Love is a Three Letter Word [You]

III

Rumor has it that if you wait long enough, plenty of opportunities will arise for you. Diedrich was lying about the fact he didn't write poetry. He did. And he just posted about a reading he was attending (and performing) in. Luckily for Vincent, it was at a bar just close enough to his apartment that it wouldn't seem off for him to just show up.

Vincent, thrilled with this chance, pounced on it with everything he had. He hopped on the train for a few blocks and breathed in that fresh air of satisfaction. Who cares if they don't actually end up talking to each other?

The bar was loud, noisy, and it was clear that absolutely no one in this place cared an ounce about poetry. Least of all Diedrich's friends in the corner. They were snickering to each other, laughing about the stupidest things. Diedrich shifted awkwardly wanting to disappear. Get better friends, please. Not that Vincent could judge, he didn't have any friends outside of the kid next door.

Vincent sat at the bar, close enough to the corner to overhear things, far enough away that Diedrich wouldn't notice him. Unless, of course, he did notice the attractive bookstore clerk. Someone please notice Vincent, he knows he has charm but no one else seems to think so.

"Look, your life has been shitty recently, we get it, but get over yourself and have a good time for once."

"You wouldn't understan-" Diedrich tried to fight back.

"No, shush," the friend forced his opinion onto him. "This is what you gotta do, get drunk, get laid, do some drugs, and fuck the school. Fuck Aleister. Find another guy to fuck and have a fucking threesome. You feel me?" Vincent could be that guy, just pointing that out there.

"You gonna order anything?" the bartender asked. Vincent nodded and muttered some sort of something or other while also trying to keep up with the conversation he was eavesdropping on.

"I'm not going to cheat on him, we are technically in a relationship," Diedrich sighed.

"Oh, fuck that bullshit," one of his friends downed a glass and slammed it down on the table. "You know he doesn't give two fucks about you. He sleeps around. He only goes to you for a quickie and then goes out for another fuck. The fact he isn't here right now is proof. He is going to give you some other bullshit excuse for why he couldn't make it and you're going to eat it all up." His friend placed his hand on Diedrich's shoulder. "Listen to me, Dee, forget about that asshole and start living your life." Finally, something Vincent could agree with.

"And now," someone was at the microphone to introduce the next act, "Diedrich Dalles."

This was either going to be really great or fucking awful. No place in between. Vincent could tell Diedrich wasn't a drinker and that he'd already had too much. He got up to the mic, did really great for a couple of stanzas, and then blew it. Vincent got a ton of second-hand embarrassment. Good news, maybe he wouldn't remember anything in the morning because of the hangover?

"Dee, dude, you fucking blew it," one of his friends laughed.

"Yeah, thanks for that, asshole," Diedrich mumbled and walked out. Now, Vincent wouldn't be a gentleman if he just left him to his own devices like that so he followed, of course, to the subway.

"This is going to be a disaster," Vincent muttered, walking quickly as could be. Damn Diedrich and his long muscular legs. Tall people truly are the enemy. "He is drunk, on his phone, and will obviously not mind the fucking gap."

Vincent skipped every other stair on his way down muttering repeatedly, "Stop looking at your phone, please," under his breath. If he wasn't a stalker, Diedrich would've died tonight. Thank your lucky stars you have a stalker, but at least he is cute and not a creep? Yeah, Vincent didn't think that was much of a plus either.

This bumbling idiot managed to fall onto the tracks. Vincent rushed over and held out his hand. "Hey, grab my hand and be careful there are about a thousand things down there that could zap your brains out."

"Do I...know you?" Diedrich squinted, ignoring the blazing light of the subway train and refusing to hold out his hand.

"We can get fully acquainted after you are out of suicide river," Vincent was losing his ability to remain calm with each second that passed. The very moment Diedrich made contact with his hand he pulled him out and the two crashed to the ground. Diedrich's body against his with the swift wind of the train passing, it was quite the scene and Vincent was too shocked to fully react. His heart pounded in his chest from the anxiety brought upon by the whole situation leading up to this point, not necessarily the fact that Diedrich was on top of him.

"You're...pretty strong for a scrawny guy," Diedrich giggled. Yes, Vincent was a toothpick and short but he did have a toned body and could lift much more than people thought possible. Perks of working in a bookstore. You lift quite a bit of heavy boxes.

Diedrich's bar encounter caught up with him and the next thing Vincent got to look forward to was the insides of Diedrich's stomach on his face and shirt. How romantic. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," he muttered, rolling off of Vincent.

Vincent died internally but luckily he had a handkerchief in his pocket. He wiped his face and began laughing. "As far as first interactions go, I'd say this was one of the most memorable."

"First? No, I've seen you somewhere before..." Diedrich rolled on his side and pointed at Vincent's face. "I would remember a hair color like that....oh! Bookstore!"

"Hm?" Vincent pondered for a moment, unsure of how long he should play dumb. "Oh! Yes, I remember now. Sorry about that. I'm not so good with faces."

"I don't have a remarkable face."

"I think you're incredibly remarkable, actually," Vincent smiled.

"Even for a guy that just vomited all over your face?"

"Yes, even so."

The two talked at the station for a couple of hours before Vincent finally broke down and decided to call an uber for the two. He never enjoyed ubers, serial killers could lurk behind the wheel for all anyone knew. But, tonight, just this once, he would ride with Diedrich, making sure he got home safely.

"Thanks for saving my life," Diedrich laughed, about to get out of the car.

"It was no trouble, really," Vincent smiled, waiting for just the right moment when Diedrich looked away to reach into his jacket pocket and snatch his phone.

"Here, let me give you my number in case I need saving again," Diedrich reached into his pocket. Vincent barely had enough time to remove his hand. "Oh shit, where is my phone," he scrambled around the car looking for it, panicking.

"Dee, sorry about earlier, I really wanted to come bu-" ah, yes, fuckboy privilege, why did he have to show up? He stood outside the car door and right into Vincent's eyes. He looked to Diedrich then back to Vincent and introduced himself to mark his territory. "Hello there, I'm Aleister, Dee's boyfriend." The emphasis on 'boyfriend' was just enough for Vincent to officially decide this bitch had to go. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but this bitch was gonna go.

"Here," Vincent slid a neatly folded napkin with his contact information into Diedrich's shirt pocket. "For when you need saving or a book recommendation," he smiled. Diedrich was snapped back into reality and exited the car.

"Thanks again, for literally saving my life," Diedrich laughed it off as if it was meaningless but Vincent relished in the awe on Aleister's face. "I'll give you a call when I manage to get a new phone," he waved. Aleister linked arms with him and dragged him into the house. Vincent hadn't even driven away yet but he heard the yelling distinctly.

"A minor obstacle," Vincent folded his hands and gazed out the window at the night lights. "Nothing I can't take care of."