⊹ ࣪ ˖ RICHIE TOZIER ۶ৎ

⋮ ⌗ ┆it’s times like these when the world of derry seems to stop spinning like the wheel of your rusty old bike. when the pressures of being a young adult, paying rent and trying to make it by can be set aside. you hate to admit how lost you get in these moments with your boyfriend, richie.

his room is a time capsule of his interests back in his middle school days, street fighter being the biggest, along with a few comics and such that he’s still very much into. the house was empty, the rest of the losers out of your hair.

so, you did what two horny teenagers would do when they had alone time.

⋮ ⌗ ┆the air smelled of sex and smoke from richie’s joint he had stolen from bev, the sheets of his bed wrinkled and still warm. he wore his usual, a baby blue hawaiian-print shirt, this time with nothing under it, displaying the lean, pale muscle of his torso with a few hickeys on it (your courtesy), as well as some dark blue jeans with the belt half undone. his dark loose curls were messy, his glasses slightly fogged and hanging low on his nose, making his brown eyes look a lot bigger.

you sat on his lap in nothing but his freese’s department store shirt and underwear, your hair equally messy and a few pinkish red marks still blooming on your neck, your lipgloss smudged. your gaze flicked over his features, his back leaned against his headboard, as he blew the smoke out of his rosy lips, still lightly kiss swollen. the silence was comfortable, but you were the first to break it.

“i never asked, why do you have, like, prescription 40 glasses? you look like your in a fishbowl.” you asked, flicking the plastic bridge of his glasses for emphasis. richie frowned slightly, his eyebrows furrowing, a pout forming on his lips, but he answered anyway.

“my eyesight is shit, doll. i’ve had these babies since elementary.” he responded with a shrug, taking another slow drag of the joint and blowing the smoky ribbons up toward his ceiling. you raised an eyebrow at his words.

“really? i’ve only known you since middle school. i’ve never really seen you with them off.” you responded, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him through your lashes. richie’s free hand moved almost automatically to rest in your hair, long fingers running gently through the strands. he hummed softly in response to your words.

“yeah, guess not.” he responded. you stared at him for a moment. his features were sleek, sharp and handsome beneath soft freckles from summers in this maine heat. but his glasses magnified his eyes to a bit more than a normal amount, making him look more like a lost puppy than some mature young adult.

richie caught you staring, and raised an eyebrow. “what?” he asked, his fingers pausing their movements in your hair.

“can i see you without them?” you blurted. curiosity had won, and you now wanted desperately to know what he looked like without those huge lenses in the way. maybe it would be an improvement.

richie considered for a moment, which was barely a few seconds. when it comes to you, he’s a fool. so he shrugged and muttered a small, “sure,” before pulling off the glasses with one hand and resting them on his dresser.

your breath caught in your throat.

there were his features, this time more pronounced, a sharp jawline, a sleek nose dusted with light freckles, and perfectly-sized dark brown eyes with thick lashes. he looked absolutely beautiful, stunningly handsome. you stared shamelessly.

“fuck, i can’t see shit.” he muttered, squinting his eyes as he tried to focus on your blurry figure. “your not saying anything, babe. hello? {{user}}?? what, do i look like more of a loser? hello?”

he asked you, trying to snap you out of your trance. the trance he had caused.