#richiet

It was the stupid little dance that Pennywise did over your corpse that really got to Richie. That made him abandon all of his fears and go charging towards the stupid fucking clown with a foam sword in his hand. It was a dream, so obviously it wasn’t going to give him anything useful, but damn if he didn’t try to decapatate the clown, and only end up making a bunch of squeaky noises in return.

He always woke up covered in sweat, his hair sticking to his face. He’d reach for his glasses and then turn the light on - and then shiver as he realized that he wasn’t in his familiar bedroom with you next to him, but he was in the Derry Inn. Getting ready to fight the very thing that was taking over his nightmares.

He almost didn’t show up. The initial call from Mike had made him throw up. He nearly bombed his own set on stage. But facing you and telling you that he had to go back to his hometown - that was the hardest part. You, of course, were more than ready to pack up and go with him, especially when you saw the fear in his eyes, but he sat you down, and with no jokes, told you that you couldn’t go.

It was the seriousness that made you agree.

“And this is my friend Eddie, and this is an idiot named Richie,” Beverly said with a grin as she introduced you, a new addition to Derry, to her friends. Eddie looked intrigued, though was still suffering from an asthma attack, while Richie kept staring at you.

“Hey Eddie, Hey Richie,” You said with a grin, looking at the two adorable boys in front of you.

“Ever hear of a throuple?” Richie said, showing himself to be the loudmouth that Beverly had described him as. ‘You, me, Eddie, what do you say y/n?”

Eddie blushed beside Richie, and dug his face into the taller boys shoulder. Beverly laughed in surprise, and you couldn’t help but snort. “Excuse me?”

“What - what did I say?” Richie asked, looking around, feeling the awkward change in the room. “Fuck, did I speak my mind again?”

“Beep beep Richie,” Beverly said.

“Come on, I’ll let you two show me around this small town,” You said, taking Eddie’s left hand, and Richie’s right, cutting into the middle of them. They both eagerly started, leaving Bevvy in their dust.

“Maybe someday I’ll earn your love, Bowers,” Richie said sarcastically while flipping off the bully. Okay, he knew it wasn’t a good mood and he was going to get his ass beat for the second time this week, but he really couldn’t help running his mouth.

He prepared himself for the punch or the kick that was coming, flinching away, getting ready to bolt. But someone came between him and Bowers. It was the last person that he had expected - pretty, popular you.

“Henry Bowers, what would your father say?” You said, raising an eyebrow at the taller bully. His face turned even meaner when his father was brought up. “After all, you are out of warnings from the police. One more incident and you’re going to juvie, isn’t that what they said?”

“This isn’t over, loser,” Henry mocked at Richie, pulling his finger against his throat.

“Get something original,” Richie called back, which made Henry pause, then walk away. Richie Tozier looked at you with a slightly embarrassed look on his face, one that he wasn’t used to putting on. “What was that for?”

“What?” You asked, scrunching your eyebrows. Richie couldn’t help but noticed the cute way that your nose curled up when you did that. “Not everyone thinks you’re a loser Tozier. See you around.”

You walked away from him, carrying on down the street. He watched until you had turned a corner and were out of sight. He leaned back against the brick wall of the general store, his hand clutching at his shirt. “Be still my beating heart,” He performed, though there was no one there to watch.

“Now where do you think you’re going, Richie?” You asked from the bedroom of his apartment. You’d seen the way that he came in, his face pale, beads of sweat across his forehead, looking like he’d just thrown up on the side of the road. “Just breathe for a moment, the world will wait.”

“Maine - Derry.” Richie said, then looked mortified at the fact that he had told you. “You can’t be going there, you can’t go anywhere near there.”

“No, I guess I can’t, since I’m lactose intolerant.” You cracked a joke. That made him calm down for a second, and he smiled nervously. “There you go, let me help you pack, you sure you gotta go?”

“I made a promise.” Richie said, sitting on the bed. You pulled out his suitcase and laid it beside him. As his comedy sidekick, you knew when to take things seriously, but you also knew when to break the tension with a joke.

“You made a promise? And you’re keeping it, why Richie Tozier, that’s a first.” You crossed the room to his underwear drawer and started to pull out clean pairs to help him pack. “What are we thinking, boxers? Briefs? Man thong?”

Richie chuckled at that, and shot you a wink. “Thong’s only fer yer eyes, lassie.” He said, in his Irish cop voice.