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Daring things were his forte, not Eddie’s.
So Richie was understandably confused when he found his boyfriend laying on Bill Denbrough’s basement floor with his shirt off and Beverly Marsh straddling him, a cigarette poking out between her lips and a needle at the ready, posed right above Eddie’s heart.
“Um, hello?”
Bev looked back and smiled a dazzling smile. Her cigarette was unlit, Richie noticed, but not in the John Green ironic way, rather in the I’m Bev and I have a growing oral fixation way. “Tozier, just in time.” She hummed. “You can come and hold your boyfriend’s hand. Act as moral support.”
He didn’t move from his place at the doorway. “And why would I need to do that?”
There was a party upstairs with all sorts of people Richie ought to know from school but didn’t. All he cared about was his best friends in the world, and Eddie was at the top of that list, of course.
“Because I’m getting a tattoo, dumb ass.” Eddie said simply in response.
Richie’s eyes went wide behind his glasses before he stomped over to them. “A tattoo?” They were seventeen, not even seniors at this point. They were too young to be getting tattoos, weren’t they? Christ, he didn’t even have a tattoo! How was Eddie going to get a tattoo before him? “Have you lost your damn mind, Edds?” He dismayed.
There was no way this was really happening.
No way in hell.
Beverly shifted the cigarette from one side of her mouth to the other, rolling her eyes, but she stayed silent. Eddie looked away and didn’t say a damn thing either, his expression becoming familiar in it’s growing stubbornness. “Your mom is going to flip!” Richie squawked, unbelieving.
“What doesn’t she flip out over?” Eddie wiggled around a little bit until he could prop himself up onto his elbows, his glare growing. “What are you so freaked out about, anyways, Tozier?”
Oh, you know, the fact that you were just going to spring this on me out of nowhere! Richie could see it now. Eddie tossing his shirt off at the Kendeskaug, baring his brand new spanking tattoo, taking him by complete surprise. Cripes. What BS. Richie clamped his lips together, deciding it was his turn to pull a silent act.
Bev raised a cool, slow eyebrow in response, reading him like an open book. “You don’t have to worry about me fucking up your boyfriend, Toze. I gave myself one a few months back.” Bev proceeded to shove the left side of jeans down, showcasing a neat little peach on her hip with a pleased grin. It did look nice. “Stick’n’poke is easy peasy. If our lil hypochondriac isn’t freaking out about it, then you have nothing to worry about.”
Richie huffed loudly through his nose before taking a seat next to Eddie on the floor. He folded his arms over his chest as he did, shoving his hands under his armpits. He told himself it was his way of denying Eddie hand holding rights, but really, Richie knew that his hand would find Eddie’s without second thought if he didn’t. “What are you even getting done?” He mumbled, still feeling petulant.
Eddie fell back unceremoniously onto the floor again, hair fanning out, lips curling at the corners. “Lover/Loser.”
Richie’s eyes met Bev’s and she was giving him the same ‘oh I know’ look. Of course that would be the design Eddie wanted pressed into his skin for the rest of his life. He had made it after all, when they were kids, when Greta had really decided to cement that she was, indeed, a total bitch by writing LOSER in bold, black ink.
“Alright, we’re gonna clean the area, draw out the design, and then I get to stab ya.” Did she have to phrase it like that? Richie’s stomach did a flip inside of him and yet when he looked down at his boyfriend he found Eddie the calmest he had ever seen him in years. Forever maybe. “Unless you want Richie-Rich to do the honors?”
“Design yes, stabbing no.” Eddie snorted before looking up at him. “If that’s okay with you…”
“I’d rather not stab you if I don’t have to.” Richie admitted. “I’m not ready for that step in our relationship.”
And that’s how he found himself pressing a ballpoint pen against Eddie’s skin after swabbing it clean with rubbing alcohol from under the Denbrough’s kitchen sink, hand trembling inexplicably. Clearly no reason whatsoever, he told himself. “I have horrible handwriting.” Richie said distractedly as he began on the first letter, dragging it down. The smaller boy’s freckled chest shook with a laugh, nearly causing Richie to fuck up. “Maybe this should be Bev.”
Bev was busy though, her lighter out as she heated the end of the needle. Richie swallowed and continued, trying not to think too hard about what was about to happen. A hand touched his wrist then and it took a moment for him to realize it was his boyfriend’s.
“It’s just a tattoo, Richie.” Eddie said softly, his expression turning concerned.
He gave an awkward little laugh. “Tattoos are kind of permanent, Eddie.”
“And what’s so wrong with that?”
Nothing, everything. The fact that maybe they’d be in college, visiting each other on the weekend, and he might be able to touch that tattoo in the breaking dawn of Eddie’s dormitory on a too small bed. Or maybe it wouldn’t be him but someone else who would see that tattoo, touch it, taste it…
“Something, I’m sure.” He finally settled, hoping his lopsided smile didn’t look too forced. “Watch it get infected.”
“Asshole.” Eddie sighed under his breath, but despite that he leaned up once again, kissing Richie softly upon the mouth. “If it looks bad, I’m blaming you.”
“I told you I have bad handwriting-!”
“Move it, loser.” Bev elbowed Richie in the side, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin before he got the hint and moved. He did take Eddie’s hand into his, preemptively squeezing his fingers tight before the pen-anchored needle even touched him.
It went in and Eddie sucked in a breath before squeezing his eyes shut, clamping his fingers around Richie’s like a vice.
It wasn’t quick work by any means. The combination of the ‘V’ and ‘S’ was the hardest part, of course, the overlapping of the letters and the change in color all adding up for a time and a half. There were tears in Eddie’s eyes and Richie hated the sight of them, but they were too far gone now to stop. “Almost done, sweetheart.” Bev murmured in a comforting voice. “Be glad you’re not getting it on any kind of bone.”
“Isn’t that what you did?” Eddie grit out, causing Bev to chuckle. “You crazy bitch.”
“Someone in the group has to be.” Richie said in a faint voice, making Bev stop to laugh even harder than before.
Sometime later, when things had started to quiet down above head, Bev was finally done. “I’m gonna go get some soap and gauze. Let it breathe for a sec, and don’t touch it!” It was already starting to bleed, painting Eddie’s upper chest red. “That’s normal, Tozier. Don’t have a heart attack.”
“Who said I was?!” Richie threw back, voice cracking halfway through.
She rolled her eyes and left, leaving them there alone. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise.” Eddie said suddenly.
“Aww, it’s okay.” Richie shrugged his shoulders back, keeping his fingers folded into Eddie’s as they continued to wait. “It would have been a pretty cool surprise, if we’re being honest. Hell, I’m still surprised you did it in the first place, Edds.”
Eddie looked down at his chest after a beat and gave a weak, disbelieving laugh. “Fuck.”
That got his attention. “What?”
“My ma’s gonna flip.”
Richie threw his free hand up. “What did I tell you!?”
“S’worth it though.” His lashes fluttered and he squeezed Richie’s hand again, nice and tight. “Now you’re a part of me. Forever.”
Richie went red at that and looked away, knocking his glasses back with an embarrassed noise. “You said it yourself, Eddie, it’s just a tattoo.” The dark hair boy mumbled, curls falling across his brow as he ducked his head.
Eddie sat up and touched his chin, turning Richie’s face until they faced one another. He didn’t kiss his mouth though, like Richie thought he would in that moment. Instead his lips came down like falling petals upon his cheekbones, soft and gentle and infinite. “I’m yours.” Eddie sighed out.
Richie’s lips began to form a smile. “You’re being melodramatic.” He whispered in a delighted voice.
“Romantic.” Eddie countered, smiling against his skin.
“Tomato, toh-mato . You know what they say.” Richie turned his face in full, making it so their lips touched. “But for what it’s worth, I love you, Eddie.” And he’d love him no matter what, for as long as that ink sat upon his skin. “I really do.”
His boyfriend smiled and it was beautiful. “I love you too.”