fight this fatal attraction (cricky)

4

The lighting in the diner was fluorescent yellow, the booths red and the tables covered in a checkered print cloth. It was mostly empty due to the fact it was so late, with the exception of waitresses in blue uniforms and white aprons and tired, grizzled looking men sipping large mugs filled with bitter coffee. 

Needless to say, the entrance of six black-clad, makeup-wearing, tattooed men made everyone's head turn, the group standing out like a sore thumb, especially Chris with his added height. They headed towards a booth, ignoring the sour look from one of the waitresses. Chris sat next to Angelo and Ricky automatically slid in next to Chris, the rest of the group sitting across from them. 

The sour faced waitress made their way over to them, and took their orders without enthusiasm or interest. Chris doesn't blame her to be honest, understands the jaded way she must feel stuck working in a dead end job trying to make ends meet. 

When their orders arrive, Chris notices that Ricky didn't order any food, just coffee, and Chris watches him add sachets of milk and sugar to the black liquid, noticing small details about Ricky, like the "hopeless" tattooed across his knuckles and the chipped red nail polish on his fingers.

"Are you not hungry?" Chris asks and Ricky startles, looking up.

"Oh, uh, no, I'm okay," Ricky rambles, and Chris suddenly feels bad, but he's not sure why. Ricky's simultaneously easy and difficult to read - Chris can tell that he's lying, yet he doesn't know what about.

"Are you sure? Here," Chris moves his large serving of fries so it's in between the two of them. "We can share."

Ricky smiles softly.

"Thanks," he murmurs, taking a fry and eating one, and Chris feels strangely satisfied at the fact that he's eating.

"So, Ricky," TJ asks in between bites of his grease and ketchup filled hamburger. "What do you do?"

"Uh, well, to be honest, I'm kind of in between stuff right now. I just moved here from Seattle. I was at film school, but I kinda, I dunno," Ricky shrugs, and Chris watches him, interested. "Wanted a fresh start I guess."

"Do you live with a girlfriend?" Ryan asks, inquiring.

"Uh, no."

"Boyfriend?" Balz smirks.

Ricky visibly stiffens, cheeks turning red and looks down so his long hair is covering his face. Balz and Ryan begin to laugh, the rest of the group smirking but Chris shoots daggers at them, stone faced. He knows what they're doing, and it's not funny. Ricky suddenly gets up out of the booth, walking quickly out of the diner and Chris' heart drops down to his stomach. They've upset him. Fucking assholes.

"You're all dicks, you know that, right?" Chris hisses between gritted teeth and he's glad when he sees the guilty looks on their faces.

"C'mon, Chris, we didn't mean-" Ryan starts but Chris just walks away, making his way to the door and pushing it open.

The night air is cool and refreshing but it's pitch black and 1am, and Chris doesn't know where Ricky's gone, worry starting to edge into his brain.

"Ricky?"

Chris walks down a little and finds an alleyway, where he spots a small figure smoking a cigarette with shaking hands. Chris' eyes widen and he immediately makes his way over.

"Ricky, are you okay? Don't listen to them, they're total dicks."

Ricky nods, and Chris notices that some of Ricky's makeup is smeared around his eyes like he's been crying. 

"'M fine, it's just, I don't know, I get panic attacks and shit, it's stupid," Ricky sniffles and takes another shaky drag of his cigarette.

"It's not stupid," Chris says firmly, standing in front of Ricky and ducking his head down to see his face. Being close like this really emphasizes their height difference, Chris noticing just how small Ricky is as the top of Ricky's head only just reaches his shoulder. Or maybe Chris is just ridiculously tall. Either way.

Ricky nods, chewing on his lip. They stand in silence for a while, Ricky smoking and Chris shuffling around awkwardly. 

"Hey, listen, um. I live close by, do you wanna maybe come to my place and chill out for a while? Maybe talk a little?"

Ricky shrugs his narrow shoulders, still biting his lip like he's deciding and Chris' heart is beating in anticipation in his chest.

"Yeah," Ricky nods, and Chris smiles warmly. "What about the rest of the guys though?"

"I'm still pissed at them, they can fuck off for all I care right now."

Chris is half-joking, half-serious and he feels proud when he finally hears Ricky give a chuckle. 

"Anyway, let's go."