richie didn't move from his bed, hitting the snooze button on the alarm with a groan. there was no way he would be going to school. heartbreak, a wicked hangover, and school were a dangerous combination.

his parents were m.i.a. again, so he had the house to himself - and luckily, his dad never paid much attention to his alcohol stash. the bastard wouldn't notice that an entire bottle of vodka had gone missing.

that, or he just didn't care.

richie cradled his head in his hands, the pounding headache only amplifying the pain he had been trying to forget. it fucking hurt, it did, and he hated himself for what he had done.

in the end, though, he had saved himself so much pain. he'd end up falling head over heels for his nest friend and then he'd go and fuck it up just like always. except this time, he'd be losing the love of his life and his best friend, all in one package.

he doubted stan would forgive him, but at least this way, he hadn't let them fall in love. he'd spared them both so much pain.

a sudden, violent knocking sounded at the door, and richie buried his head under his pillow. maybe if he waited long enough, whoever it was would go away. the noise stopped for a moment, and he thought that maybe he'd won.

the sound of pebbles striking his window caused him to throw his pillow in frustration. he stood up and marched angrily to the window, running a hand through his messy curls. he thrust open the window and glared out at the person standing there.

"the fuck do you want, bev? shouldn't you be in school?"

she crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "i could ask you the same question, rich. now move over, i'm coming in."

the screen that should've been covering the window was already tossed carelessly to the ground, evidence of the many, many times richie had used the opening as a means to sneak out.

he stood there stubbornly, and bev rolled her eyes, merely pushing past him as she climbed through the window.

"rich, you smell like vodka."

he threw his arms in the air, clearly angry. "you think i hadn't noticed? there's a jackhammer in my skull, too, so if you could kindly shut up, it would be appreciated."

bev rolled her eyes again. "are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on or not?"

"i told stan we wouldn't work out, okay? i broke it off. and it fucking hurts." richie sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. "it hurts like fucking hell, bev." he looked up at her, his eyes brimming with tears. "what do i do?"

she sat on the bed beside him, pulling him into a tight hug and letting him rest his head on her shoulder. "why," she said, after a moment. it was more of a statement than a question, and richie knew what it meant.

"i dunno, bev. he's my best friend. he was my best friend. i don't want to end up hurting him. this way, i don't fuck it up later and hurt him even more, you know?"

bev pulled away from him, looking him dead in the eyes. "richie tozier, you're an idiot. he loves you. nothing you could've done would have hurt him more than what you did. and not wanting to hurt him? pretty sure you love him too, believe it or not."

"fuck off, bev."

"you have to fix this."

"i know."

she shook her head, standing up once more. "i'm going to school. i'll be in time to make second period. if you haven't talked to him by the time i get here, i'll march you over there myself." she paused, halfway out the window before she spoke again. "he's at his house, by the way. something about being sick."

richie put on a confident grin, though it was easy to see just how strained it was. "bye, bev," he called, closing the window behind her.

he pulled a shirt on and slid his feet into a pair of sandals, deciding he wanted to fix things sooner, rather than later, meaning he had no time to make himself look presentable. he ran a hand through his hair, grabbed his keys, and was in the car within a minute or two.

he kept the radio off the entire drive there, concentrating on the road and on what he would say to stan. he knew nothing could make things right, at least not immediately, but he had to find some way to explain it all to stan.

richie took slow, careful steps up to the entryway, his nerves hitting him in waves as he walked. he had barely raised a hand to the door when it swung open, stan glowering at him from a few paces away.

richie froze. god, stan looked beautiful, even in this disheveled, sleepy state. his golden curls were a mess on his head and he rubbed one eye with the palm of his hand and his eyes were puffy and had dark rings around them. fuck, had he caused that? had he made stan cry?

in the entire time richie had known him, stan had cried a total of three times (that he knew of). the first was on his tenth birthday, when he'd fallen off of richie's skateboard and tumbled headfirst into a tree. he'd needed stitches and his arm was in a cast for weeks afterwards. the second time was when they were fourteen and their first ever midterms were coming up and stan had stressed himself out to the point of a panic attack. the third time was when they were fifteen and richie had finally had the courage to tell stan what his father did to him. they'd laid there and cried together, stan holding richie tightly in his arms and whispering that everything would be okay.

"what do you want."

stan's voice was low, and angry. maybe that's why the crack in the middle and the waver in resolve on his face hurt richie so much.

richie smiled hopefully. "can i come in?"

"no," stan murmured, moving to close the door.

"i deserved that. stan, please," he whispered, grabbing the door frame so that it was impossible for stan to shut it.

stan glared at him, crossing his arms but staying silent.

"stan, i'm so sorry... i know that's not enough but i owe you an apology. i was an idiot, and a jerk, and i let my fear of hurting you take control. truth is, i was afraid. i've always had commitment issues - you know that. i was afraid i'd ruin things. i was afraid i'd hurt you, and so i thought it would be best to stay away. that way, i couldn't hurt you." he paused, lifting his gaze to look at stan. "i hurt you already by leaving. i'm here to make it better. stan, i - i love you." there were tears in his eyes now, and he turned away from stan to wipe them off his cheeks.

"richie -"

"you don't have to forgive me, stan. i just needed to tell you."

stan pulled richie into a hug, sniffling gently into his shoulder.

"i don't forgive you. not yet. but you're my best friend, richie, and i love you too, much as it hurts me. i think if we work on this, we can get there."

richie smiled into stan's shoulder, shaking with sobs. he took a step back, still holding him, but just far enough that he could look him in the eyes. "will you be my boyfriend, staniel?"

"yes, 'chee. i'll be your boyfriend."

they smiled at each other, and hugged again, before heading inside for a cup of coffee. everything would be alright, it seemed.