Eddie Kaspbrak took a puff of his inhaler, wishing that simple act would be enough to quell his racing heart. He kept glancing down at his left wrist, and each time he did, he could feel his anxiety beginning to act up again. But every time he got himself to calm down again, he would look down and see that fucking timer again, and then he was right back at square one.

"Calm down, Eddie. Don't give yourself a panic attack," Stan Uris said for what sounded like the tenth time. Stan had no room to talk; he was just as wound as Eddie, and no matter how many times he tried to deny it, Eddie had caught him glancing at the timer on is own wrist periodically all morning.

Both of them were waiting for the same, fated moment: when their timers would go off, and their soulmates.

The idea of a soulmate had Eddie pulling out his inhaler again. This whole ordeal was too fucking inconvenient for him. He was just starting college. He didn't need this now! Why couldn't he have met his soulmate at a less stressful time in his life?

Part of Eddie almost wished that Stan was his soulmate, but there was no hope there. Stan and Eddie's timers were five seconds apart. Five, measly seconds, but that made all the difference. Plus, he'd known Stan for years. If his timer was going to go off for him, then it would have done so already.

"Three minutes," Eddie rasped, taking another puff. "Less than three minutes, and we're meeting the one. I'm gonna be fucking sick. This is bullshit."

"Cool it, Eddie. You're just making it worse." Stan grimaced and tugged his sleeve over the timer. "You're better off not paying attention. You'll just get stressed out more."

"Me? Stressed?" Eddie choked through a laugh and was about to take another puff off his inhaler when Stan's hand grabbed his wrist. He raised an eyebrow, and Eddie hated to admit that he could see his point.

"Sorry, Stan. This whole soulmate thing is just a pain in the ass. What if I don't even like them?"

"They're your soulmate. Isn't is basically a guarantee that you'll get along?" Stan said all of this with the air of somebody who didn't believe it either, but he'd heard it so many times that repeating it was instinctive. Eddie felt so much better.

What if they didn't even like him? Eddie wasn't exactly what one might call a catch. He was so small, for one. Hell, he couldn't even get into an R-rated movie without an ID, he was so fucking short.

Then there was the thing about his mother. Sonia Kaspbrak had been so overbearing about his health that even the smallest cough could send his heart into a frenzy, and he'd be scrambling for his inhaler.

So that made him a short, gay hypochondriac.

A sudden thought occurred to him, and he hurriedly took another puff from his inhaler. What if his soulmate was a girl? Would fate be that cruel to him?

Eddie's feet stopped against the pavement. "I can't do this. I'm not going to do this. I refuse! This stupid timer can't decide who I'm going to be with for the rest of my life!"

"Eddie, calm down." Stan was starting to get irritated. Maybe it was a good thing they weren't soulmates. They would never get along, at least not for long periods of time. "This isn't something you can just deny. You're going to meet them."

"This isn't something I can deal with, Stan! I'm not going to! I'm going to turn around, walk straight back to our dorm, and-" Eddie turned to dart around the corner, prepared to stay in his room for the rest of the day.

"Hey, watch it!"

Next thing Eddie knew, his favorite pink polo was covered in the remnants of an iced frappuccino and whipped cream. He hissed a curse and wiped at the spilled drink. As if today couldn't get any worse! Now he was sticky, cold, and looked like a complete idiot to meet his-

Soulmate.

Eddie's eyes lifted to the two boys standing in front of him, and he felt his timer go off. He didn't hear any noise, at least not externally. He heard it in his head, a nagging little chime that said, There he is!

Only, there were two of them, and Eddie had no clue which was which. One was tall and gangly, with dark curls and thick, coke-bottle glasses. He'd been the one holding the drink that Eddie was now, unfortunately, covered in. For a moment, he looked apologetic. Then, he gave Eddie a once-over and grinned.

"Hey, would you look at that! My drink looks even better on you, toots!"

"Fuck off," Eddie grumbled, taking off his jacket so he could finish wiping his shirt. "Were you even watching where you were going?"

"Technically, you ran into us, cutie," he argued with a nonchalant shrug. "I'll let it slide if you let me buy you a coffee."

"Are you kidding me?" Eddie's voice rose an octave; he could already feel his asthma acting up.

"C-c-cut it out, Ruh-Richie," said the other boy, and Eddie looked at him for the first time. He was… pretty attractive. If Eddie had a type, it was probably this guy, with nice, auburn hair, blue eyes, and charisma practically rolling off of him.

Despite all that, Eddie found his eyes drawn back to this Richie, but he was pretty sure that was pure annoyance. He was still wearing that grin, and he hadn't taken his eyes off of Eddie.

"A-are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Eddie muttered severely, and then softer, "Thanks."

"S-sorry about that. We w-w-eren't paying a-a-attention." He held out his hand for Eddie and then Stan. "I'm B-B-Bill, and this is Ruh-Richie."

"The pleasure's all mine." Richie winked at Eddie, who rolled his eyes and looked back to Bill.

"I'm Eddie. This is Stan." Eddie nodded his head toward Stan, and only then did he realize how pale his friend had grown. He kept staring between the two boys in front of him and then glancing at his wrist.

Which made Eddie look down at his own wrist, too. Shit. Shit.

"Shit!" he said aloud, backing up a few steps. He could feel his breath picking up again, and he fumbled for his inhaler. He couldn't believe it. He'd been so caught up worrying about the coffee all over him that he'd forgotten his timer had gone off.

"Hey, Eds, you okay?" Richie actually sounded remotely concerned. He took a step closer, but Eddie brought his advance to a stop with a single glare.

"Don't call me that." Eddie shoved his inhaler away and took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to speak, but the moment he tried to find words, his throat began to close up again. His mouth found the aspirator again, and Stan took it upon himself to clarify.

"You two. Did your timers run out? Because ours just did."

"Buh-buh-both of you?" Eddie saw the way Bill looked at Stan and how Stan's cheeks reddened under the attention, and he wished he could unsee it. They couldn't even be sure which was which, and they were already making googly eyes at each other!

"Ours were five seconds apart. Whose timer went off first?" he asked, a little bit more demanding than need be. He couldn't help it; he wanted clarification, and he wanted it immediately.

"It's obvious, ain't it, Eds? It's you and me, and Big Bill and Stan the Man here. We're a match made in heaven!" Richie tried to insist, grinning from ear to ear.

Eddie wasn't having that. "Stop calling me that. And how can you be sure? Did your timer go off before Bill's?"

A strange expression flickered through Richie's bug eyes, but it was gone before Eddie could decipher what it might have been. All at once, he felt guilty. He hadn't meant for it to sound like he didn't want Richie as a soulmate. What he wanted was certainty. Soulmates were a big deal, and he didn't want to end up with the wrong one because nobody was paying attention at the right time. He took a deep breath.

"What if you're wrong, though? That's not fair to any of us if we pair up with the wrong person," Eddie reasoned, relieved when he saw Richie nod in agreement. The kicked puppy dog look never worked on Eddie, but damn, Richie was pretty fucking good at it. That should've been his first sign that Richie had been right all along.

"I don't know whose was going off first," Richie admitted with a clueless glance at Bill. "We just knew ours were going off around the same time today."

"So neither of you have any idea?" Stan repeated with a shake of his head. "How are we supposed to figure it out then? That's the whole point of the timers."

"Muh-muh-maybe we should juh-just play it by ear? W-we go on a few duh-dates and s-see who we're most com-com-patible with? Sh-shouldn't be tuh-too hard," Bill suggested thoughtfully.

Eddie bit his lip, considering that. What if Bill was wrong, though? Just because somebody was a person's soulmate didn't mean they would be compatible. He'd seen some couples who didn't even get along but still stayed together because 'fate demanded it.'

"Or we could all just make out?" Richie suggested with a casual shrug that didn't match his tone. His eyes, filled with a strange kind of determination, settled on Eddie, who couldn't help but feel like Richie had already decided who his soulmate was gonna be. "See whose tongue we're more compatible with? Your mom can go first."

"Buh-beep beep, Trashmouth," Bill warned. When Stan and Eddie exchanged puzzled looks, he added, "That's what we say when Richie goes too far."

"Sounds like he needs to hear it," Eddie muttered.

"Aw, Eds, you're lucky you're so cute!" Richie suddenly slung an arm over Eddie's shoulder with one hand and began to pinch his cheeks with the other. "Cute cute cute!"

"You asshole! Get your fucking hands off me! I don't know where those have been!"

"Just all over your mom. Nothing to worry about! Oh, and down my pants, but that's-"

"Disgusting! That's fucking gross! Let me go!"

That was the day that Eddie Kaspbrak met his soulmate. Problem was, he had no fucking clue which one it was, and he really couldn't decide which one he wished it was. Bill was handsome, charismatic, and fun to be around.; Eddie didn't even mind the stutter. Richie was just… Richie. Eddie couldn't figure out how else to describe the literal torpedo of a man. He was too tall and thought he was too damn funny and had too much damn energy, and Eddie couldn't believe how much he was warming up to the idiot.

They went through with Bill's plan to go on a few dates and see how things went. Stan went with Richie first, and Eddie could tell right off the bat that he didn't want to. He'd been given full control over where they went and what they did, and Eddie felt a pang of pity when he saw Stan pick up his bird-watching guide.

"Really, Stan? On the first date?"

Stan shrugged, an almost devious grin curling his lips. "Hey, if he can't handle me bird-watching, then there's no way he's my soulmate. I just thought we would settle this the easy way."

Eddie tapped his pencil on the edge of his desk. "You're really hoping for Bill, aren't you?"

"Aren't you?" Stan replied without hesitation. When Eddie didn't say anything, Stan gave him a knowing look and left the dorm for his date. What the hell was that all about?

Eddie locked up soon after, out on his way to meet up with Bill. They'd agreed on a coffee date, nothing too romantic or fancy. Eddie wasn't about to complain; he didn't want there to be any expectations between them, not when they still weren't sure. As much as he wanted to kick and fight the whole soulmate thing, there were still some things he only wanted to do with the person meant for him.

Like kiss. It sounded like such a girly thing, but he wanted his first kiss to be with his soulmate.

Bill understood that, the moment Eddie explained it to him like some disclaimer on a bottle of meds. "Shu-shu-sure. We'll keep it pla-platonic for now."

"Thanks, Bill. I appreciate it," Eddie murmured, a little anxious about being there alone with Bill. The weight of his inhaler felt reassuring in his pocket.

The two of them grabbed a table by the window and settled in for a nice, quiet date. Eddie learned that Bill was an amazing storyteller, and he noticed that when he was tangled up in one of his stories, Bill didn't stutter at all. Eddie could have listened to him tell stories forever.

He barely noticed that several hours had passed until he went to take a drink of his cappuccino and discovered it had gone cold. He made a face, setting it back down, and Bill laughed. That was a pleasant sound. He could get used to Bill laughing.

Then he thought of Richie laughing, and heat began to pool in his cheeks. He had to stop. What was the point of getting his hopes up about either of them, only to find out that the other was his actual soulmate? That would just be too cruel. For the moment, he had to keep things strictly platonic between all of them. He only hoped Stan was on the same page.

"S-sorry, I'm puh-probably boring you." Bill rubbed the back of his neck, a little apologetic.

"No, your stories are amazing! Really, you should write some of these down and try to publish. I just know you'd be successful," Eddie told him honestly, and it was worth it to see the smile it put on Bill's face. Even if he wasn't Eddie's soulmate, he thought the two of them would be good friends regardless.

By the time Eddie got back to the dorm room, Stan was already there, his nose buried in his History report. He barely glanced up while Eddie kicked his shoes off, and it wasn't until Eddie sagged into his own desk chair that Stan turned around and fixed him with a firm look. Eddie didn't think it went very well with Richie.

"How was your date with Bill?" he asked, carefully impassive.

"Not bad. We had coffee, and he told stories. He's a great storyteller. What about you and Richie?"

Stan pursed his lips and looked away. "He was a gentleman, except for all of his stupid mom jokes. He listened to everything I had to tell him about bird watching, didn't complain too much, and even bought me lunch. And then…."

"And then?" Eddie raised an eyebrow, all but hanging on on Stan's next words. His mind could only jump to the worst possible conclusion: they had kissed. Richie had kissed Stan, and they were definitely soulmates, and Eddie didn't even get a chance to find out if he and Richie were soulmates because they'd already decided for him, and-

"Aspirator, Kaspbrak," Stan warned, and Eddie fumbled for his inhaler. He waited until Eddie had calmed down before he continued. "And then he said that he hopes we're not soulmates."

"He… he said… why would he say that?" Eddie's heart hammered, and he quickly took another puff before he got out of control again.

Stan shrugged a little as he turned around in his chair, now struggling to keep from smiling. "Oh, I have no idea. It's definitely not because he has it in his head that somebody else is his soulmate."

"That's-that's not fair to you, though! What an fucking asshole!" Eddie tossed his inhaler onto his desk to cover the fluttering in his chest.

"I didn't take it personally." Stan looked Eddie over, not buying the act for a minute. "I told him I hope he's not my soulmate, too"

"What?" Eddie couldn't believe what he was hearing. He rolled his eyes and stood up to pace, needing to expel some of his energy. "How could the two of you act like this? What about Bill and me? Are we the only ones taking this shit seriously?"

"Would you calm down already? It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?!"

"Your voice is doing that high-pitched thing again."

"I know it is!" Eddie sat back down again, huffing, and began to fiddle with his aspirator. He wanted to stay mad at them, he really did, but his mind kept flashing back to that look Richie had been giving him. So determined, so sure…. Eddie shook his head.

No. It just wasn't enough for him. He wanted certainty. He wanted to be positive. What was the point if they weren't sure who belonged together?

He would know tomorrow. That was when he and Richie had their date, and Stan and Bill were having theirs.

He'd gotten a text earlier that morning to let him know that Richie would be planning everything and not to worry, which only made Eddie worry more. Eddie liked being in control. He liked knowing what was about to happen, and Richie was a wild, unpredictable force in his life that he didn't know how to anticipate.

Eddie made sure to take his aspirator.

He followed Richie's instructions to meet him at the cafe in town, but not to go in. Probably because Bill took his 'coffee date' idea. Eddie grinned a little; he didn't imagine Richie was very happy about that.

"Eddie Spaghetti!" An arm appeared around his shoulder and tugged him flush against a tall body.

"Ugh! Did you have to use so much cologne?" Eddie tried to squirm away, his cheeks red, but Richie's grip was strong, and he didn't hate that cologne as much as he pretended. "And what did you just call me?"

"My cute, little Eddie Spaghetti, of course! Mwah!" He placed a loud kiss on Eddie's cheek, and finally, Eddie managed to get away from him now.

"Okay, let's make some ground rules, okay? No PDA." Eddie held up both hands, as if that might keep Richie Tozier at bay. "Not until we have this soulmates thing sorted out."

Richie stared, his lips pressed into a tight, frustrated line. Then his eyes widened, and he smirked. "I went to second base with Stan yesterday."

"No you fucking didn't! Stan doesn't do second base on a first date!" Eddie argued immediately.

"Shit!" Richie kicked at the curb, disappointed. Then, pouting, he said, "Okay, but look!" and took one of Eddie's hands into his own. Their fingers slotted together perfectly, snugly, and Eddie sucked in a quick breath at the unimaginable warmth. Richie stepped closer, waiting with baited breath for Eddie's decision.

But Eddie couldn't make a decision. He couldn't think about anything except how nice it felt to have Richie hold his hand. He opened his mouth once to argue, say he didn't think this was a good idea, but the words never left him. Richie took this as a good sign and stepped even closer, his pout having turned into a grin.

"See? A little hand-holding won't do any harm. Your mom sure enjoyed it."

Eddie tried to pull his hand back. "Beep beep, Richie."

"Aw, come on! Don't beep me on this! Just hold my hand some, and I won't go through with my plan to stick my tongue down your throat while we're riding the Ferris Wheel," Richie promised, lip stuck out pleadingly.

"Ferris Wheel!?" Eddie repeated, horror piercing through his stomach. He barely noticed that Richie had started to pull him along the sidewalk. "I can't get on a Ferris Wheel! Where would you even find a Ferris Wheel?"

"At the carnival. The fliers are literally everywhere. How do you not know about this?" Richie asked conversationally.

"Carnival?! You want to go to the carnival? Don't you know what happens at carnivals!?"

"Don't worry, Eds. I won't let any creepy assholes mistake you for a child and try to kidnap you."

Eddie fixed him with a scathing look. "I'm not worried about being fucking abducted! Do you know how many diseases can originate from a carnival? Rides riddled with germs, food prepared with unsafe work practices, and-" He cut himself off, suddenly aware of how Richie was staring at him with that shit-eating grin still in place. "And I'm ruining this, aren't I?"

"Nah, you're cute when you rant about germs and shit, and that's something I never thought I would find attractive. So rides are off, the food is off-"

"Hey, you can put whatever you want into that trashmouth of yours." Eddie could feel his cheeks getting hot again. Richie thought he was attractive? When he ranted about germs? He must have been lying, trying to make Eddie feel better about the whole thing.

But when he examined Richie's expression for a hint of a lie, he found nothing of the sort. So far, Richie was being as unpredictable as Eddie had expected of him.

"Besides, I'm not kissing you, so it's not like it matters to me what you eat."

"What? I'm not even getting a goodnight kiss? This is fucking injustice, Eds. I'm heartbroken. Stan the Man gave me a smooch." Richie complained, offended, and Eddie had to roll his eyes at the same, underhanded trick.

"No, he fucking didn't."

"No! He fucking didn't!" Richie huffed, annoyed, and kicked at a passing rock. Shit! Eddie was just making everything worse. Richie probably didn't want to even be on this date anymore. If he didn't want Stan as a soulmate before, he probably did now.

He probably didn't want to hold hands anymore, either. Probably just kept it up to make Eddie feel better. Fuck! Eddie couldn't stand himself sometimes. He hated being the way he was, constantly anxious about germs and diseases. Just the way his mother had raised him.

He figured he should give Richie an out. Tell him that they didn't have to stay on the date if Richie would rather just call it quits.

Eddie went to pull his hand back; Richie held on tightly. "Eds, mah boy, I'm not done with that yet."

The tense atmosphere dissipated just like that, and Eddie relaxed back into the hand-holding. Not without a scoff first, though. "What kind of shit accent even is that?"

"What? Can't you tell?"

"Sounds like your regular shit voice to me." Eddie squeezed Richie's hand, suddenly aware of how much he wanted to do just that for the rest of his life.

The carnival wasn't even that bad, all things considered. Richie convinced him to ride the merry-go-round, and it wasn't entirely catastrophic. He'd settled on an unmoving lion, while Richie rode on a 'wild steed' that he pretended was trying to throw him. He tried to smooth talk Eddie onto the Ferris Wheel, but Eddie remained firm.

"Not on the first date," he teased, warily eyeing the intimidating contraption as he tugged Richie away. Thankfully, Richie followed without trouble, far too focused on Eddie's words to care about the carnival around them.

"So there's gonna be a second date?" Richie asked hopefully, one hand still wrapped around Eddie's and the other holding a caramel apple.

"If Bill doesn't turn out to be my soulmate, and Stan yours," Eddie conceded slowly.

"Uh. Yeah. There's always that." Richie's hand tightened around Eddie's, as if Eddie might try to run away if given the opportunity. Which was bullshit. Eddie liked spending time with Richie. It felt natural, the most natural thing he'd ever felt.

"Even if we're not soulmates… we could always hang out? I mean. Stan's my best friend, and Bill's yours, right? So we'll definitely still see each other," Eddie quickly added. He had to make sure that Richie understood that he still wanted to spend time with him, soulmate or not. He had more fun with Richie than he ever had in his entire life. Even if they weren't soulmates, he didn't want to lose that.

That should've been Eddie's second sign.

"Of course, Eddie Spaghetti! You're stuck with me now!" Richie wrapped his arm around Eddie's shoulders again, and he left a sticky kiss on the side of Eddie's temple.

"Didn't I tell you to stop doing that shit?!"

"I can't help myself, Eds! You're just so fucking adorable!" Richie tossed away the rest of his caramel apple and tugged Eddie to a stop. He turned, squinting around for something, and hummed thoughtfully to himself. This all seemed like a dangerous combination to Eddie.

"What is it?"

Richie grinned. "I'm gonna win you a huge ass teddy bear."

"No, you're not," Eddie disagreed firmly.

"Yeah, I am. Just try and stop me!" Richie let go of Eddie for the first time all night and began to saunter toward one of the various booths vying for his attention. Alarmed, Eddie chased after him, quickly running in front of him to place two hands on his chest. As expected, Richie stopped, grinning ear to ear because Eddie initiated contact for once.

"You really shouldn't. These games are all rigged! You'll just be wasting your money," he insisted.

"Listen, Eds, I am winning you a huge ass teddy bear, and nothin' you say is gonna talk me out of it. You might as well sit back, look cute, and watch a master at work. Oh, and try not to fall in love with me. I don't know how we'd break the news to your mom." With a wink, Richie sauntered around Eddie, who could only turn and watch helplessly as his date casually approached the softball game.

The object of the game? Use the softball to knock over three milk bottles, but Eddie knew better. He knew the softball was probably filled with cork to make it lighter, and the bottles on the bottom of the stack probably had lead in them to make them heavier. An impossible game to win. Richie might as well have picked the balloon dart toss with its dull darts and half-inflated balloons.

If Richie realized the odds weren't in his favor, he never showed it. He stepped up to the booth, a five-dollar bill in his hand, and handed it over. "Gimme your best balls, mah good sir!" he commanded in what was supposed to be another accent, but Eddie still couldn't hear a difference.

The carnie gave a look to Richie and then Eddie. He popped a bubble with his gum and then smiled sweetly. "First date, boys?"

"First time doing your job?" Richie fired back impatiently. Was pissing the guy off part of the plan? Because this seemed like a shitty plan!

The attendant's jaw tightened before he smiled again. He dropped three balls onto the stand and directed Richie to the stack of bottles on the left. Eddie didn't like this. He didn't like the look the carnie kept giving Richie, who remained blissfully oblivious to what was about to happen.

Richie threw the first ball. Eddie held his breath, not surprised when the ball bounced right off the milk bottles. He knew this was a bad idea. But Richie just turned, gave him a self-satisfied smirk, and picked up the next ball. He pulled his arm back, readying the throw, and-

"Ow! My arm!" Richie yelled suddenly. He dropped the ball and brought up his other hand to cradle his bicep. "Fuck! I think I pulled a fucking muscle!"

"Richie? Are you okay?" Eddie rushed forward, ready to inspect the arm in question, but Richie wouldn't stand still long enough for him to get close.

"I'll sue you! I'll sue the ass off this whole carnival!" Richie started rambling at the startled attendant. "My dad's a lawyer, and he'll take every last dime you've ever made at this shitty booth!"

"Hey, wait, I, uh…." The attendant looked around nervously; Richie was drawing attention to them.

"I could've been a professional softball player, asshole! I know how that ball's supposed to weigh! Fuck!" He squeezed his arm, still shrugging off a panicky Eddie. "You'll never be able to show your face in this town again!"

"Wait, wait, lower your voice! I-I'll-what do I have to do to make this go away?" the carnie pleaded desperately.

Richie took a deep, painful breath. "That huge ass teddy bear… Give it to me, and I'll walk away now."

Eddie couldn't believe what he was hearing. A teddy bear? All at once, he realized what was happening. His shook his head, amazed, and pulled out his inhaler to cover up a snort of laughter.

"Please, it's the only thing that will keep mah boy Eds here from ditching my ass after I've fucked up my arm like this!" Richie carried on dramatically, sniffling.

"Can't even throw a softball without embarrassing me. I can't believe this shit," Eddie added with a disappointed shake of his head. "I don't even know why the fuck I'm still with you!"

"Eds, please! I can change!" Richie begged, his 'uninjured' hand flying out to grasp Eddie's shirt. With a scoff, Eddie pushed him away and opened his mouth to fire back.

A teddy bear appeared in front of them, floppy and fluffy and really pink. The attendant looked fed up. "Just take the teddy bear and get out of here. I don't get paid enough for this shit."

"Thank you, my good sir!" With a flourish, Richie grabbed the bear and Eddie's hand and rushed them away before the carnie could change his mind.

The two of them ran, laughing, until the music from the carnival was naught but a dim noise in the night. They slowed to a walk, fingers still intertwined, and took their time getting back to the dorms. The air was nice, the autumn still warm enough that Eddie didn't get cold. In fact, he felt hot. His cheeks were flushed and stiff from smiling, and heart wouldn't stop racing.

He looked over at Richie, who looked like amazingly idiotic carrying that stupid pink bear. He couldn't figure out why Stan didn't want Richie as a soulmate. Sure, some of his jokes were an acquired taste, but he was still fun. And while Bill might have been more handsome, Richie wasn't bad to look at, either.

Plus, there was something about Richie that Eddie just couldn't put his finger on. He squinted in the dark at him, trying to figure it out. Before he could figure it out, Richie was talking again.

"So how bad's your asthma? Is that something I should be really concerned about or…?" Richie asked, breaking Eddie out of his thoughts.

Eddie looked down at the aspirator still in his hand and hastily pocketed it. "I don't actually have asthma. It's mostly in my head thanks to my mom. When I was a kid, she was kinda overbearing. She had me convinced that there was more wrong with me than there actually is."

He didn't know what he expected of Richie, but it definitely wasn't to feel him tighten his hold on Eddie's hand and say, "My parents ignored me. Too busy being fucking drunk to care about their kid. Wonder what's worse: caring too much or not caring at all?"

Eddie stared up at Richie in amazement. How anybody could ignore Richie was beyond him, and not just because he was so fucking loud most of the time. Eddie squeezed his hand; if they were soulmates, Eddie vowed that he would never let Richie feel like he was being ignored. And even if they weren't-

"You seem pretty healthy to me. Wait!" Richie pulled them to a stop and bent down to press his ear to Eddie's chest. Eddie felt his face heat up. "I dunno. Maybe some mouth-to-mouth would help."

"Richie-"

"No, listen, I asked your mom after I boned her last night, and she said-"

"Beep beep, Richie." Eddie punched him in the arm and shoved him away, his heart speeding up again. Every time Richie got too close, Eddie felt like he had to push him away. He almost didn't trust himself not to do anything that might cross that platonic line he'd been struggling to keep in place all night.

"Yeah, yeah, Eds. No smooches. You might've mentioned it." Richie took a deep breath, visibly frustrated, and Eddie felt a surge of guilt in his gut. It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss Richie; he actually wanted to do that so much, it felt almost like a physical need.

But no. Eddie Kaspbrak knew how many germs were in a person's mouth, and he would only swap spit with his fucking soulmate.

"Maybe I should just-"

"Hold on, Eds. Work with me here." Richie pulled him aside, and Eddie gave him the benefit of the doubt. He did worry a bit when Richie pulled them between two buildings, where not even the streetlights could illuminate them. Did Richie not know how many diseases could stew in an alleyway? And what if there was a-there was. A dumpster. Basically breeding grounds for all kinds of infections.

But then Richie pressed him against a brick wall, and Eddie forgot all about infections and germs. Richie dropped the bear and took off his glasses, and his eyes were so much more intense when they weren't amplified by his coke-bottle lenses. He took Eddie's face in his hands, and the smaller boy began to panic.

What was he doing?! Didn't he just say he wouldn't kiss him? Or was Richie just addressing that yeah, he remembered Eddie didn't want him to kiss him? Before he could freak out too much, Richie bent down, pressed his forehead against Eddie's, and just held him.

Eddie felt his heart hit a frantic tempo. The intimacy of the gesture was so unexpected, he almost didn't know how to handle it. Swallowing, he reached his hands up to wrap around Richie's neck, fingers sifting through thick, soft curls. Richie smiled, eyes closed, so much more serene and quiet than Eddie could have ever anticipated.

Just when Eddie had started to relax, Richie opened his mouth. "Just you wait, Eddie Spaghetti. When you finally come to your senses and agree that you and I were made for each other, I'm gonna kiss you so fucking hard, you won't even remember your name when I'm done with you. You'll just know you're Richie Tozier's bitch."

Eddie scoffed. How could somebody make something so vulgar actually sound romantic? Only Richie. So he gave in a little and kissed Richie on the cheek.

"Guess you better hope I am your soulmate, then. Otherwise you'll probably end up being Stan's bitch." Eddie laughed at the actual horror he saw in Richie's eyes. He ducked out of his grasp, grinning to himself that he managed to shut up the infamous Trashmouth, and was about to make a clean getaway when Richie grabbed his hand again.

"Hey! Don't forget Mr. Snugglepuss. I scammed him fair and square for you!" Richie tossed him the bear in question. Eddie gave him a stern look.

"I'm not calling him that," he warned, backing away.

"What? Why not? It's a perfectly good name! Mr. Snugglepuss is offended." Glasses back on, Richie leaned his lanky body against the wall and crossed his arms, shaking his head in disappointment.

"That's not his name. Stop calling him that!"

"Come on, Eds-"

"And stop calling ME that!"

"Well, I suppose you can call him Richie, if you think you're gonna miss me that much!"

Eddie gave him a sweet smile. "I think I'll call him Bill."

Richie deadpanned. "Don't you fucking dare. I will take Mr. Snugglepuss back, and you'll only see him every other holiday."

Eddie stopped walking, turning back around to grin at Richie. "Good night, Tozier."

"Night, Kaspbrak. Let your mom know I'll be seeing her tonight."

"Fuck off already!"

By the time Eddie had gotten back to his dorm room (twenty minutes later because Richie kept stopping him), he was still grinning like an idiot. Stan looked over at him, curious, and then furrowed his brow at the giant pink teddy bear. Eddie hastily took Mr. Snugglepuss to his room and settled him beside the bed.

"So how was your date with Bill?" he asked nonchalantly, hoping to get around the topic of the bear only slightly smaller than him.

"Why do you have a pink teddy bear?" Stan deflected immediately. The date must have gone well, then. Stan wasn't one to brag, especially when he really liked somebody.

"Mr. Snugglepuss. We went to the carnival. Richie won him." He didn't mention Richie's unorthodox method of winning. Stan would have either rolled his eyes or laughed his ass off.

"A carnival?" Stan scrunched up his nose. "I bet you enjoyed that."

"It… wasn't that bad. I enjoyed myself, and I'm guessing you did, too?" Eddie remarked just to see Stan go as red as a tomato. "Do you think Richie was right in the beginning?"

"Beats me. It's possible, but there's no real way to be sure. We can go on as many dates as we want, but in the end, will we ever really know the truth?" Stan drummed his fingers on the desk; if the lighting had been better, Eddie would've seen the hickey on his neck that he hastily covered with his shirt collar.

As much as Eddie didn't want to admit it… Stan had a point. They really wouldn't know, not really. They could fake it and pretend like they were sure. Eddie could wish that Richie was his soulmate, but doubt would always linger in the back of his head.

Doubt that he'd made the wrong choice.

He kept thinking about that all night, trying his best to figure out a real solution, but nothing came to mind. This was why he never wanted a soulmate to begin with! What was supposed to be the most straightforward moment of his life had turned into the most complicated, and it was bullshit. All bullshit.

Just like the pills his mother used to feed him. Just like the inhaler. Just like the rest of his fucking life.

"H-hey, Eddie? Are yuh-yuh-you okay?"

Eddie gave Bill a grim smile. They were on their way off campus for the day. They both had English 101 at the same time, and Eddie liked having somebody to walk back to the dorm with. Spending time with Bill was nice and easy, and he couldn't figure out if it felt as natural to be with him as it had being with Richie.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about this whole soulmate thing." He huffed a little, frustrated, and stopped walking. "Bill, how do you think we should figure this shit out?"

"I've buh-buh-been thinking about th-that," Bill confessed quietly. He motioned Eddie to follow him over toward a tree, where they could talk in private and be out of the sun. Eddie tried not to get his hopes up too high; he really wanted to know, but what solution could Bill have come up with that they all overlooked?

"What is it? What's your idea? I'm all ears."

Bill bit his lip for a moment. "Well, I w-was thinking… Wh-what if we k-k-kissed?"

"Kissed?" Eddie repeated numbly, feeling himself go pale.

"Yeah. D-d-don't you think we'd kn-know? Soulmate ch-chemistry and all th-that."

Bill made a good point. At least, it sounded like a good point. Eddie just couldn't decide if it was a point he wanted to hear. What if Bill wasn't his soulmate? Then he would have wasted his first kiss on somebody he didn't even belong with.

But how would they know otherwise? What if Bill was right, and they could tell just by kissing? He didn't like it… but maybe it was a sacrifice he'd have to make.

Swallowing tightly, Eddie nodded. "Okay. Just… do it quick, before I chicken out."

Bill took a deep breath and stepped closer to Eddie, who backed up against the tree nervously. The longer he put this off, the better, he reasoned. But why did his heart begin racing like that? Was that normal?

Before he knew it, Bill was even closer. Raising his hands to life up Eddie's chin. Eddie tried to catch his breath, but he the more he tried, the harder it became to breathe. He put a hand up to stop Bill's advancing and grabbed for his inhaler. He took a few desperate puffs, but the panic wouldn't recede.

It didn't make any sense! Physical contact didn't usually stress him out like this! Hell, just last night, Richie had been-

Oh. Oh. Well. Shit.

He looked up a Bill and whispered something he'd known all along and just hadn't realized it. "It's not you. You're not my soulmate."

Bill smiled with sudden relief.

And then he was grabbed from behind by a very angry Richie Tozier, who shoved him as far away from Eddie as he possibly could. "What the fuck, Bill? You may be my best friend, but I swear, if you kissed him, I'll kick your fucking ass, I swear-"

"Beep beep, Richie. He didn't kiss me," Eddie interrupted before Richie could explode more. Richie visibly sagged with relief, but the anger didn't leave him.

Stan had approached as well, and he didn't look happy. He took Bill's hand and observed the tense atmosphere. "What's going on?"

"Bill tried to kiss Eddie!" Richie accused, standing between them as if to keep Bill at bay.

"You what?!" Stan rounded on Bill, glaring, but Bill just smirked with a deviousness that would have rivaled Richie's.

"Just p-p-proving a point," he replied casually.

Eddie took this as a good time to intervene. He grabbed Richie's hand, and the taller boy turned around immediately to face him. His cheeks were still flushed with fury and his other hand was still curled into a fist, but Eddie thought he looked like a vision. It would be his luck that his soulmate was literally nicknamed Trashmouth.

He didn't say anything. Couldn't find the words to say, really. How did he tell Richie that he'd been right all along? That they really fucking were a match made in heaven?

Luckily, he didn't have to. Richie realized it, saw it in the way Eddie looked at him and felt it in the way he squeezed Richie's hand.

And Richie didn't fucking wait.

"Finally," he breathed, and then he was kissing Eddie. It was clumsy, and Richie's glasses bumped his face, but Eddie could feel the heat and the care and the love and knew that this was right. That Bill had been right when he said that he would know with a kiss. And when Richie cupped his face with trembling hands, he couldn't believe he hadn't realized it right from the very beginning.