Quick Side Notes: I AM SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK THREE WEEKS TO WRITE I REALLY TRIED MY BEST TO WRITE BUT I DIDN’T HAVE TIME I REALLY HOPE THIS MAKES IT UP TO YOU
Also I have other concepts for a soulmate au! Let me know what you guys’ think? :)
Ships: Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly,
Warnings: Swearing, my awful writing
It happens at the most inconvenient, but oddly, the most convent times. It doesn’t matter if you just met your soulmate or have known them since you were in diapers, when the time is perfect, your skin is engraved with two symbols; One to represent you, the other to represent your soulmate.
“Happy birthday big Bill!” A rather obnoxious but familiar voice boomed through my room causing me to wake up. Not too long after the loud voice screamed in my ear, I was bombarded with silly string, air horns, and a weight sat on top of me.
“Beep fucking beep Richard” I muttered trying to close my eyes to continue sleeping.
“I think the fuck not Billiam, get your ass up kind fellow! I do believe lady Marsh has gathered our fellow mates for a lovely all day celebration!” Richie threw on his oh-so famous British accent and dragged me out of the comfort of my own bed and onto the floor.
I sighed as Richie ran off to the kitchen to where my younger brother Georgie was most likely at. Having the trashmouth live with me was both a blessing and a curse.
Blessing, because it meant he was free from the disgrace he used to call parents; curse, because it meant I had deal with that every day. I can’t complain, he’s my best friend, I would take a bullet for the fucker if it meant I got to keep him around.
Forty five minutes later, the lanky curly haired boy was shoving me out the door and down the street to the usual meet up spot - a café on the corner of 3rd and main street. As he eagerly dragged me down to the café, I saw his tattoo peaking out of the corner of his sleeve, a flower and a guitar. The flower representing Eddie Kaspbrak himself. The guitar representing the trashmouth.
It was funny actually when we all discovered that the flower represented the hypochondriac, all the losers - including myself - all knew that Eddie and Richie were meant to be since the day they met. I had an ongoing bet with Mike that Eddie’s symbol would be an inhaler, his money was on something aesthetically pleasing the day Eddie switched his fanny packs for flower crowns. So, the day Eddie Kaspbrak turned up to the quarry with two tattoos, Richie Tozier almost threw himself into the water after finding out he had matching soulmate tattoos with the boy he’s been in love with since the second grade. Sad to say, the rest of the losers club were either robbed of twenty dollars or gained twenty dollars. Who knew that the others had secret gambling deals. Stan being the mastermind that he is, managed to make a deal with my younger brother
Needless to say, I was forty dollars broke and Mike Hanlon and Stanley Uris were both twenty dollars richer. (Georgie almost didn’t see the light of day after he asked me for twenty dollars).
The guitar represented Richie in more ways than a few. For the loud mouth that he is, he actually can sing. The boy is extremely talented, it was only a few months ago that we discovered that he’s been playing the guitar and singing since he was six. As someone who has known the kid since I was four years old, I always distinctively knew that music was his escape from reality. He and I know each other probably better than anyone else in the group. Despite starting the losers club as the “core four” and somehow along the way Ben, Beverly, and Mike managed to wedge their way in, Richie and I always managed to have a special bond.
“Land ho! I do believe I see our good friends awaiting our arrival good sir!” Richie stopped in front of the cafe’s big window and pointed to our friends sitting at our usual table. Bev noticed us right away and waved excitedly. I smiled back and entered the café.
“Happy birthday Bill!” All the losers simultaneously cheered. The other usuals at the café continued the happy birthdays and the waiters and waitresses brought out an ice cream cake singing their own version of the birthday song. I was smiling so much I was beginning to feel my cheeks hurt. I said my thank yous and blew out the one and eight neatly placed in the center of the cake.
“I can’t believe our leader is officially eighteen! I remember when we threw him into the quarry for his fourteenth birthday!” Ben fake cried.
“He’s eighteen not eighty one dumbass” Stan rolled eyes but still let the smile spread across his face.
“Welcome to the eighteen club” Mike patted my back. He had just turn eighteen a few months prior along with Stan and Richie.
“Haystack has a point actually” Richie chimed in, “I mean, that’s shit is crazier than the times I’ve fucked Eddie’s mom-”
“Beep beep Richie” We all groaned, he gave us a sheepish smile but continued, “I mean we’re all going to college soon, as in next week soon, thank God we’re all near each other though, honestly full offense but I’d be in jail if you guys weren’t my friends.” Richie shook his head while Eddie took his hand and placed it into his. “We know love.” Eddie sighed causing Richie to blush at the nickname.
Of course he wouldn’t admit to it though.
“Look on the Brightside Tozier. half of us will be at USC while the other half” Mike jokingly narrowed his eyes at Eddie, Stan, and Ben, “At UCLA. I don’t care how long we’ve been friends, I can’t believe I’m going to be friends with the enemy.” He shuddered causing everyone to laugh.
“Who knows Hanlon, maybe your soulmate goes to UCLA. Maybe your egotistical ass will shut the fuck up.” Stan rose an eyebrow and smirked. I scoffed and smiled at Stan.
Something about Stan always left a funny feeling in my tummy. Sure, at one point I thought Bev was my soulmate. It really was just a silly middle school crush. Besides, the small ball and needle tattoo placed on her shoulder that represented her love for fashion and Ben’s small open book tattoo perfectly placed on his ribcage that represented his love for poetry were oddly perfect for each other.
Nonetheless, it was something about the way his hair was perfectly but messily curly, or the way he always had to grab my hand and pull my hand towards a bird he saw. Whether he means it in a friendly way or more than friendly way, it always left a special feeling in my heart whenever he touched my hand. Every time our fingers do the slightest brush against each other, I always check my body, impatiently waiting for the tattoo appear. Hell, even Georgie has a tattoo. a small paper boat aligning itself with a paper airplane on the side of his right hand where his thumb is at- He’s eleven for fucks sake. Nothing ever shows up.
“I think it’s time to open presents!” Bev cheered taking me out of my thoughts.
“Me first!” Richie screeched pushing Ben out of the way.
“Richie say s-sorry to Ben!” I laughed trying to maintain a motherly tone. It something I did whenever the group referred to me as the ‘leader’ of the losers club- they did refer to me as the leader not too long ago after all. My stutter on the other hand has gotten significantly better throughout the years despite my troubles with a couple of words.
“Sorry Ben-” Richie began
“It’s okay Rich”
“For kissing your mo-”
“Richie!” Bev and Eddie shouted.
“You’re right. Eds is the only person who gets to taste these delicious lips!” The now contact wearing boy made kissy lips to the slightly shorter boy.
“Guys! I wanna see what Bill got!” Stan shouted over the two arguing boys. Stan gave me a soft smile making tummy feel fuzzy and my heart pound just a little faster. I felt a weird feeling in my arm but ignored it as I opened Richie’s gift.
A small photobook. Polaroids from when we were four till now.
“Don’t read the card yet yeah? I want that to be personal.” He shrugged and smiled. I returned the smile, both of us clearly holding back tears. I hugged him for a little longer than usual but I couldn’t help but feel eyes burning in the back of my head. More specifically, eyes coming from Stan’s direction. I pulled back from Richie and looked at Stan who immediately changed his face from jealously to happy.
He couldn’t be jealous, could he?
Slowly one by one I opened each of the losers presents. Bev got me art supplies, Mike got me a new baseball hat and mitt, Ben got me a journal of prompts and a sketchbook, and Eddie got me tickets–well technically all of us tickets but he claimed I can choose whoever I wanted to take as if I knew another six people in California– to go to my first Dodger game. It didn’t take me long to figure out that only one person didn’t gift me anything. I didn’t expect presents but it was odd to not receive anything from all the losers.
We all looked at Stan who had a shy smile on his face, “Um, I figured it would be best to give you your present at a specific place.” Placing emphasis on the specific.
“Woah Stan the man! Making moves on Big Bill? You gotta talk to me first!” Richie began putting on some sort of deep accent.
“Not like that.” He muttered twiddling at his fingers.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and smiled at him, “Let’s go then!” He returned the smile and motioned for everybody to follow him. We all followed him down a familiar path, a path we all know too well. It was the trail to the quarry.
“Stan?” I questioned but abruptly stopped in my tracks when I saw the quarry decorated with lights, a campfire, a small table filled with junk food, but my attention was caught on my famous bike, Silver.
“Silver! How’d you find it? I thought it was for sure gone after-”
“After Bowers threw it into the barrens and we couldn’t find it because of the rain and sewers. Yeah, I know. I managed to find it in some junkyard. I got it before some dude in a shit stained hat got it.” He shrugged but was clearly trying to hide his unnecessary embarrassment. He continued, “I figured that you’re gonna need to get to your classes somehow and you guys are only gonna have one car for a while. So I just-”
“Thank you.” I could have kissed him, risked everything and kissed him. Instead, I hugged him. The feeling once again coming back. Another weird sensation in my arm but ignored it when a voice shouted behind us, “Happy Birthday Billy!-Oh am I late?” Georgie blew a party popper but stopped when he saw all the losers. We all laughed and for one final time before Mike, Richie, Bev, and I set out for California before the other losers tomorrow, we all jumped into the quarry. We played chicken fights, marco polo, becoming the kids we once were. Stan and I always partnered up. Making eye contact and smiling at each other.
The night was slowly coming to an end, each loser slowly leaving one by one. Giving one final goodbye and some tears. Georgie crying each time a loser said goodbye, it was honestly heartbreaking. The tears clearly wore him out when he slowly fell asleep with his head on my lap, “I’ll take him home? We’ll meet you back there.” Richie softly suggested. I nodded as he scooped Georgie in his arms and walked away with Eddie.
This only left me and Stan.
We stood in comfortable silence. It wasn’t broken until an owl was heard somewhere, I peaked over at Stan who was excitedly trying to find the bird and grabbing my hand. I laughed and helped him find the bird. We didn’t give up until we reached another familiar spot, the old losers clubhouse.
“We haven’t been here since-”
“Since we were fourteen.” Stan laughed softly.
“Wanna go inside?” I suggested.
Stan was already making his way in but being careful with the old wood. He shooed away any bugs he saw as I turned on the flashlight on my phone. Looking around, I found an old vinyl we used to use back when we were younger, “Think it still works?” I turned over to Stan after I dusted it off.
“Isn’t it battery operated? I think there’s some batteries back in Georgie’s walkie talkie at the quarry?”
“With what vinyl? Dumbass.” Stan raised an eyebrow and laughed.
I looked around and conveniently enough, The Smiths 1981 record, Louder Than Bombs, was perched on an old shelf. I grabbed it along with the vinyl player and Stan’s hand, making my way back to the quarry. The way our fingers laced together, intertwining perfectly like a puzzle, it just seemed right. After what felt like a lifetime, we managed to make it back to our destination and fix the vinyl. I got it to work on the first try instantly placing the stick onto the vinyl.
Good times for a change / See, the luck I’ve had
“Mr. Stanley Uris, I do believe I should have this dance” I tried my best to impersonate a British accent, restarting the song because the song was too short. I wanted to hold him for as long as I can. Stan only smiled and pulled me under the fairy lights he set up.
So please please please / let me, let me, let me / let me get what I want
We were interrupted by the owl we heard only a while ago. I noticed Stan grin become wide when he motioned over behind me. I whipped around, the owl perched on a branch. I only shook my head and stared at Stan.
“Can I see your arm?” I asked.
“Excuse me?” He laughed.
Haven’t had a dream in a long time / See, the life I had / Can make a good man bad
I picked up his arm without questioned and rolled up the sleeve. an owl tattoo placed on the side of where his fore arm was slightly under where the elbow area was. It was neatly placed next to tattoo of ink and quill. I picked up my sleeve and held out my arm towards him.
The same owl and the same ink and quill placed on the exact same spot on my arm.
So for once in my life / Let me get what I want / Lord knows, it would be the first time
He only pulled my hand back towards the spot where we were dancing. Our foreheads touched each other. Hands wrapped around each others waist. The owl still hoo’d, the vinyl record occasionally scratched due to its old age, but a pair of soft lips met mine. I felt myself kissing back.
“You leave for California tomorrow.” He whispered.
“You leave on Tuesday.”
“But we’re both road tripping. You get there Tuesday, I get there Thursday.”
“See you Thursday?”
“See you Thursday.”
We held onto each other just a little closer.