????? ? ??????

Eddie felt small.

Not in the weak, frightened way he was used to. This was different. This was peaceful. Walking back to the apartment with Richie by his side, drowning in Richie's too-big sweatpants and hoodie, Eddie felt strangely protected. Richie's clothes were soft, and warm, and they smelled like just like him. The clouds were just barely beginning to lighten with sunset, bathing the world in a soft purple glow. In spite of the cold, and his dripping hair and aching limbs, and the ends of the pants that he kept stepping on, Eddie didn't think he'd ever felt more at peace. It was as though the enveloping warmth of Richie's clothes were a shield; a barrier between Eddie and the rest of the world. He felt like a child, wrapped in a blanket as though to protect himself from whatever might hurt him. He buried his nose further into the hoodie, breathing in the scent of Richie mixed with his own chlorine-stained skin. Hidden behind the fabric, he smiled.

He felt small. He felt safe.

***

Eddie looked small.

Smaller than usual. He was practically swimming in Richie's clothes, the hoodie reaching nearly to his knees and the sleeves covering his fingertips. It was so cute. It was all Richie could do to not squish his cheeks, or pull him into a hug, or hold his hand inside the sleeve of his sweater and swing it between them. Richie watched him tuck his nose into the hoodie, watched his eyes crinkle in a secret smile.

He looked small. He looked cute.

Under the violet sky of dawn, wet hair shining in the light, he looked downright celestial.

***

Two weeks passed, and with them did the snow. Winter had finally eased the Earth from her icy clutches and given way to a reluctant spring. Puddles were abundant, and rain clouds seemed to hover perpetually over the city, ready to release their cargo at a second's notice. Eddie had taken to wearing rubber boots and carrying an umbrella with him at all times. Richie, for his part, had made no change from his regular sneakers and t-shirts.

Said sneakers were currently soaked, as were the legs of his jeans all the way up to his knees. He always made a point to splash through every puddle he passed, though it made his feet so wet it sounded like a swamp when he walked. To his credit, Eddie barely nagged him about it. He even joined Richie sometimes, kicking up water like a child.

("It's fun," he'd shrugged when Richie asked why he hadn't needed any cajoling to splash in puddles. "And there's no harm - I'm wearing rubber boots. You, on the other hand..." He'd wrinkled his nose.

Richie had responded with a spectacular two-footed jump into the next puddle, splashing dirty rain water up to the hem of his t-shirt.)

"Where are we going ?" Richie was whining now. He had been taken completely by surprise when Eddie had come bouncing down to their streetlight earlier that night with a bag slung over his shoulder and a smile on his face.

"You'll find out," Eddie smirked, and Richie knew what he was thinking: See how it feels?

He sighed heavily. Annoying . "I swear on my life," he said. "I'll never do this to you again."