What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

Rejected.

"What do you mean by that?" Emory questioned, furrowing his brows as he propped his elbows up on the table and leaned across it.
"I mean exactly what I said. She's going to be pissed off later," Red responded nonchalantly.

The waitress returned with their drinks a few minutes later and set them down, staring at Red as she did so.
"What would you like to eat?" She asked, winking at Red, who just ignored her. Emory chose a more violent route than ignoring.
"Do you have that big of daddy issues that you have to beg for attention from every man you meet?"

The woman stared at Emory in shock for a few seconds before scoffing.
"Excuse me? I could have you banned from this restaurant if I wanted!" She snapped, glaring at him. Emory clicked his tongue and went to retaliate before Red spoke instead.
"We'll take a few more minutes deciding, ma'am." She then walked off, visibly irritated but not wanting to make a scene or act like a crazy person in front of Red.

Red turned back to look at Emory, and surprisingly, he didn't seem all that annoyed.
"Emory, that was unnecessary. Tone it down," He commanded, taking a sip from his glass of water.
"She is acting like a fucking—" Emory started before being abruptly cut off.
"Language," Red reminded, leaning back in the booth. Emory looked Red up and down before responding.
"Are you feeling okay? You're much more laid back than you usually are."
"Would you like me to yell at you for being a disrespectful brat?"
"No, but that's... never mind."

Emory glanced toward the lady. He met her gaze and she was absolutely glaring at him. He smirked and waved at her, to which she flipped him off and walked into the backroom.
"She flipped me off," Emory muttered, turning back to Red who smirked slightly.
"Easy, now," Red stated. "What are you getting?" He slid a menu across the table to Emory.
"Unsure. You?" Emory replied, picking the menu up and flipping through it.

"I'm not getting anything," Red answered. Emory paused, glancing over the menu at Red.
"Dude, you do this—"
"Don't call me dude."
"Red, you do this every time. You take me out to eat and you never order anything." Emory complained, looking back towards the menu.
"I don't need anything. I already ate."
"That was your excuse last time."
"Okay, nothing here piques my interest. This is a cheap restaurant with cheap food," Red explained, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at Emory.
"Oh, yeah, the rich guy can't eat at a normal restaurant," Emory muttered, slamming the menu down against the table and sliding it off to the side.

The waitress took Emory's order, and although she was seemingly upset that Red didn't order anything, she quickly left their table as soon as she had finished writing everything down.

Emory sighed loudly, pulling his phone out.
"I could have been spending my Saturday doing something much more productive, you know," Emory muttered, glancing up at Red.
"Like what? Sleeping?"
"Exactly,"

Red rolled his eyes in response before changing the topic.
"What's your deal with the waitress?" Emory paused for a moment to think. He didn't even know himself.
"She's just mad annoying. Her voice is so stupid and she gives off such pick-me vibes," He answered, setting his phone face down on the table.
"Once again, deal with it for now," Red stated, leaning forward on the table.

The waitress returned with Emory's food and a refilled glass of water for Red. She slid Emory's food to him and then turned to Red, smiling slightly before placing the glass down. As she did so, she 'accidentally' knocked it over, causing water to spill over Red's lap. She gasped in the fakest way possible before grabbing a pile of napkins from the table.
"I am so sorry, mister. Let me clean this up for you..." She said seductively before kneeling in front of Red and patting the napkins against his thighs.

Red gently but firmly grabbed the woman's wrist, pulling her hand away from him.
"I didn't permit you to touch me. Get your hands off of me, understood?" He spoke in a low voice, he was slightly irritated. The lady just nodded in response as he stood up, her cheeks red from embarrassment. She looked down and apologized quickly.

"I have a friend over here who would enjoy doing it instead, anyway," Red smirked and glanced at Emory, winking.
"Um, no I wouldn't. You're a grown man, you can do it yourself," Emory responded, narrowing his eyes slightly at Red.
"Would you rather her do it?" Red asked Emory, looking towards the waitress. Emory gritted his teeth slightly and shook his head before answering.
"That's not what I said. Do it yourself."

Red gestured for the lady to leave as he wiped his lap down with a couple of napkins. By now, Emory had finished eating and was glaring at the waitress.
"Stop glaring at her," Red muttered, placing the napkins off to the side of the table.
"She obviously did it on purpose. She's definitely trying to get into your pants," Emory snapped, crossing his arms and leaning back.
"And she isn't going to. Relax, Em," Red replied.
Emory rolled his eyes and glanced back over to the waitress, who was now walking back to the table.
"Oh, for fucks sake," Emory muttered, waiting for her to start flirting again.

"Excuse me, sir?" She approached Red, smiling at him as she tucked her hair behind her ears. Red looked up at her, waiting for her to continue.
"Um, can I get your number? I think you're really hot and I would be a good match for you," She bit her bottom lip slightly as she stared at Red. Red grinned slightly, leaning back against his seat.
"Is that so, darling?" He asked, looking her up and down. She blushed slightly in response and giggled a bit. Emory furrowed his brows, annoyed by her behavior.

"It's 988," Red told her, a grin forming across his face as the woman's dropped.
"That's... the suicide hotline number though," She stated, confused as to why Red said that that was his number. Red nodded.
"Just making sure you know it because I would never date a girl like you. You think that you get to harass me because you have a 'crush' on me?" He scoffed, pausing. "Get out of my sight," He finished, shaking his head and turning away from her.

She bit the inside of her cheek as tears welled up in her eyes. She turned and ran to the backroom, tears rolling down her face.

Emory laughed slightly, watching her as she ran.
"Now that was something," He chuckled, turning to make eye contact with Red. Red shrugged and got up from the booth.
"Up," He commanded, taking his wallet out from his pocket as Emory stood up after him.

They made their way to the front and there was a man who was glaring at them. Red gave the man his card to pay for the meal and the man snatched the card from his hand, quite aggressively.
"I think he's a bit mad," Emory mumbled, watching as the man swiped the card. Red just nodded, not responding. The man walked back over and handed Red his card back. As they went to leave, the man grabbed Red's arm.
"Hold on," He stated, tightening his grip.
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AUTHORS NOTE:
This was a longer chapter. And I hope some people got fooled and thought Red was actually flirting with her. Literally anyone. (Someone please say you got fooled...)

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