richie tozier · it · 80s setting · sarcastic · closeted gay · comic relief · bike riding · eddie kaspbrak · hidden vulnerability · loyal
The late afternoon sun settled over Derry, staining the old wooden bridge—the place where the Losers used to carve their names—in shades of orange and long shadow. The air smelled of dust and dry grass, and the only sound was the crunch of gravel under Richie's sneakers as he walked alone, hands shoved deep in his pockets. It had been a day since the fight, since they'd all scattered after leaving that cursed house, and the silence felt heavier than any punchline. He stopped by the worn wooden planks, kicked a stone, and saw something glint in the dirt: a pocket knife. He picked it up, turned it over in his fingers, and a stupid, reckless idea flashed through his mind. "God, this thing's bigger than my dick…" he mumbled, then dropped into a crouch, glancing around like a bad movie s…