Chapter One

At first, he wasn't sure what woke him. It was still pitch black, the red glow of his alarm clock signalling it wasn't long after midnight. He lay quietly, wondering if maybe he'd heard someone - Richie, who else? - tossing pebbles at his bedroom window, but the night remained silent around him. He frowned, yawning, having gotten to bed not long before eleven despite Bill reminding him they had an early start.

Eddie smiled softly to himself. It was officially Richie's birthday. His sweet sixteenth. A pretty fucking big deal, and Eddie had plotted with the other Losers for weeks, months even, to make sure everything was as right as they could make it. It was true that they'd teased him for being so organised, even more so than usual, but he knew their taunts and comments about it being Richie weren't malicious. He was Eddie's best friend, besides Bill. And in recent years, maybe even more than Bill. Even if that made Eddie feel a tiny bit guilty.

He turned over, and the flash of heat in his wrist sent him upright with a choked hiss.

Eddie didn't know what the feeling in his gut was as he stared. On his wrist, in a slanted scribble, were two words. He blinked, caught entirely off-guard, a brief flash of nausea rising in his gut. He'd finally gotten it. He'd started thinking it'd be his birthday before he got it, but that's absolutely what it was, right? That's what he was looking at?

His soulmate mark, growing darker on his skin as he stared, like ink seeping out from his veins instead of seeping in from a pen. His heart leapt and spluttered. A million voices started suddenly yelling incoherently in his head. But most of all, one hollered louder than the others, familiar as his own as it whooped and brayed.

Hey, Eds.

Eddie felt like he might actually hurl. Surely… Surely it was a huge, huge, coincidence? A fucking massive coincidence? He couldn't dare, to hope that- It couldn't be. It couldn't be that…

Eddie groaned and flopped back against his pillow, but his wrist stayed clutched in his other hand and he stared at the new words as though they might re-arrange themselves if he looked away. A secret, fierce hope blistered in his chest, but he tried his best to kick it away. His soulmate didn't have to be a guy. Just because he'd- just because he'd only liked one person like that so far didn't mean he had to be…

If his soulmate was a guy, Bowers would have even more reason to hound him. He'd never escape it at school, it'd be realer than now, if it was confirmed. There would be no hiding from it if it was a guy. Oh shit. His mom would kill him. What if it was Richie? She'd kill them both. She hated Richie more than any of the other Losers, oh god. A sharp pain sprang in his chest and his breath became a wheeze, but Eddie fought not to scramble for the inhaler he knew didn't even work.

What, realistically, were the chances that his soulmate happened to share a birthday with his best friend?

Okay, pretty good, millions of people shared birthdays, no big deal. Eddie tried not to get ahead of himself.

But someone else who'd call him Eds? As the first thing they said to him when he saw them next?

It wasn't that original a nickname, true, but there was only one person that Eddie knew who called him by it. His heart kicked and yelped in his chest as he tried to ignore it.

What were the chances that the first thing a stranger would say to him was "Hey, Eds."?

His stomach sloshed with too many clashing emotions and Eddie felt his eyes prick with tears as it overwhelmed him just a little.

~.~

Richie stared at his no-longer unblemished wrist, the dark lines that formed the letters neat and stark against his skin, blurred by his sleepiness and the tears gathered in his eyes. His chest felt heavy and cold and as he drew in a shuddering, hitching breath, he lost the battle with it all. He couldn't stop himself from dissolving into tears fast. He hadn't always been the best person he could be. He knew he was brash and insensitive with his friends, he made everything a joke because it was easier than- than admitting he was weak, or scared. He knew he wasn't… normal, in the ways that maybe he should be.

But he'd always believed, always hoped that maybe he'd still deserve someone good. Someone who would want him, someone who wouldn't take one look at him and sneer, and call him an asshole.

Richie curled up on his side and tried to stifle his sobs so that his parents wouldn't hear, wishing desperately for a second that he'd asked Eddie to stay over, or Stan, or any of the others, just so he had someone to tell him they thought his soulmate couldn't possibly hate him at first sight.

Maybe he should be glad he hadn't, though. The tears continued to soak into his pillow as he stared at the horrible, horrible words on his wrist and worried about this stranger he was promised to, this stranger he'd meet one day who wouldn't want him.

More than that, though he was trying hard not to acknowledge it, he felt utterly disappointed. He'd done his best, over the years, not to hope. Not to wish, knowing it was probably just a dumb crush he'd get over eventually. The kid wasn't even gay. But it lay there, in Richie's heart, anyway. He wondered how long it would take for him to stop feeling it, stop wishing it was Eddie instead.

He hoped he wasn't going to feel like this forever. Especially when Eddie eventually got his soulmark and found his soulmate. He still wanted to be Eddie's best friend in the future, when they were old and married and hopefully far away from Derry.

~.~

"Are you listening, sweetheart?"

Richie blinked as he jumped, knee hitting the table, automatically covering his wrist with the fingers of his other hand without thought. His mother raised an amused eyebrow, but he could only swallow and look away.

"Yeah, I heard. I'll… go for a ride, or something."

Maggie smiled gently at him, leaning over his shoulder to kiss the mess of dark hair on his head.

"Cheer up, bub. You'll feel better once everybody gets here. From what I hear they've been planning it for a while."

Richie gave a half-hearted snort at her cryptic tone, but when his mom looked at him again he felt his mouth smile a little. The thought of the Losers Club did brighten his mood, especially that they'd been thinking about him. It made his insides warm pleasantly to think they cared enough to try and make his birthday special.

Excitement leaked into his chest for the first time since the horrible soulmark had showed up and ruined his day.

"I wonder if it'll be another spectacular Loser disaster." he joked, grinning properly, laughing when she pretended to look scolding.

"I don't know about disaster, but spectacular seems possible." she chuckled to herself as she handed him a spoon to encourage him to finally start eating his cereal, "The way Eddie talks about it makes me think it'll be executed with military precision."

She snapped her arms to her sides as though marching, and offered Richie a salute. He sniggered around a mouthful of soggy cheerios. It was kinda weird to think of his friends talking to his parents behind his back all this time, almost as weird as it was to know he'd taken so long to find out. Sneaky fuckers.

"Eddie's in charge of it?"

He didn't know why the thought surprised him, Eddie was the natural choice for micro-managing any kind of plan. But it made his heart flutter a little bit to think that his crush was the one making all the decisions about the secret party he wasn't meant to know about. His mother gave him a wry, knowing smile, and he swallowed theatrically to hide the way he could feel his neck heating up. Was she the one teaching Stan that annoying, embarrassing expression, or had Stan somehow taught her it? It was uncanny.

"Obviously." she answered, as though it were a stupid question.

Which, he supposed, it was. His heart still tripped up on the next beat, and he nearly choked on his next spoonful of cereal.

"Cool."

His mom's laugh was embarrassing, and he raced to finish his breakfast and escape before she could say anything about the red in his face. He was avoiding that conversation, thank you very much. While he'd always been teased by them about his friendship with Eddie, the fondness he had for him, the extremes they said he went to to get his attention, he was very much not ready to really test their love for him by admitting he was. Well. That he was gay. He forced himself to think the word, cringing without thinking.

"I'm sure it'll be fine." she said, softly, mistaking his reasons for the expression, "You know Eddie. He'll have it all worked out."

Richie rolled his eyes and smiled, feeling how sappy it was on his face but not able to change it as he pushed the empty bowl away.

"The Spaghetti Man strikes again." he laughed, "I can already hear the screaming."

Maggie laughed and collected the bowl, ruffling his hair as he stood up.

"You wait. I bet he makes sure everything is great."

Richie made sure she saw his exaggerated eye-roll before he made his way out to the yard for his bike, but inside he was kind of gooey. Eddie would do everything in his power to make sure everything was great. They never talked about like, feelings and shit, but he knew Eddie would. He drove Eddie crazy, that was his job, but he'd never been left to question whether Eddie considered him his best friend as much as Richie did him. They just had their own ways of showing it, he supposed.

He thought about Eddie as he rode away from the house, knowing he probably shouldn't, because now he had an actual indication of his future soulmate, but the image of his best friend cheered him considerably. He grinned to himself, flying down the road towards the Clubhouse like the devil was after him, Eddie all cute and yelling at him in his head about whatever his imagined self had teased him with.

~.~