Reddie Oneshots

Richie's Guitar Pt. 8

'Jesus Christ, Richie!' Eddie shrieked from inside the hammock. 'Fuck off!'

Richie gripped him by the wrists and lifted him out. 'Let's.' Then he started to pull Eddie towards the hatchway.

Bev exhaled a plume of smoke. 'Where the fuck are you two going?'

'Again,' Stan added, nonchalantly turning a page in his book.

Richie was prepared, 'If you must know, Eddie's been helping me out with my song-writing.'

'Are you p-playing?' Bill asked, raising his eyebrows at Eddie.

'You don't play guitar, do you, Eddie?' Mike checked curiously.

'No,' Eddie said, blushing, trying to leave.

Richie bragged, 'He's a singer though.'

Bill disclosed, 'And he p-plays p-p-piano.'

'You play piano?' Ben asked, his eyes lighting up.

Bev stubbed out her cigarette, 'Why don't I know this?'

Eddie felt Richie's eyes burning into the side of his head. 'No, I,' he started, 'well, I haven't played in a while. I was never any good.'

'Liar,' Stan said. 'You were.'

Richie said, 'Yes, Eddie is absolutely helping me via his piano prowess. He's a prodigy. Speaking of which, I am going to listen to him play right fucking now.' He jabbed a finger into Eddie's ribcage, and he hastily climbed out of the clubhouse.

When they were a while away, Eddie turned to Richie and kissed him, then said, 'Just to be fucking clear, there is no way I'm playing the piano for you.'

'Do you really play?' Richie asked, fascinated. 'Is this something I've forgotten or something I never knew?'

He wasn't sure which he'd prefer it to be. It helped that some of the other Losers were in the same boat as he was, but it hurt that Bill and Stan knew when Richie didn't. He thought he knew everything there was to know about Eddie.

Eddie shrugged, 'Could be either. I don't talk about it.'

'Why not?'

'Frankly,' Eddie lowered his gaze, 'it's always made me kinda sad.'

Not sure if he should ask, the question stuttered out of Richie's mouth in three syllables. 'Why?'

'Piano's my dad's,' Eddie said quietly, starting to walk. 'I don't have many memories of him, but most of those I do have are at the piano. Him playing and me trying to sing, and my mom even fucking smiling, if you can believe.'

Richie furrowed his brow, 'Is there a piano in your house?'

Eddie nodded. 'It's a bit buried at the moment. Like I said, I don't play much anymore. And I never liked playing for an audience.'

'But when did you play it at all?'

Scratching the back of his neck, Eddie explained, 'After my dad died, I asked to learn to play. My mom was torn at first. She liked the idea of me learning an instrument; a bit of discipline and practice, keeping me inside and out of danger, you know, but she was worried it would make her too sad to hear it.'

'But you did learn.'

'Yeah. We already had the piano. Family friend offered to give me lessons for free, and gave me some books to use, and I practised a lot. This is back in the days when my mom would barely let me leave the house at all, you remember? You kept asking her if I could come around for playdates and you thought I didn't like you because I never came.'