Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: R
Summary: What could get Richie to dress in a spangled leather vest, fringed chaps, and a glittering cup?
Warnings: Slash
Challenges: Peja's challenge for a Fonz/Rich fic wherein Richie is dressed in a spangled leather vest, fringed chaps, and a glittering cup.
Disclaimer: Fonzie, Richie, all other characters mentioned within, and Happy Days are & TM their respective owners, not the author. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long, matey, but I had to figure out a way to make the idea work without turning out to be a pwp. Ye didn't exactly make it easy fer me, did ye, mate? ;-)
Author's Note 2: Thanks to my beloved Jack for the title, which comes from Roy Orbison's "Anything You Want".
He stood in front of his mirror, his throat tight and his eyes wide and almost near panick at what he saw before him. Never in a million years would Richie Cunningham have ever thought that he would dress as he now was. His hands hovered protectively in front of his groin, but he knew he'd never be able to stand like that.
Stand like that? What the heck was he thinking?! He couldn't even walk like this! He couldn't go out the door! He couldn't go out of his room! He had to. His father had been far too sick for far too long, and his mother had to be home to take care of him. Some one had to make money so that they could eat and wouldn't lose the roof from over their heads.
"Knock, knock."
The voice accompanying a slight tapping on his door caused Richie to spin around. "Don't come in!" He was about to dive to the only safety he could see -- his bed -- when the head of the one person who he was almost always happy to see stuck through his door.
"Hey, what kind of a greeting is . . . ?" His best friend's voice froze in his throat as he stared at the outfit Richie had on. Slowly, Fonzie's eyes took in the luscious body of his lover wrapped in leather. The spangled leather vest he had donned revealed most of his thin chest while the fringed chaps his legs wore made Fonzie wonder what it would feel like to have his leather-clad legs wrapped around him, the fringes dangling beside their sweat-covered bodies.
He could not see what Richie's hands hid nor did he try to. In that moment, there was very little he could have tried to do for his brain and tongue had frozen, his eyes were set to pop out of his head at one more sexy revelation, and his heartbeat was hammering in the wild pounding of a manic rhythm in his throat. He swallowed hard, and even when he finally found his voice again, all he could manage to say was, "Whoa . . . " His grin lit up his face as he gave Richie two thumbs up.
Richie's face had already gone well pass his hair's shade of red, and the rest of his body was quickly following suit. "F-F-Fonzie, th-this i-isn't wh-what i-it looks like . . . "
"It isn't?" Fonz returned with a quirked eyebrow raised in question. His lips drew down into a seductive pout. "I thought the Fourth of July had come early!"
Shock at the tears that welled in Richie's eyes snapped Fonzie into an immediately somber mood. "Hey, hey, baby, it's okay," he was quick to reassure him as he stepped in and shut and locked the door behind him. "Really it is. Your Father's gonna get better, and . . . " He paused suddenly and took another look at the outfit Richie wore. Both his eyebrows shot up at the glimpse of a glittering cup Richie's splayed fingers finally granted him. "No." The word was harsh as it spilled from his suddenly hoarse throat. "No, no, absolutely not!"
"Fonzie," Richie started to try to explain slowly through the baseball-sized lump in his throat, "some one's got to bring in money . . . "
"Richie," Fonz said, shaking his head, "that's already taken care of, and even if it wasn't, I could never let you do what you're getting ready to do. No man of mine is going to dance for a living or . . . or . . . " He shut his eyes tight against the vision that welled within his mind. He did not want to even think about his poor, innocent baby walking the streets for a living!
He closed the distance between them with swiftness that took even Richie by surprise and grabbed him to him in a tight hug. "No way. There is no way I will ever let you have to come to that point. It's not gonna happen, baby," he insisted, pressing a kiss to Richie's red hair. "Never, ever, no matter what!"
"But, Fonz, some one has to . . . "
Fonzie pulled back and looked at his beloved. He gently cupped Richie's freckled face in his hands and, with his forehead and nose pressed against Richie's, told him firmly, "The bills have been paid, and the refrigerator is fully stocked. Anything else you or your mother or your father or little Joanie needs, you just let me know. I'll make it happen."
Richie stared at Fonzie in disbelief. "Mom would never -- "
"She doesn't know where the money came from, and she's not going to know." He kissed him lightly. "And you're not going to tell her, are you?"
Richie shook his head slowly, his short hair brushing against Fonzie's tensing fingers. "No, no . . . " He gave a short bark of laughter, but tears fell from his eyes. "You're amazing, you know that?"
Fonzie grinned. "I know." He took his man's lips with his own, making a silent promise then and there that he would never let Richie hurt for anything.
The End