The art of living together - To friendship spin-off
#1: Fashionably late
Author: Ligeia
Fandom: Richy Guitar
Characters: Richy/Igor
Rating: PG-13
Category: Romance/Humour
Summary: "Perfection require times."
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. Richy Guitar and all related characters were originally created by Michael Laux. I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.
"Igor, get away from that fucking mirror, we're gonna be late."
Richard was standing in the doorway, arms crossed as he waited for the drummer to get out of the bathroom.
"So what? Hans'll wait; it's not like he's got anything better to do, anyway."
"You know I don't like being late."
"I told you to just go ahead and I'd join you later, but you wouldn't listen."
"We're living together and going to the same place, why should I go on my own? If you just didn't take so bloody long to get ready..."
"Perfection requires time."
Richard rolled his eyes. "We're just going to rehearsals; it's only you, me and Hans, do you really need to put make-up on?"
"I feel naked if I'm not wearing kohl."
The guitarist shook his head. "You're such a girl."
Igor capped the black eye pencil and stuffed it in the front pocket of his impossibly tight leather trousers. He turned to Richard and gave him a look that could only be described as 'sultry'.
"Don't pretend you don't like it, I've noticed how you look at me when I'm all gothed up."
He approached him slowly, and Richard could swear he was swinging his hips on purpose. Either that, or he had never noticed just how seductive Igor could be doing something as simple as walking. He swallowed.
"Are you saying it's my fault?"
Igor's only reply was a crooked little smirk.
'Oh, screw it,' Richard thought. 'We're going to be late anyway.' He stepped over his guitar case, pushed Igor up against the nearest wall and kissed him. It still surprised him just how natural it felt to kiss his best friend like that, how their lips, their hands, their whole bodies moved in perfect coordination, as if they had done nothing else for years. The drummer moaned happily and wrapped his arms around the blonde's shoulders, all but melting against him.
Richard reluctantly pulled back when he felt Igor's hands sneak under his T-shirt. They needed to stop if they didn't want to be really late.
Igor looked up at him with half-closed eyes and that pout that always gave Richard a fluttering feeling in his stomach. "I bet my make up's all smudged now."
Richard picked up his guitar, grabbed Igor's hand and dragged him out of the flat. He'd have plenty of time to fix it on the underground.
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August 2008