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derryhawkins · 5 years

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Life is a Highway [3/49]

summary: The seven of them made a plan in middle school: use the months between high school and college, and take a road trip through all of the states. Their twelve year old minds didn’t think it would actually happen, but six years later with enough saved up money, they’re going on an extremely long trip together in a large van. pairings: reddie; benverly; hanbrough; stanpat chap word count: 6.5k a/n: hopefully i remembered everyone who wanted to be tagged! if i didn’t/if you want to be added to the taglist just send me an ask x

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chapter three: rhode island

Ben wakes up half on the row of seats and half off, arm and leg hanging off and onto the floorboard of the van. A body is pressing against his own a little bit. He turns his head a little bit to see the back of Mike’s head. Mike is still asleep, laying on his side as he’s squished between Ben and the backrest of the seats, and they’re sharing Ben’s pillow, making them awfully close. At first Ben feels bad, but Mike doesn’t look uncomfortable so Ben just turns his head back around and stares at the back of the row of seats in front of him.

It’s day three of the road trip. After Salem, they spent one more night in Massive Two Shits, and then drove to Rhode Island early in the morning. It was a calm drive. Not very lively, actually, since they were all still half asleep during it. Yesterday, after getting into Rhode Island, they didn’t do much. There was a cliff walk thingy they decided to do, and after seeing they could go to the beach, they went shopping for swimsuits for whoever didn’t bring anyway (AKA Richie, Mike, and Bill) along with sunscreen and towels. They didn’t go to the beach though, because by the time they wanted to all the public ones were closed. So, that’s what they’re doing today. That is, if anyone else can wake up.

Ben turns and lifts his head to look out the window. The sun isn’t too high up in the sky, meaning it’s still early in the morning. The inside of the van is filled with sounds of sleeping. Bill’s loud snores that they’ve all gotten used to, Eddie’s occasional sleep talk, Mike’s soft snores (Ben didn’t even realize he snores until this trip), and Richie’s random hums of content (nothing sexual, thank God). Last night, no one really wanted to find a hotel or motel to stay in, so they found a safe place to park the van and got situated there. Mike and Ben got one of the middle rows, and Eddie and Bev got the first row – they’re in no doubt a similar position to him and Mike – while Richie took the floorboard in front of it. Bill leaned back the driver’s seat almost all the way, and Stan did the same with the passenger’s seat; the two of them fell asleep there, everyone with their own pillows and blankets – except for Ben and Mike, who somehow ended up sharing a pillow.

Some minutes later, Ben slides onto the floor and just lays there for a moment or two before carefully sitting up. He then grabs his wad of clothes from under the seats and carefully and slowly slips on the shorts he wore the day before. He then grabs his shoes and the shirt, and made sure his wallet is in his shorts’ pockets before standing up and getting out of the van as quietly as possible. Ben rubs at his face and runs his hands through his hair after putting on the shoes and shirt outside, only to freeze as the van door slides open again to reveal Eddie, half asleep with wild hair but fully dressed. They both just stare for a moment.

“Uh. Morning?” He winces as it came out as a question and not a greeting, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. He grunts in response and rubs at his eyes. “How’d you sleep?”

“Terrible,” Eddie mutters. “Not because of any of you guys, but just…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, and sighs. “Sorry, I don’t feel like talking about it right now.”

Ben nods. “That’s alright, man.” He guesses that it has something to do with his mom, or maybe he’s homesick; either way, he doesn’t push into it. “You can sleep on the beach later – I’ll make sure you’ll wake up from time to time to put on sunscreen.”

A smile – albeit a tired one that doesn’t reach his ears – forms. “Thanks, Ben. Where’re you going?”

He motions down the road vaguely. “To the gas station for some coffee. Wanna come with?” Eddie gives him a grimace, and he doesn’t need to say a thing for Ben to know what he’s thinking. “It’s good!” Ben promises. “Nothing like hotel coffee, I swear.” Still, Eddie stares at him with the grimace expression. “You don’t have to get any.”

Eddie then looks offended. “Of course I’m getting some!” He whispered-shouts, glancing shortly at the van, and they both know that if he had been any louder he would’ve woken some of the others. “But if I get some disease because of you-.”

Ben’s hands move up in mock surrender. “Eddie, if you get sick from the gas station coffee, I give you permission to do anything you want to me.”

Instantly, they both freeze, both thinking how wrong that sounded, and it doesn’t help that an amused snort comes from inside the van. Eddie rolls his eyes, and Ben shakes his head as the shorter boy tells Richie to shut up. Then, the two are off to the gas station. They’re both still mildly half asleep so the conversation is minimal, but the company is appreciated – at least on Ben’s side. He likes spending time with Eddie – even though he can be too much sometimes, but in certain degrees, that can go for any one of them – and, unfortunately, the two haven’t spent one-on-one time together in a while.

It’s not until they’re in the gas station and making seven coffees when they really talk again, just so they can make sure they’re making everything okay enough for the others.

“Bill likes a lot of creamer, right?”

“Yeah, the weirdo.”

“I literally just watched you dump a shit ton of sugar in your coffee, Eddie.”

“Okay, and? Wait- does Stan like coffee?”

“Black.”

“Great, okay.”

“Richie likes is black, too, yeah?”

“Yeah, but with some sugar. No creamer.”

“Mike?”

“Honestly, he drinks anything. Bev likes hers strong, right?”

“Yep, with only a little bit of creamer, and some sugar.”

When they’re done and are standing with seven cups of coffee on the counter in front of them, they hi-five, proud of themselves. Eddie then grabs a pen out of his fanny pack – which Ben doesn’t even notice until then – and he puts everyone’s initials on the lids. Ben pays for all of them, mutters a sorry to the cashier as he does so, and then thanks the employee after it’s all done. On the walk back to the van, Eddie carries three and Ben carries four with ease.

They got there only to see everyone else already up and about. The two slow down as they get closer, matching expressions of confusion on their faces because usually it takes a lot for everyone to be up at the same time this early. Sure, it’s not extremely early, or anything, but the chances of everyone getting up at the same time is slim. Their confusion quickly morphs into amusement as the Piña Colada song meets their ears.

Richie and Bill are on top of the van, loudly singing along. The two are barely even dressed for the day; Richie is wearing one of his Hawaiian shirts, unbuttoned, with a loose pair of old gym shorts he slept in, and Bill is just in boxer shorts and socks, a baseball cap backwards on his head. Mike is trying to take a picture with Bill’s camera, but both Richie and Bill are moving too fast to get a good one. Beverly is sitting on the edge and dodges one of Richie’s legs, and then Stan is standing a little ways away, arms crossed and trying to not look amused. No one is dressed properly, Ben realizes, as he looks at his friends. Everyone minus him and Eddie are still in what they slept in. He glances around at the few morning runners, and gives a sorry smile as one in particular glares at them.

“Yes, I like Piña Coladas!” Richie belts out along with the van’s radio and slings an arm around Bill’s shoulders. “And getting caught in the rain!”

Bill laughs and leans into Richie. “I’m not much into health food, I am into champagne!” He puts an arm around Richie’s waist, and they sing loudly – correction: terribly – through the rest of the chorus together.

“I’ve got to meet you by tomorrow noon, and cut through all this red tape—.”

“How long were we gone?” Ben leans down to speak to Eddie, neither taking their eyes off of their, quite frankly, embarrassing friends.

Eddie shakes his head. “Like… Forty minutes? What the fuck. They could’ve changed – Bill could’ve put on clothes!”

“Bill streaked through one of the high school’s football games,” Stan states as he walks up. “I’m honestly not surprised by him being half naked in public.”

Ben holds out the four coffees he’s holding and lets Stan take his, and then Beverly is sliding down the van and rushes to them, grinning as she goes to Ben as well, taking her own coffee after looking at the initials. “Wasn’t that for a dare?” He asks Stan. “By you?”

Stan hides his smirk behind the coffee while he takes a sip.

“—and we laughed for a moment, and I said, ‘I never knew’—.”

Beverly giggles as she holds her coffee. “I think we shouldn’t give them their coffee,” she says, and the three of them watch as Richie dramatically sings a song about piña coladas while dancing terribly, and as Bill does everything equally as bad without a care in the world about being in just boxer shorts and socks. Ben honestly wonders how a cop hasn’t walked up yet and taken them in for public indecency.

“They’ll be worn out by the end of the day because of the sun,” Ben says.

It’s said in hope, though. Nothing has really ever stopped the duo on the van from doing chaotic, obnoxious, stupid things before – and Bev knows that, too. So when she gives him a look of disbelief, silently saying she doubts that’ll happen, Ben can’t argue with her. Not that he would argue with Bev, anyway.

Mike walks up, then, with an amused smile. Eddie hands him his coffee, to which Mike takes with a thanks, which then prompts Bev and Stan to thank the boys as well since they had forgotten to earlier. “Should we stop them?” He asks.

“Hey, eyesores!” Stan shouts above the playing music and singing. Richie and Bill stop almost instantly. “Ben and Eddie brought coffee, and if you want some before I throw it away, I suggest you stop embarrassing yourselves.” A pause. “And put some fucking clothes on, Bill.”

Ben watches as Bill looks down at himself. Blue eyes grow wide, and suddenly he’s sliding off of the van and diving into it, shutting the door behind him. Richie gets off and comes over next.

“You could have invited me to come with, y’know,” Richie says as a thanks when he takes the cup from Eddie. “I was awake, too.”

“We know,” is all Eddie replies with. The words quickly start their daily routine of bickering, and Ben steps away from them.

He takes a sip of his own coffee as Mike takes Bill’s from his other hand. Mike and Stan begin to talk, sipping their coffees, and soon enough Bill is joining them – fully dressed now with the cap still backwards on his head – and he takes his cup from Mike, the two sharing smiles.

Ben turns to Bev and motions to her coffee with his own. “How is it?”

“It’s good, actually,” she says. “I never expected gas station coffee to be this good. And you made it perfectly. Thanks.”

He sheepishly shrugs. “Ah, it’s nothing, just some coffee.”

“Maybe but I’m still thanking you for it. Hey, are you ready for the beach today? I know that, uh…” Bev trails off and paused for a short moment, clearly figuring out the right words to say. “You’ve said something before, a few times, about not being body confident and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Warmth spreads through his chest. He knows that the others know about him being self conscious and all, but for some reason he hadn’t been expecting anyone to bring it up. To make sure he feels comfortable. Let alone that person being Bev. But at the same time, it makes sense that she’s the one making sure he’s alright. She did the same thing with Stan and his route when they decided to go to Salem.

Ben feels himself fall a little.

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her with a smile. “Most likely I’ll just wear a shirt that I don’t care too much about with my swim trunks.”

The thing is, Ben knows he’s not fat like he had been as a child. Overweight and chunky. He actually used to be fine with his weight until middle school came around, and that’s when the self consciousness came into play. And at first he wasn’t even going to lose weight. Eventually he did, most for himself but also to spite the bullies, and the fact that he did track helped out; as did eating healthier. Now, he’s still got some fat on him. He doesn’t have a ‘perfect’ male body, that’s for sure – the only one closest to that is Mike – but he’s got descent muscle and all, and he’s at a healthy weight that fluctuates. Still, he feels insecure sometimes. Not as often and not as much as he did in his early teen years, but it’s still there.

Bev looks up at him and nods. “I figured. Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable – and I’m sure the others do too.”

“Hey, if I wasn’t comfortable, I would have asked if we could do something else.”

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Ben, honey, you ate oysters last year because you couldn’t say no to Mr. Denbrough. You hate oysters.”

Ignoring the term of endearment – mentally, at least, because physically, his cheeks turn red – Ben winces.

“You puked after.”

“A lot can change in a year,” he defends himself poorly, because he knows that Bev knows that he wouldn’t have suggested a different place if he wasn’t comfortable with the beach.

Bev just gives him a tiny smile and squeezes his upper arm. “You’re a sweetheart, Ben,” she says quietly. “But maybe learn to say no?” Her nose scrunches up at the suggestion.

He chuckles. “I’ll try,” he promises. “Also, I swear I’m comfortable with the beach.”

“I know, I believe you. I just care about you.” There’s a small pause, and her cheeks turn the slightest pink. “We all do,” she adds quickly.

“Bev!” Eddie calls, now by the van, waving to get her attention. They both look at him. “Can you help me find my old Thundercats shirt?”

Bev smiles and nods. “Be there in a second!”

“I’ll help too—.”

A chorus of, “No, Richie,” is heard from Eddie, Bev, and Bill. Richie gapes at them and dramatically huffs, eliciting a small laugh from Ben.

+++

“Kowabunga, dudes!”

From behind the group, Richie dashes forward, yelling in pure excitement. Bill is right after him, and so is Bev. All three run down the wooden ramp and take off their flip flops to run easier through the sand to get to the chairs and two umbrellas they rented – and they weren’t too expensive, thank God. And before Stan knows it, Eddie is chasing after the three of them as well, equally excited, but pushing that away for the time being to make sure they put on sunscreen; they have, everyone has. Stan watches them and cracks a smile as Bill faceplants into the sand right behind their chairs. He can hear Bev’s laughter mix with Richie’s almost instantly, and Eddie freezes where he is before laughing as well. A few groups of families and friends look their way, amused at Bill as well, before moving on with their lives.

Mike chuckles beside Stan as they get off the ramp. Behind them, Ben carries a backpack that was carefully packed earlier with some sandwiches, water, and fruit.

Stan steps into the sand and slips off the flip flops with ease. He grimaces a bit. He isn’t fond of sand – it gets everywhere so easily – but he can tolerate it enough to enjoy some time with his friends. By the time he gets to the four chairs with Mike and Ben, Bev has chucked off her coverup and hung it over one of the chairs with her towel and is now standing ankle deep. The waves, which are a bit rough but nothing huge, crash onto the shore and her ankles. Richie isn’t too far behind. He takes off his shirt with ease and lets it fall on the sand by his crumpled up towel and flip flops before running to stand with Bev.

Stan carefully puts his towel on the back of one of the chairs that’s directly under one of the two umbrellas. “I can already see Richie trying to go out to the other sandbar and drowning,” he says to Mike, light hazel eyes going over the choppy waters and cloudy sky, anxiety starting to bubble up.

It probably isn’t the best day for a beach trip, but they’re here anyway so they might as well have some fun.

“He won’t drown,” Mike assures.

“We’ve all been to the beach only, like, a handful of times during our eighteen years of living. If at all! What if he doesn’t know about rip currents? How strong are the rip currents today anyway? They get pretty strong, y’know, and—.”

“Stan,” Mike interrupts. He lays a comforting hand on Stan’s shoulder, tilting his head down the littlest bit to see under the umbrella. “It’s Richie. He’s a dumbass but he’s not stupid. Also, Eddie is with them.”

At that, Stan looks back to the shore. Sure enough, Eddie is standing a few feet away in the damp sand with crossed arms. It’s then that Stan notices Eddie’s things in the chair beside his own.

“Y-Yeah, Rich isn’t gonna swim too far with Eddie, especially since Eddie’s never been to the beach,” Bill speaks up.

“All the more reason for him to go to the sandbar,” Stan says. He knows Richie. But so do Bill and Mike. They also know Eddie. If he isn’t doesn’t want to go to the sandbank, they won’t; but if he does… Stan doesn’t think about that. At least, he tries not to. He doesn’t need to become so worrisome so early. “But, really, how strong are the rip currents?”

“They’re there but not too strong,” Ben says from a few feet away. “Only thing we gotta worry about is the possible storm that’s coming in. Heard some locals talking about it.”

All of them make faces of disappointment. “That sucks,” Mike mutters. “Well. Better make the most of it while we can!” And then he’s slipping off his own shirt and racing to the ocean like some sort of model.

Stan stares for a moment. He’s expecting himself to blush deeply and feel the familiar fast beating of his heart and a swarm butterflies in his chest. And he does. Except it’s not as strong as he distinctly remembers it being two days ago. As he slips off his shirt, Stan thinks to himself. Well, he tries to, because those feelings towards Mike certainly aren’t as strong as they had been and—

And then Richie is running up to him.

Stan yells as Richie wraps his arms around him, throwing the boy over his shoulder. Stan tried to push himself away. “Richie, let me go! Rich- Ben! Hey, help me, please! Richie, I am going to drown you!”

Richie laughs. “No you won’t!”

“Sorry, Stan!”

“Richard! I will— .”

Richie lets go and Stan falls into the ocean. As a wave goes passed them, Stan makes a move to his friend but then Eddie is tackling the lanky boy into the water. It’s a familiar sight. Except this time, instead of the green and calm waters of the quarry, it’s in the choppy and blue waters of the ocean. Stan snorts, then stumbles as a weight is on his back, water splashing into his face thanks to Eddie. He spits out the salt water with a look of disgust.

“Sorry, Stan,” Bev laughs in his ear, repeating Ben’s words.

He hummed. “No, you’re not.”

She laughs again and slides off. “You’re right, I’m not. I was trying to knock you over.”

Stan turns and playfully glares at her, paired with his middle finger. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!” Bev retaliates with, still smiling.

“Fuck b-both of you!” Bill shouts and does what Bev couldn’t. He knocks Stan over, but brings Bev with them both.

Stan kicks Bill away underwater before popping above the surface again. He’s smiling, though; he’s happy to be with his friends, and he notices that the more fun he’s having the less he’s worried about something going wrong. So, he keeps at it. He jumps with the waves, and they play chicken the best to their abilities. Ben eventually joins them, joining in on the fun.

At some point, Stan ends up holding Richie like a baby. He looks down at his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Why.”

Richie shrugs. He situates his arms and hands around Stan’s neck better. Stan rolls his eyes and lets go, but Richie lets out a small shout and scrambles to wrap himself around Stan like a koala, refusing to touch the ground. Stan stands there with wide eyed, arms spread out. He looks over at their friends. Bev and Bill went to the sandbar. They’re standing over there, pushing each other around like everyone had been earlier. Ben is with Mike, the two closer to the shore. Eddie is close by, floating on his back as he looks at the clouds.

Stan then looks back at Richie. “What the actual fuck, dude.”

“I am not stepping in the sand,” Richie says hurriedly and quietly.

“What?” Sometimes, Stan doesn’t understand Richie. This is one of those times. But as he recognizes anxiety on his features, Stan lets the judgement go away. “Richie, seriously, you’re making me worry.”

“Okay. Don’t freak out,” Richie starts.

Stan tenses up. “Oh, my God, there’s a shark, isn’t there?”

“No! No, if there was, the lifeguard people would’ve told us to get out by now. But…”

“Richie, I swear to fucking—.”

“There is a stingray.”

Stan takes a breath. He’s ready to scream out a ‘what’ but before he can, Richie is covering his mouth with one hand and glaring at him. It comes out muffled.

“I said not to freak out,” he hisses.

Stan bats Richie’s hand away. “Not freak out?” He repeats. “About a fucking stin—?”

“I don’t want Eddie to find out,” Richie rushes out in a whisper and motions to his crush. “He’s having fun.”

And, that’s true. Eddie’s not simply floating and looking at the clouds anymore. Instead, he’s just swimming around with Mike, and diving into the bigger waves to avoid them crashing on him. Stan sighs and looks at Richie.

“And, like, stingrays aren’t that dangerous, we just can’t step on them. But he won’t listen to that, he’ll just freak out, and I don’t want that.”

“Then why tell me? Why even bring it up?”

“Because I think I just discovered a new fear.”

Stan bites his tongue and tries not to laugh. He really tried to hold it in, but the laughter bubbles out anyway. Richie’s frowning, almost pouting, and it just causes Stan to laugh harder. “I’m- shit, I’m sorry, but. Richie. Seriously?”

“It’s rational!” He defends himself.

“I know! But this is so ironic. You’re basically doing what you don’t want Eddie to do.”

“...No I’m not.”

“Then get down.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“Wha- Ah!”

Stan cuts Richie off by shoving him off and into the water. In an instant, Stan is swimming away as fast as he can. Richie yells at him but Stan ignores it, and jumps behind Mike.

“Mike, move!”

Mike doesn’t move. He stands there, thoroughly confused. “Why?”

Eddie looks between them all, amused. Dark hair flat on his forehead, the ends curly slightly now that whatever product he puts in has been washed out thanks to the ocean water. No one says anything as Richie lunges to jump over Mike. He fails terribly. He doesn’t even get over Mike; his arms and chin land awkwardly on his left shoulder as Mike catches him, and Stan swims backwards a little bit.

“Dude, what’s going on?” Mike asks with a laugh.

“He shoved me into the water!”

“We’ve been doing that, Rich,” Eddie says. “Idiot.”

Richie moves away from Mike and huffs. He grumbles something none of them can hear and fixes his glasses – something that everyone is very surprised that he hasn’t lost yet.

It doesn’t take long at all for Richie to get distracted by Eddie. Stan looks around. The clouds are darkening the slightest bit, but other than that the weather hasn’t exactly changed. He then looks in the water. Richie’s comment about there being a stingray makes him wonder if being in the water is a danger. He doesn’t say anything about it, though, especially with Eddie close by. He truly is having fun, and other than a rant on the way to the beach about the different germs that could possibly be in the ocean, Eddie hasn’t freaked out much over anything. So, Stan just stands a bit straighter, which catches Mike’s attention.

“Are you leaving me?” Mike asks, feigning a pout.

Stan glances away from his face for a moment. Yeah, his crush is still there, alright; the feelings just aren’t as strong as they have been. “I’m getting too pruney,” Stan says, rather than mention the anxiety Richie accidentally planted in his head about the oceanic wildlife. He lifts his hands out of the water as if to show a point.

Mike nods. “Alright. I’ll herd everyone in to get something to eat in a few.”

Stan gives him a small smile. Then, he’s going to shore and he makes his way to the chairs, careful not to get too much sand on him on the walk back. He grabs his towel once he’s there and wraps it around himself. Ben is sitting in one of the chairs that’s out in the sun, flipping through one of Bev’s fashion magazines extra carefully so he doesn’t ruin the pages. Stan doesn’t want to abandon his friends – you’re not abandoning them, the rational part of his brain chastises, barely heard over the thoughts diving into what might happen if someone got stung by a stingray – but at least Ben is with him.

+++

Two hours later – after eating some snacks and drinking water and putting more sunscreen on – a few of the Losers go back into the water while the rest stay by the rental chairs and umbrellas. Eddie is passed out in the sun as he lays on his stomach, his towel between his body and the sand, and Bev sits in the chair beside him, sunglasses over her eyes as she soaks in the sun. Stan lays under one of the umbrellas, the chair leaning all the way back, with a towel over his head and face as he sleeps too. Then there are Bill, Ben, Mike, and Richie. The four of them went back in the water the moment they were able to, and went back to the sandbar once Stan fell asleep, and now they’re back, looking for seashells and sand dollars blindly since they don’t have goggles.

Bill sucks in a deep breath of air and squeezes his eyes shut before diving back into the water. Blindly, he digs around in the sand as long as he can, staying under water until his lungs are burning for oxygen. He pops above the surface with a gasp of air and shakes his head as if he were a dog. Ben comes up a second later, doing the same thing, but pushes his hair from his forehead unlike Bill.

“Anything?” Richie asks, glasses gone. Mike made sure he left the glasses with the others, and the three boys take turns making sure the boy doesn’t do anything stupid or harmful with his blurry sight.

“It’s hard,” Ben says with a shake of his head. He lifted up a severely broken seashell. “Without any goggles, we aren’t gonna find anything good.”

Bill frowns and takes the broken seashell from Ben. “I mean, it’s still pretty,” he tries.

Richie rolls his eyes. “We’re missing three-fourths of it, dude.”

“How can you tell? You’re fucking blind without your glasses!”

“Billiam, I can still see shapes, you dumbass.”

“Oh, right.”

They all laugh.

None of them stay in the water for too long after that. Bill quickly notes the darkening sky and clouds, but doesn’t say anything about it. He knows everyone else can see it, as well as the locals who are starting to leave despite the day not being over at all. They soon get to their other friends again, and they take their towels from where they left them and start to dry off.

Bill turns to where Richie stands. He’s about to ask if they have any other plans for the day, but stops as he realizes the teen is staring intently at something. Bill moves to stand beside him and follows Richie’s line of sight. Two girls around their age stand not so far away, holding hands, smiling. It’s clear that they’re together romantically and Bill can’t help but be surprised that they’re being even the slightest couple-y out in the open like this. He hears Richie sigh, so he looks back at his friend and watches as Richie fosses his towel on his head, attempting to dry his wild mess of hair.

“You okay, bro?” Bill asks.

Richie shrugs. He lifts his head, the towel only allowing the other to see the bottom half of his face. His lips curl into a goofy smile. “Never better, Billiam!”

Bill slowly nods. He lays a hand on Richie’s shoulder and squeezes it, a silent touch of comfort. He removes it soon after and goes to step away, to give him some space, but halts as they both notice that a girl is walking their way. The friends share a look once Richie pulls off the towel. He fixes his glasses.

“I saw your staring at that couple,” she says. She has blonde hair and bright green eyes, and she looks less than pleased.

“Uh–.”

“Have something to say about it?”

Richie holds his palms up after setting the towel around his neck. “Whoa, blondie, you got the wrong idea here,” he tells her.

She lifts a brow. “Do I?”

Bill nods. “Y-Yeah! It’s not- we weren’t-.”

“Weren’t what?” Blondie asks. “I know their relationship might not seem okay in the eyes of the majority, but that doesn’t give you a right to stare.”

That takes the boys by surprise. They both quickly start to talk, voices overlapping. Richie tries to explain that he’s not, that he’s very much into boys, but he doesn’t exactly want to out himself to the stranger so not much of anything came out. Bill tries to tell the girl that he doesn’t have a problem with gays and lesbians and bisexuals and everything else, but at the accusation has him stuttering a bit too much.

“What did you two do now?” comes the exasperated question from one of their friends.

Richie perks up and turns. “Eds! Tell this girl we aren’t homophobic!”

Eddie blinks, taken by surprise. “Uh. What? I mean!” His eyes widened dramatically at the girl’s unimpressed look. “I mean, yeah, we- we- none of us are like that. I ho- I think.”

Blondie looks even more unimpressed. “You think?” she asks.

Eddie nervously chuckles. “Yes?”

Bill facepalms.

Richie winces, but he quickly recovers with a sigh and looks to the girl again. “Listen, I’m sorry for staring. I come from a small town, we all do,” he motions vaguely to his friends behind them, not paying too much attention, “so seeing same-sex couples aren’t exactly a norm for us. Just, please, trust us that we’re not like that. I shouldn’t have stared, so. Sorry.”

Bill nods along. “I- It was rude. I’m sorry too,” he says.

The blonde’s brows knit together. “It’s alright,” she eventually tells them. “Mistakes happen. I just know those girls. They’ve been through a lot shit and are finally in a good place. I don’t want anything ruining that.”

Bill smiles. “That’s alright,” he says. His gaze shifts over to Richie, but quickly moves to Eddie instead. His expression is unreadable. “It’s not f-fair how the world s-s-sees same-sex couples,” he says and looked back at the blonde.

Eddie shifts in the sand, arms crossed over his chest as he keeps his gaze down. He mumbles something but none of them catch it.

Blondie nods sadly. “It really isn’t.” She smiles. “I’m Sandy, by the way.”

“I’m Bill.”

“Richie,” the lanky teen introduces himself with a wide grin. “And that’s Eds.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Eddie,” he corrects with a small glare to Richie. There is no heat behind the action, and Richie just grins some more. “It’s nice to meet you, Sandy. Sorry about them being dumbasses.”

Sandy laughs. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re not homophobic, that it was just a misunderstanding.”

“So… Do you like sand?” Richie asks.

Lightning goes across the sky in the distance right then and it’s followed by a crack of thunder.

“I think the universe wants you to shu- shut up,” Bill teases, making Eddie and Sandy both laugh.

The laughter gets cut off as drops nod rain start to fall. It starts off as slow but then in a blink of an eye, the rain pours down harshly. More lightning goes across the sky, and the thunder is louder this time around. The Losers scramble to gather their belongings.

“Shit,” Bill hears Sandy mutter. She rushes up to the group. “Can you drive me home? I walked here.”

Mike nods instantly. “Of course. Care to help us get our things to the van?”

Sandy nods in return and grabs whatever she can. Then, they all run.

+++

They end up all staying at Sandy’s home. The Losers, after they all made it safely to the van and squished in like a can of sardines, explain to Sandy their road trip and how, right now, they didn’t have a place to stay other than the van. She quickly offered her home, said her parents wouldn’t mind, and so they went.

Richie suddenly wants a hotel room. Sandy’s home isn’t bad. It’s actually rather on the bigger side; there is a second floor, along with a basement, and there’s a balcony on the second floor as well. The living room is huge, there are two guest rooms, they have two TVs, and the kitchen isn’t too small. It’s rather that her parents are two women and after getting over the initial shock and awe and the want to bow down to them, in comes the dreaded panic of his own sexuality.

He knows he’s bisexual. He knows he likes Eddie. He knows boys liking boys isn’t exactly a good thing to a society. He knows seeing Sandy’s moms be affectionate to one another – way more affectionate than the couple he stared at on the beach – has an effect on him he doesn’t expect. All he can think about is him and Eddie, and truthfully Richie wants to combust. The women are so close and loving, and they’re sweet and kind, and the looks they give each other makes Richie realize he might give those looks to Eddie without realizing it, and it…

It’s scary, simply put.

He can handle liking Eddie. He can’t handle the realization that he might be in love with Eddie.

Barb and Diane share a quick peck in the kitchen before Barb walks out. Richie quickly looks away from Diane before she can catch him staring and goes back to eating the pizza.

“You okay?” Ben asks from across the table.

Other than Diane, who is making sure the third dozen pizza doesn’t burn in the oven, they’re the only two in the kitchen. Stan is down in the basement with Sandy, Bill and Beverly, while Eddie is taking a shower, and Mike is currently using the home phone in the hallway to talk to his parents.

Richie nods, but doesn’t say anything.

Ben frowns as he chews. Thankfully, he doesn’t press on the matter.

“Oh, pizza!” Eddie excitedly yells as he enters the kitchen.

Richie whips his head to the entrance of the kitchen. Eddie’s hair is damp, the ends curling since he has yet to put product in it. A few strands still stuck to his forehead. The sun today, despite it being cloudy, Richie realizes, did the shorter boy some good. He’s already tanner. The sun exposure has already caused a few freckles to show up, and his cheeks and nose may be a little pink but they all know it isn’t something to worry about. Eddie always seems to burn slightly before getting really tan; it freaks Sonia out, and for a bit of time Eddie wore long sleeves even during the summer time because his mother worried about him getting skin cancer. Now, he doesn’t.

Richie suddenly stands and picks his plate up. A piece of cheese pizza sits on it, untouched. “There’s no more cheese left,” he explains and hands Eddie his.

Eddie takes it, albeit hesitant. “Did you do something to it…?”

He smirks. “Yes, I replaced the sauce with my spit.”

“Richie!”

“I’m joking! Geez, Eds.” He laughs slightly and messes up Eddie’s hair, earning another shout. Truthfully, Richie reached up to push some hair from Eddie’s face, but decided messing it up is the better way to go. “Go eat so we don’t have to deal with your hangry gremlin side.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Stop comparing me to those ugly things.”

“But they’re cute! Just like you!”

“Fuck off,” he mumbles, and gently punches Richie’s arm as he walks by.

Richie rubs the spot with a smile he knows is full of fondness. But it drops as he realizes that Diane is subtly watching them, and he straightens a bit. He clears his throat and leaves the kitchen as quickly as possible without it looking weird. He makes his way to the basement and falls face first into the small couch against the wall, ignoring the short pause in conversation the other four are having as he did so.

“You’re subdued today.”

Richie shrugs but doesn’t move at Stan’s statement.

Stan sighs. He sits on the floor by the couch and when he speaks, it’s low so Sandy and Bev don’t overhear. “Is it about Eddie?”

“I’ve got it bad,” Richie mutters back. He shifts around so he’s looking at his friend. “Like, mega bad. I don’t even think it’s just a crush anymore.”

Stan smiles. “Congratulations,” he whispers, “you finally realized your own feelings.”

“It’s not a good thing.”

The rips Stan’s smile away. “What? Why? I thought seeing her aunts would make things better.”

Richie shrugs. “It does, a little. Still scary.”

Stan pats his friend’s back in comfort. “I’m sorry, Rich.”

“How’s your crush going?” Richie asks after a few moments of silence, but makes sure that he did it quietly so the others can’t hear.

His best friend shrugs. “I think it’s actually starting to go away,” Stan says honestly.

Richie stuffs his face into the cushion again and groans. It just causes Stan to laugh a little, both out of pity and amusement. He pats Richie’s back again and then stands up.

“Alright. Play pool with me, it’ll cheer you up.” When Richie doesn’t move, Stan sighs. “That’s an order, Richard.”

This causes Richie to move. He sits up and smirks, and Stan's previously amused face falls. “Oh, bossy. Just how I like it!”

“Nevermind. Rot into the couch.”

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