Richie had accepted that he had a crush on Eddie, really with how much he thought about the other boy if he hadn’t it would be driving him crazy. He hadn’t told anyone but in a town like Derry that was a given, wouldn’t want to get called faggot more than he does now anyway. Yes, he had accepted that if he was anything, that if Richie really truly thought about himself that, hey, maybe the graffiti in the toilets wasn’t wrong. Richie Tozier sucks flamer cock...well he wished anyway. Yet, despite all this awful acceptance that he had to deal with, it didn’t mean that he had accepted everything, you know? Sure, Richie was gay, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t have another ‘dirty little secret’ he was worried about. See Richie’s mum, bless her, had hoped to g-d that she would be given a daughter, a sweet baby girl who she could teach kindness and show her how to be, not that she hated Richie (the opposite was true in fact) but this cause an idea to worm its way into Richie’s brain and wouldn’t leave him alone. The facts of the matter are threefold; 1. Richie was a boy, 2. Richie was gay, 3. Richie might want to wear dresses.
The combination of weed and Bev was how most things that Richie has ever regretted started – they always managed to make Richie’s trashmouth freer and looser than it already is. The two of them were sprawled across Bev’s floor, lazily passing a blunt between them; Richie blew smoke out his mouth, coughed and sat up abruptly. Bev lazily turned her gaze towards him before pushing herself onto her elbows, “What’s up?” She questioned, taking in Richie’s puzzled expression, “is everything, like, ok?”. Richie paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, “I-you-Bev?”, he looked at her as seriously as she had ever seen Richie look at anyone, “promise you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to say...”, Bev sat up fully, brushing her pinkie finger against Richie’s before entwining them and gently kissing his knuckles before detangling their hands, “I never told anyone about Eddie, Rich. I pinkie promise that I won’t tell anyone about this”. Richie smiled at her, leaning forwards to kiss her cheek, “Yeah, I know, I trust you...it’s just...” Richie paused, biting his lip, “I, maybe, sort of, want to wear dresses” he finished meekly. Bev turned to face Richie fully, crossing her legs and angling her head to the side “huh...” She breathed out before breaking out in a grin, “at least one of you boys has taste”. A laugh burst its way out of Richie’s throat, he pushed Beverly over, “Christ, can’t you ever be serious, Miss Beverly Marsh”, but the smile that was shining through his crooked teeth, showed that he was grateful.
The two stayed on the floor for a beat, before Bev suddenly jumped up and clapped loudly, “Ok! Ok! I have an idea, don’t worry you can say no but...just go along”, Richie pushed his hair away from his forehead and slowly got up, groaning when his knees clicked, “well, I guess you better tell me what the plan is first”, a (bad) English accent tumbling from his lips. Bev gave no response but turned towards her wardrobe, flinging the doors open and rooting around inside. She made a triumphant noise before turning around with an item of clothing dangling from its hanger that she held in her hand, “What would you say about playing a little dress-up?”. Richie stared at what was in Bev’s grip, it was a black satin slip dress that Richie had seen Bev wear numerous times before, his fingers had always ached to touch it, to feel it sway against his legs, he gulped before stretching his hand out, Bev transferring the hanger from her hands into his own, she smiled and gestured wildly, “Aren’t you going to try it on?”. The two had always been incredibly comfortable with each other so without a second to pause, Richie slipped his denim shorts off and slipped his Hawaiian shirt off of his shoulders, he began to tug his white t-shirt off but Bev stopped him with an exclamation of “No, hold on, leave that on, I think it’ll look cute!”. Richie blushed before he gently pulled the dress of off its hanger, holding it with such care that one would of thought it was an ancient historical document. Stepping into the dress Richie slowly wiggled his way into it. When it was fully on, Richie smoothed his hands along the material of it, in awe at the smoothness of it against his skin. Looking up, he noticed Bev’s inquisitive stare, “So?”, she questioned with a grin. Richie shifted his gaze upwards, a smile breaking out across his face, “You think I’m sexy enough to seduce Mrs K in this?”, Bev groaned, grabbing Richie’s shoulder and turning him towards the full-length mirror in her room. Richie gasped “Holy Fucking Shit!”, he stared at his reflection, relishing in the image that he saw before him, the dress settled at just above his knees, exposing the expanse of freckles and scars that made up his legs, his eyes followed upwards, noticing the way the dress fit along his body and with a start realised that Bev had been right, as always, when she insisted he keep his shirt on. With a careful hand, Richie pulled his Star of David out from where the dress was covering it, laying it flat against his chest. With a great sigh of a relief and a wink to his own reflection, he started swaying and, grabbing Bev by the hands, jumping up and down, spinning the two around the room. He shouted and repeated the same phrase and over again, the joy he felt emphasised by the goofy smile that spread from ear to ear. Bev exclaimed happily with him, until the two of them were out-of-breath and collapsed on the floor, smiles still decorating their faces. They turned to each other, giggling starting up again. As they waited for their laughing to subside, Bev looked over at Richie, “Hey, how about you keep that dress, I think it looks better on you anyway”, Richie hummed “I might take you up on that offer”. The two of them grinned.