foot like a petulant child. "Really, Eddie, do we have to, because I really don't think that sounds like a good idea right now."

"What do you mean that doesn't sound like a good idea!" Eddie all but squeaked. "This is your fault!"

Richie rolled his eyes at that one. "How is it my fault that you wanna bone me? It's only my fault that I want to bone you, apparently!"

"Oh my God, Richie!" Eddie exclaimed, and Richie could see the slight crimson creeping up Eddie's neck.

That pulled an instinctive grin to Richie's lips, the fondness for the other boy exploding within him, and suddenly, it didn't seem shocking, frightening, or anything at all, really. It just seemed normal. Richie fucking loved Eddie, and honestly, that fact probably wouldn't shock anyone. The more he considered it, the more sense it made to him. It had always been there.

He walked towards Eddie once more, feeling strengthened in his certainty. Honestly, he was confident he had never felt more certain about anything else in his entire life. Eddie simply sat there watching him, as wide-eyed as Richie had been moments ago, his legs hanging off the side of the bed.

Richie got down on his knees beside the bed, now eye level with Eddie, and placed his hand onto the other's leg, carefully, cautiously. Once again, it felt like electricity flowing from one point of contact to the other. Suddenly, Richie wanted to be closer, he wanted to feel that fucking everywhere.

"Eds," he started, feigning exasperation. "I think it's fine, you're going to give yourself a brain aneurysm."

"Don't fucking call me that," Eddie returned, absently.

Richie just laughed, full on, throwing his head back, and raised his hand from Eddie's knee to run it through the other's hair before settling on the back of his neck.

"I think it's fucking fine, Eddie," Richie assure again, "You'll just have to tell your mom I can't be sneaking over for those late night visits anymore, though."

And just like that, spitfire Eddie was back and as feisty as ever. Despite the warm palm pressed against the back of his neck, Eddie raised his hand and smacked Richie upside the head, hard enough to knock his glasses askew. "You're a fuckin' moron, Richie," he said, but suddenly he was smiling. Warm. Content.

And just like that, everything was back to normal. Richie crawled back to his spot on the bed, his back against the wall, Eddie's legs in his lap once more. He grabbed his foot once more, and this time, reveled in the electricity that sprang to his fingertips.
Richie was more than eager to see what this newfound revelation would entail. But, for now, this was good.

Him and Eddie, enjoying each other's company. His hand carefully rubbing up Eddie's leg every now and then. Exactly the way they'd always been.

Except now they knew.

Author's Note: Hi, yes, hi. I am alive. It's been a pretty large length of time since I've written anything, and honestly, a much longer length of time since I shared it.

That said, be gentle. Let me know what you think. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And I hope there will be more in the future. I miss writing.

Peace, ya'll.