dogfight : reddie

first date/last night

so take him out, give him a shot, 'cause people can surprise you... or not!

richie, somehow, ended up outside the diner. he was on the street, tapping his feet against the pavement. 

eddie stood in the doorway, a little disheveled having came running downstairs at the racket of richie banging on the door. he wasn't particularly a fan of anything about richie.

richie not knowing what to say, let the two sit in silence for a bit. he thought about what he maybe could say, but really nothing came to him. 

"i'm down here, richard. you got me out of bed. you woke up half the neighbourhood. what do you want?" eddie asked, his hands shoved in his pajama pants pockets.

richie pulled something out of his pockets, a decently crumpled rose, "a rose for you," he said. eddie seethed. "i thought you'd like it."

"that's all you got to say?" eddie looked like he was about to explode, honestly. but he collected himself, richie standing in silence once again. eddie inhaled, "i just want you to know something, and it's the only reason i came out here. you're the ugly one, tozier. not me." 

still silence, but more so stunned than before.

"you know that other boy, stan? he won first prize." eddie started, richie still being completely quiet, "your friend bill didn't find him--he hired 'im." eddie told richie. 

richie scoffed in disbelief, "oh come on."

"he hired him," eddie said insistently, "i heard them fighting, richie. he was trying to weasel him out of his share. bill's not only a moron and a cheat--he's a cheapskate." eddie crossed his arms.

"no shit," richie said, taking very little to convince him of it.

eddie scoffed a little to himself, "did i win anything?" 

richie swallowed a little doubt, "no. in fact, you were disqualified. too pretty." eddie rolled his eyes and shot richie a look.

"don't-don't call me pretty. and what about all the other dates? what about their feelings? didn't they have feelings?" eddie got more upset, his eyebrows twisted upwards.

"hey, they didn't know anythin' about it. besides, you're different. how many jarheads in that shithole? and how many tried to talk their partner outta going? and before dancing, too! that's the final judging, you know." richie defended himself.

"what, is that a sick compliment?" eddie asked, upset with how richie was leaning against the door of the building.

"yeah."

"a compliment is when you say something nice about someone, not when you--"

richie interrupted eddie, "i'm telling ya eds, it's a compliment."

"don't call me that!" eddie barked at him, "there's no such person as jim swain! he doesn't exist! you don't know anything about music, richie. you don't know who pete seeger is or even woody guthrie. you don't even know how to apologize. you think you know everything, but you don't. goodnight, richard." eddie turned around to go inside.

"hold it! eddie! please. i know you're upset--i feel rotten about it. lemme make it up to you. you gotta believe me eddie: i'm sorry. i wanna take you to dinner." richie exclaimed, eddie biting his tongue.

"dinner? really funny joke, richie." eddie said bitterly.

"i mean it, hey. i don't care what you look like." richie replied, reaching an arm out for eddie. eddie didn't take it.

"i wish you did. you don't get it." eddie sighed. 

"look. there's a lotta shit i don't know, eds. i came all the fuck way back here,  i don't know why. i don't know what the hell i'm doing, yapping at you like a goddamn idiot, i don't know what i should be saying, but i wanna be here with you, eddie. i know that. i can't help it." richie let out, eddie's turn being silent as he pondered. "if you don't want me around, just tell me to leave and i'm gone, okay? i'm fuckin' out of here." richie said.