Richies little habit
Welcome to my story!oh I should probably say I own nothing…being born in 1994 I thought that would have been obvious…anyway, enjoy!
He had only popped upstairs for a minute, Eddie had been complaining about 'how bloody bored he was' so Richie had run upstairs to fetch his chess set when he heard the door bang and the sound of Eddie leaving…well 'escaping' was probably a better description of eddies mad sprint across the road to a waiting Spudgun and Hedgehog, and with a loud 'QUICK LADS! IVE GOT HER PURSE!' all three were gone.
Richie sat on the sofa, his sweaty hands clenching and unclenching in his lap…he was all alone…in the flat…he could- no he couldn't do that, Eddie had nearly caught him last…but there had was a fiver in his purse, that meant Eddie would be gone for at least 4 hours…Richie gave a quick glance around the flat…and scrambled upstairs.
Richie had had this 'little habit' for just over 3 months and it was how he got his kicks these days. It had all started when the lady Natasha Letitia Sarah Jane Wellesley Obtromsky Ponsonsky Smythe Smythe Smythe Smythe Smythe Boblomov Dob, the first viscountess of Moldavia had come to visit, in all the confusion of Richie's heart attack and the ambulance interrupting her and eddies quick fumble on the sofa, she left not in the dress she had arrived in but one of eddies shirts. The next week she was deported back to Moldavia, and the dress remained unclaimed.
Richie sat at his dressing table, Eddie frequently mocked Richie's dressing table but he didn't care (well not very much) he examined himself in the mirror, he had just had a shower (for the first time for as long as he could remember quite frankly, it had taken a jackhammer and an industrial sized barrel of corrosive acid just to unstick the shower door) and now sat in his room with a towel wrapped round his chest (don't worry it covered the rest of him too! (But while we're on the subject of what people wear after the shower, Donald duck doesn't wear pants yet he wears a towel round his waist when he gets out the shower…WHY? It makes no sense (and yes I know I've ripped this question off an award winning comedy for those who have seen this question before( for those who haven't seen it MARVEL AT MY GENIUS( but I digress)))) now where was i…Eddie…purse…corrosive towels…ah yes I remember!
The late 30 year olds skin had flushed bright red from the hot water and his damp hair hung in small ringlets round his face, after flashing himself a 'sexy' grin, he stood up and with his heart beating with anticipation walked to the wardrobe. After another quick glance around the room he gave a high pitched giggle and opened the wardrobe door.
And there it was, hanging between the yellowing shirts in all its purple velvet glory. Richie took the dress out and held it against himself, before lying it back on the bed and diving back into the wardrobe, he came out again holding a brown paper bag crumpled and hidden right in the corner where no one could have found it, he tipped the bag upside down and out fell a pair of black silky pants. He stroked them, enjoying the feel of them…oh yes they were well worth the 16 hour trip to Brendas bargain bras and thongs in Edinburgh. And without further ado he slipped them on and dropping the towel on the floor he put the dress on.
It was true that lady Natasha Letitia Sarah Jane Wellesley Obtromsky Ponsonsky Smythe Smythe Smythe Smythe Smythe Boblomov Dob had been considerably smaller than Richie, but if being trapped on an island and being forced to eat 'shit fish' and brambles had done nothing else, it had certainly slimmed Richie down. Even so the dress did require a little tugging and did finish a Quite few inches above his ankles, but finally it was on. Richie looked at his reflection, gently swaying his skirts from side to side with a (supposedly) sweet smile. Then to the rhythm of imaginary music the ginger man slowly started waltzing round his bedroom. hours past, or it could have been minutes, Richie found it difficult to tell in his little dream world, all he knew was just as the duke of Cambridge was about to brush his lips across Richies hand when-
BANG
Richies eyes snapped open. 'shiiiiiiiiiiiit!' he screamed internally, twisting his head towards the clock he saw that nearly an hour and a half had passed. What the hell was Eddie doing home at this time? Then he remembered, the hard ware shop wouldn't sell Eddie meths anymore. Richies hand whipped round to his back scrabbling for the dresses zip, he would DIE if Eddie saw him like this! Ah! Richie felt the zips handle and tugged it quickly.
SNAP. Uh oh. Richie brought his hand to the front and slowly uncurled it. There lying in his palm was the tiny metal handle for the dresses zip. He stared at it and let out a shuddering gasp, his knees wobbling beneath him. What was he going to do? He was upstairs wearing a badly fitting dress (not to mention what was underneath) and his violently judgemental friend was downstairs. What the HELL was he going to do? Minutes passed and Richie had yanked open the window, anything , ANYTHING would be better than being found by Eddie, even jumping out the 4th floor of their building, he had got as far as sticking one leg out the window when he heard a deep rumbling coming from downstairs, no, surely, YES! Richie could hear the unmistakable sound of the drunken snore of his flatmate. Richie scrambled away from the window, and after shutting it he lifted his eyes to the sky and gave a little curtsey of thanks.
Eddie lay in a catatonic state on the sofa his mouth wide open and his glasses askew, still dressed in his hat and coat (and for reasons best known to himself his watch round his ankle) and letting out irregular snores. Richie poked his head round the corner, and saw his bald flatmate in his usual coma-like post drink sleep, he could have wept with relief but instead he walked across the room as silently as he could, careful not to step on squeaky floorboards or let his skirts rustle as he crept to the kitchen. Richie had no choice; he would have to cut the dress off. He carefully opened the drawer and began to search for the scissors. Richie grew more and more frustrated as he
tried to find the scissors in the knife filled drawer. He bent over trying to see if they had got caught at the back of the drawer.
'Well, well, well…look at this'. Richie froze. Bollocks. This was the end; his pitiful life had finally been brought to a halt by a combination of Eddie and faulty zips. 'May I say-hic! - you look absolutely cracking'. Wait…what?. It was at this point Richie felt a warm hand on his backside, his eyes widened, 'so…what's your name then' it was then Richie saw a way out of this, Eddie didn't know it was him! Maybe…just maybe… he could come out of this unscathed.
Richie stood up and gave a high pitch giggle, luckily Eddies eyes were boozy and unfocused, meaning he could look Eddie in the face while being pretty sure Eddie wouldn't be able to see his. 'hic…you're a stunna!' Eddie slurred, Richie gave another high giggle (and I mean high! Not his usual nervous giggle but a real high pitched thing that almost sound psychotic) Eddie gave in return (what he believed to be) a smouldering grin. 'So what's your name?' the bald man asked
Richie was stumped, in all his imaginary games he hadn't even thought of a name for himself, he panicked his mind going completely blank, it didn't help that Eddie had slid his hand on to Richie's waist.
'Urm…namenamename' he muttered his eyes darting round the room franticly searching for inspiration. 'Umm...knife…table…Window...lin yes!' offering out a gloved hand regally Richie quickly covered up his flustering. 'Ahem, I am Windowlin de 'curtain' Eddie took the out stretched hand ' a pleasure to meet you' he said and bent down in a rather wobbly fashion to place a kiss on 'Windowlins' hand.
'And what is a lovely thing like you doing in here? 'Eddie stepped a little closer pressing against Richie in a display of intimacy (or more likely lack of soberness) 'all alone with no one to look after you' something in eddies voice suddenly made Richie feel very uncomfortable.
The next thing he was aware of, Eddie had lurched forward and smashed his face into Richies. Richie gave a muffled yelp and pushed Eddie away, as Eddie stumbled backwards Richie ran round the other side of the kitchen table, hoping it would provide some sort of barrier. The drunk staggered round to face 'Windowlin'. 'Cor! Like it rough do you baby? And with more agility than any drunk should have he leapt onto the table 'let's have you then!' Richie sprinted out the room. Holding up his skirts in an attempt to run that little bit faster, as he got out the kitchen he took a second to pause, whattodowhattodowhattodoooooo? Unfortunately he paused a second to long, and before he knew what had happened Eddie had tackled him and pinned him to the wall at the bottom of the stairs.
'Don't worry baby' Eddie slurred, 'I'll be gentle' and pressing himself up against Richie he started to kiss his neck.
'Eddie wait i…oh god! Richie moaned as Eddie attacked his neck and shoulder, he had never known anything to feel so good! Leaning his head back against the wall he shut his eyes, his knees feeling weak, especially when Eddie began to run his hand up and down Richie's waist. Just as Richie felt his legs wouldn't support him anymore, Eddie grabbed one of Richie's legs and wrapped it round his waist. Richie wrapped his arms around eddies neck in thanks, taking advantage of the closeness Eddie plundered Richies mouth, kissing him passionately.
Why hadn't Richie known about this before? Of all the things he considered Eddie; a good kisser would never have occurred to him…then again why would it? As he kissed Eddie he stroked the back of his bald head, enjoying the way he was pressed against him and how eddies hand crept up his leg and began to fiddle with the edge of the silk knickers Richie was-
Richie's eyes shot open as he remembered where and what he was doing, for a few seconds he could only stare at the man he was entwined with, whose eyes were still shut and who was seemingly enjoying himself still, until finally he released Eddie from his grip and pushed him away, as the man stumbled back drunkenly Richie scrambled upstairs into his bedroom, slamming his door behind him.
Eddie watched the figure run upstairs, standing himself up he reached into his pocket and pulled out Richie's purse. Opening it up he removed the fiver and put It in his pocket for later.
He loved messing with Richie.
Hello kiddiwinks!
Thanks for reading and please review! If enough people like I'm considering writing another chapter, but all your reviews would be greatly appreciated!
(despite the strange situation I have tried to keep true to the characters with just a few changes, if you have any hints for me those too would be appreciated!)
