Title: To friendship - Part 2
Author: Ligeia
Fandom: Richy Guitar
Characters: Richy/Igor
Rating: PG
Category: Romance
Summary: "And you kicked me out of bed because of that?"

Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

The following story is a work of fiction. Richy Guitar and all related characters were originally created by Michael Laux. I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

To friendship - Part 2

Riiing.

Igor slowly came back to consciousness. Something had woken him, but he couldn't understand what.

Riiing.

Oh, that. He groaned and put the blanket over his head. He had no intention of getting out of bed.

Thump thump thump.

"Wake up, you lazy sod, I know you're home!"

He opened his eyes. Richard? Why was Richard trying to knock down his door at such an ungodly hour? He raised his head and looked at the clock standing on the bedside table. 12:10 PM. Well.

Riiiiiiiiiing.

"All right, all right, I'm coming! Cut the fucking racket!" He threw back the covers and went to open the door.

"About time!" Richard's smile was almost blinding. He walked inside the flat and went straight to Igor's bedroom. Igor noticed he was carrying his guitar. He closed the door and followed him.

"Man, this room needs some fresh air."

"Well, sorry, I was sleeping before you got here." Igor drew back the curtains and opened the window. A rush of cool air made him shiver and he realised he was wearing only a T-shirt and a pair of boxers. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"I wrote a new song."

Igor turned round. "And you kicked me out of bed because of that?"

"I wanted you to be the first to listen to it. Beside, it's past midday, you shouldn't be still in bed."

"Who said it?" He picked up a pair of jeans lying on the floor and pulled them on. "I hope for you it's a good song."

Richard's smile would have put the Cheshire Cat's grin to shame. "It's the best one I've ever written."

+++

"So?" Richard was looking expectantly at him. "What do you think?"

Igor put the empty coffee mug on the floor. Richard hadn't exaggerated, that was really the best song he had written so far. The melody was so catchy it had stuck in his head and just wouldn't leave him alone. The lyrics were a mixture of heartsickness, will for revenge and silliness; only Richard could talk about Currywurst in a love song.

"It's great."

Richard lightened up. "Really?"

"Have I ever lied to you about your songs?"

"Only when you wanted to piss me off."

Igor thought about the text. There was really no mistaking whom it was about. "Is it about Anja?"

Richard looked down and shrugged. "It's just something I came up with." He put the guitar back into his case. "It doesn't have to be about someone in particular."

"Hey, it's all right." Igor put a hand on Richard's arm. "The lyrics are brilliant. Besides, just imagine her face if you got rich with this song, that would serve her right."

"If we got rich," Richard replied glancing up again. His eyes looked bright grey in the midday light. "We're a band, remember?"

Igor got that funny feeling in his stomach again.

"I'm starving!" He said and got to his feet. "Let's go eat something."

Richard snapped his guitar case shut. "What's on the menu today?"

The drummer grinned. "Currywurst and chips, of course."

+++

They had gone busking again, hoping some music manager accidentally passing by would be struck by their talent and offered them a contract. As it was, they had only managed to raise a few marks.

"Well, this covers up the cost of that extra ice cream you had," Igor said when he was done counting the coins.

Richard didn't find it funny. "We're never gonna make it."

"Huh?"

"Let's be honest, we're just wasting time here, we'll never become real musicians. Maybe I should listen to my dad and look for a real job."

"Hey, hey, hey! Since when do you agree with your old man?"

Richard shrugged. Igor thought his friend looked like a little boy when he pouted like that.

"We've just been unlucky; there are dozens of lousy bands out there that have a contract just because their demos got into the right hands. We just need to find the right person, someone who can appreciate our music."

"Maybe no one appreciates it because it's crap."

Igor grabbed Richard's face and forced him to look him in the eye. "Never say that again. Never." Richard's sad, resigned look made Igor's heart ache. "You know what? We're going out tonight."

"I'm supposed to go home early."

"Well, you won't." Igor took hold of Richard's guitar. "We're going to leave this at my place and then get well and truly plastered."

"But..."

"No buts." He turned around and led the way. He knew Richard would follow him: he would never abandon his guitar.

+++

"My dad's gonna be so pissed off," Richard mumbled as he climbed the stairs to Igor's flat. "I didn't even call to say I'm sleeping here."

"Well, 's too late now, isn't it?" Igor was holding onto the handrail and trying not to wobble too much.

"You know what? I don't give a damn. Doesn't he remember what it's like to be young? Fuck him and his fucking discipline."

"Now you're talking, mate!" Igor stopped in front of his door and leaned against the wall. "Man, I'm so drunk." After a few tries he finally managed to open it. He had never thought putting a key into a keyhole could be so difficult. He walked into his bedroom without turning on the lights and tripped on something.

"Damn you, whatever you are!"

"Be quiet, you're gonna wake up your parents." Richard had closed the entrance door and was fumbling about, slowly making his way into the dark flat.

"They started using earplugs when I started playing drums."

"You must've been pretty unbearable at the beginning."

"Haha. I wouldn't be so cheeky if I were you, remember I could kick you out and leave you to sleep on the street."

"You'd never do that to your best friend."

"Try me."

Igor slumped on the bed and took off his boots. Richard sat down on the floor and removed his shoes.

"Can I move this stuff?" He asked pointing at the mess of clothes and magazines spread all over the carpet. "I need some room to sleep."

"You want to sleep on the floor?"

"Where else?"

"Well, my bed is big enough..." As soon as the words left his mouth, Igor realized what a big mistake that could be. He tended to do very stupid things when he was drunk. "I mean, if you don't mind sharing a bed with a drunk bloke."

"Better than the carpet anyway. God knows when was the last time you cleaned it."

Richard stood up and started working on his belt buckle. Igor stared as his friend unzipped his jeans and pulled them off.

"Are you going to sleep like that? All those studs will be a pain in the arse. Literally."

Igor blinked. "No, of course not." He got to his feet and removed the various belts he was wearing. He hesitated when he got to his fly.

"Don't tell me you're embarrassed. What is it, do you have a new tattoo you don't want to show me? Did you get 'I love Nena' on your hip?"

Igor could clearly see Richard's grin even if it was almost completely dark.

"I was just trying to remember whether I'm wearing any underwear."

"Man, I hope you are."

Luckily, he was. He made quick work of his trousers and shirt, drew back the quilt and crawled into bed.

"Budge up."

Richard nudged him and he slid over until he was lying with his arm pressed against the wall. Maybe he had overestimated the size of his bed.

"You don't snore, do you?"

"Not that I know of."

They were silent for a while. Igor was all too aware of Richard's presence. It would be so easy to just reach out and stroke his thigh. Richard would be surprised at first and Igor would move closer and nuzzle his face into his friend's neck, running his hand slowly upward and whispering ridiculous endearments until Richard relaxed under his touch. And then he would inch higher, bringing their lips just a millimetre apart and...

"You know what would be great?" Richard eventually asked, putting an end to Igor's unruly thoughts. He turned on his side, head resting on his hand, and smiled at him. "Having a flat of our own, so no one would get mad if we get home late or play until two in the morning. No annoying parents constantly bugging us to get a job, no curious neighbours who seem to know everything you do. No one. Just you and me."

Igor knew Richard hadn't meant it like that, but he couldn't help the images that flooded his mind.

Just you and me.

He swallowed.

"That would be... awesome."

"That's settled then!"

"Huh? What?"

"We'll start looking for a flat tomorrow!"

"Wait a minute, how are we going to pay the rent? You lost your job and I have no intention of going back to being a hamburger-man, thank you very much."

"We'll find something." Richard grinned and lied down on his back. "This is the best decision we've ever made."

Igor stared at the ceiling. He smelled trouble ahead. Very big trouble indeed.

-----
February 2008

Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

back