Reddie Oneshots

Richie's Guitar Pt. 14

Eddie was sat on his side of the sofa again, head in his hands, only in his briefs. His hair was in disarray from where Richie had carelessly ruffled it, his lips plump and reddened, his neck bruised, littered with Richie's marks.

'Stay with me,' Richie requested, jabbing his toes into Eddie's ribcage.

Eddie sighed, reaching for his clothes. 'Rich, I shouldn't.'

Head knocking back against the armrest, Richie pulled up his boxers, 'Eddie, despite appearances, I'm not an idiot.'

'I know you're not.'

'I know that nothing has changed and we're still in different places,' Richie said in an odd, lazy voice, as though he was quoting a conversation they never had. 'I know you don't love me. I know where I stand. I know we're not together. Will you please come to bed?'

'Richie, we're supposed to just be friends,' Eddie said, shimmying on his jeans.

He snorted, 'We literally just –'

Slipping on his shirt, Eddie cut him off, 'Yeah, I know, but we said even before it happened that it was a bad idea. A mistake.'

'Then why did we make it?' Richie shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, but each word that dripped from Eddie's lips was another twist in the gut. 'Actually, scratch that. We both know why I made it. Why did you make it?'

Eddie blinked, 'I don't know.'

Richie reached for his own clothes and started to dress. 'I'm going to make an executive decision right now that you are not allowed to give that answer to me anymore. You said you knew it was a bad idea to come over, so you expected this might happen, but you came in anyway. We acknowledged a bad idea, a mistake, whatever, but we did it anyway. You could have stopped it. You could have left. You didn't.'

'I should have stopped it. I should have left.'

'Should, should, should,' Richie mocked. 'Who gives a shit about "should"? It's done. We did it.'

'What happens now?' Eddie asked quietly. 

Lightly, Richie backhanded his upper arm. 'Stop changing the fucking subject. Why did you do this, Eds?'

'You did it too,' Eddie deflected.

Richie laughed, 'Yeah, I did. I invited you in and I kissed you and I took your fucking clothes off, because I miss you and am hopelessly in love with you, and we both know that. What we don't know is why you did all those things to me after you so elegantly broke my heart.'

Wincing, Eddie said, 'I'm sorry.'

'I don't want a fucking apology. I want an answer,' Richie said percussively. 'So, for the last fucking time, why did you do this?'

Eddie was quiet, 'Because I wanted to.'

'Why?' Richie pressed, scooting closer, forcing his gaze.

Self-loathingly, Eddie huffed, 'Because I'm fucking selfish and don't have any self-control around you. Because I'm still the same fucking mess I've always been.'

Richie huffed, 'That's not the fucking truth.' There was a thick coat of menace slathered onto his words.

Eddie's eyes narrowed as he slipped his shirt over his head, 'You're really angry.'

'Of course I'm angry, Eddie,' Richie assured, his eye contact harsh and sharp.

'Why?' Eddie asked, expecting, and on some levels, strangely hoping, that Richie would keep yelling at him. He felt like he probably deserved it.