Chapter One

Please Eddie, don't make me wait too long.

You left me last September,

"Your mom let me in-"

Richie jerked so hard in his chair that he nearly tumbled to the floor, one hand grabbing his chest as he gasped and stared at the redhead who'd burst into his room.

"Jeesus, Marsh! How many times have you caught the others jackin' it, opening doors like that?"

Bev rolled her eyes, gaze straying to the little radio that was playing on the desk. She raised an eyebrow when she was met with a white-faced Richie, and her lips curled wickedly.

"Is that- Are you listening to The Chordettes, Mr Tozier?"

"Shut up." he answered, reaching over to turn it off, but Bev got there first, grabbing hold of his wrist as her head tipped to one side. Richie swallowed, heart dropping to the bottom of his gut as he watched it dawn in her eyes just which song she was hearing.

Now all I do is wish and wait for you,

Eddie, since you've been gone.

Beverly met his eye, her mouth working then closing again as the song played on, and it was with a horrible, awful fear that Richie watched her brain work behind her eyes. So bright and green as the sea, they bore into his head as though she was viewing his soul, splayed open before her.

Eddie, my love

I'm sinking fast

The very next day,

might be my last.

Please Eddie,

don't make me wait too long.

Oh Eddie, Eddie, I love you so.

"Bev…" his voice cracked.

Eddie, my love.

"Marsh, please..."

Oh Eddie, my love, I love you so…

The song faded away, the lingering chord replaced by the bright voice of the radio presenter, but Bev still didn't let go of his wrist. Richie felt the fear clawing up his throat, and he knew if she didn't stop looking at him like that, he was gonna hurl all over her shoes.

"Bev, I… Please. It's not…"

She blinked at him, before the suspicion and realisation on her face softened, and she tugged him hard from his chair, catching his weight when his legs went weak, and hugged him so hard he struggled to breathe.

"God, how did I not see it- I can't believe-"

Richie shook his head frantically, face buried in her hair, voice fumbling and pitching.

"No! It- it isn't- Bev please, it's not, I'm not."

She drew away suddenly, looking fiercely up into his red, desperate face, and let out a long breath. He met her eye even though every nerve in his body felt like it was trembling, even though he knew it was harder to lie with her looking at him like that.

"If you tell me, right now," she spoke slowly, every word clear with intent, "that I'm wrong, I'll believe you."

Richie drew in a breath, but it caught in his throat as he continued to look at her, the lie sitting heavy and hard like a rock in his throat. It wouldn't go away when he swallowed.

"But if you tell me," her voice dropped lower, soft and secretive, as though his parents might hear, as though Derry might hear, "that I'm right, I will tell you how much I love you, and how little I care."

Richie's face burned hot suddenly, and he was aghast to find his vision watering. Beverly continued to meet his eye, even though she must see the truth on his face, even though she had to see the tears that were ready to spill over.

He wanted so badly to lie. To tell her he just left the song on because it was funny, or because he missed his friend. They all missed him, didn't they? It didn't mean Richie had to love him that way, not any differently from how he loved the others, not any differently from how they all loved him, or Eddie.

But he'd had this shame in his heart for so long, and Beverly looked so determined, so sure and reliable and familiar and safe, that it slipped out of his mouth in a pitiful mumble.

"You're not wrong."

Her expression lit with delight as she hugged him again, even harder than last time as though that were possible, and she peppered kisses across the material of his shirt, at his shoulder where his heart lay.

"I love you, Richard Tozier, more than life itself." she said, stern and firm, and making him chuckle wetly as his tears finally fell.

"I know." he said, sniffing hard and gross and squeezing her back as though it could convey everything he needed to say to her.

"And I don't give two shits who you love," she punctuated every syllable with the solid thump of one fist on his back, "not even one shit, do you hear me?"

Richie dissolved into hiccuped sobbing as she held him, the growing dam of fear he'd been battling alone for so long finally bursting, flooding down his chest and legs, sinking into the floor from the soles of his feet. Bev held him through it, and when he was finally able to scrub his eyes dry and pull away, awkward and embarrassed and faintly ashamed, she placed a hand on either side of his face and kissed his nose.

"I love you, Bev." he croaked.

She smiled prettily.

"I know."

~.~

"How long have you kept that to yourself?" she whispered, hours later, lying on the floor of the Clubhouse and staring at the sky above the hatch.

"Too long." he answered, tipping his head further into her hand as she drew his curls between her fingers.

She hummed, waiting for him to elaborate, and he flushed red. It was automatic, to deflect. He wasn't used to talking openly about how he felt, he'd never been any good at it, and he'd always worried people would bully him for it, or worse, that it would tip them off.

"Which part?" he asked, a long time later, staring at the beam directly above his face.

Bev's fingers paused.

"Whichever part you wanna tell me about."

Richie sighed, feeling weary right to his bones.

"I guess there aren't really separate parts." he admitted, flushing further red.

"Oh?"

Her question was gentle, a delicate nudge. She was as interested in making him feel okay to speak as she was in what he said, maybe more so. The feeling of security rose in his gut and he turned his face, even at the awkward angle where his head lay on her midriff, to look at her face.

"I never tell you how much I love you, Marsh." he said, and her chuckle made his head shake.

"I know it, anyway." she answered, tracing his cheek with her fingers, "We all do."

Richie grinned warmly and turned back to the ceiling, thinking that maybe it wasn't so awful to talk about feelings. At least with Bev. She wasn't taunting him, or making it into a joke, like she knew it was hard enough for him to open up. He supposed he didn't give his friends enough credit, and felt guilty about keeping secrets, even if they were dark, looming, horrible ones.

He still couldn't quite believe that Bev didn't think he was disgusting.

"He's the reason I worked it out." he admitted eventually, closing his eyes as the anxious fear expanded in his chest.

He had to get the words out, he owed her them, and he wanted her to have them.

"I… worked out why I like… you know. Pushing his buttons more than anyone else's."

Bev smirked, snorting softly.

"You mean you don't just do it 'cause you're bored?"

He bit down his grin.

"Okay, sometimes. But it's… I realised why I like it so much. I like when he's only giving his attention to me."

"Even if he's screaming about bacteria?" Bev chuckled, and Richie groaned through his own grin, shoving at her weakly.

"Shut up. I'm trying to bare my soul here."

Beverly only laughed more, and Richie rolled off of her, to lie on his front and hang over her face, watching the amusement dance over her skin as her eyes flashed. It had never been awkward, being this close to Bev. Not the way it was with other girls. He was close enough to kiss her, if either of them wanted to, which he definitely didn't and was more than sure she didn't either. At least not romantically.

But it had never been awkward, never uncomfortable, never… weird. This thing that they had, all of them, this bond that had stretched and snapped into place like a rubber band so long ago when they fought and killed a monster, it was something real and special. Bev looked up at him and smiled like she could hear his thoughts, and Richie rested his chin atop her heart.

"You're beautiful, you know." he told her, wanting to give her something for all the love she'd given him, and he watched her smile as her cheeks took on a pink glow.

"As pretty as Eddie?" she teased, batting her eyelashes at him, and squealing when he pinched her.

"You are so mean, Beverly Marsh!"

She rolled away from him as he got to his knees, laughing brightly and darting up the ladder before he could catch her.

~.~