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It really is too early to deal with this at this ungodly hour, Riz thinks bitterly. He’s manning the register now, because they’re short-staffed since Penny AND Zelda caught the flu two days ago. He’s slightly thankful for the extra shifts, the thicker paychecks should help him eat better food that cereal water and pay for his other expenses, but it also prevents him from studying properly for his classes, like what he’s trying to do now. He’s been attempting to for the past thirty minutes, reading case studies of several serial killers and trying to commit the information to memory, but his attention span seems to have fizzled out, so he’s just kinda staring at the unsettling mugshots of the creeps.
The noise from the table of varsity students two tables away from the register keeps distracting him from his studying , and what frustrates him the most is that they’re not even making enough noise to warrant Riz to scold them over it. It’s not that Riz hates that particular group, highschool pettiness and grudges long gone, he’s even friends with some of them in their shared classes. Its just that Riz is fucking distracted by one of them in particular, the one with the broad shoulders and silver hair.
It’s stupid, he knows, that he has a crush on Fabian Seacaster of all people. Stupider still that he’s had this crush since highschool.
It’s not that Fabian’s not crush-worthy, the guy is literal eye-candy, all honeyed skin and white teeth with a body that looks like he belongs in some Abercrombie and Fitch ad. But Riz has had this code ever since that disaster with Biz in junior year, that he’d never thirst over straight guys, like, ever . It’s messy and he’s honestly just tired of trying to second-guess himself, silently trying to invoke all the gods, hoping that the guy likes Riz at the very least to take a stab at a relationship.
And Fabian is one of the most guy that has ever guy-ed in the History of Guyness, still remembers the time in highschool when he accidentally walked into an empty classroom while trying to hide from the rest of the football team trying to give him a hard time, only to find Fabian and some girl making out on some poor teacher’s desk. His memory of the girl is nothing more pale skin fading to a blur-like haze in the back of his mind, but his memory of the lines of Fabian’s body is still as crisp and vivid as freshly drawn chalk outlines in a crime scene.
It sets off something within Riz, some sort of sexual awakening or some other coming of age movie trope shit, and he tries to stuff it back down because he doesn’t really wanna think about it that much. It was pure dumb luck that he managed to sneak in and out without anyone noticing, because he didn’t need more people giving him a hard time as it is.
He didn’t even know he was gay back then, which is you know, fair . He’s like a stereotypical gay guy with abandon issues, but from that point on, his (relatively short) list of flings fall under some jock-type casting call in some B-rated teen movie. It’s honestly hell, like Riz is some sort of hopeless romantic pining after someone unattainable, when in reality it’s really just all just hormones, right? please for the love of god someone tell him he’s right
He needs to schedule a study date with Adaine soon, because he feels like he’s about to fall apart at any second without someone slapping some sort of sense in him. He feels restless, like he’s on the tail end of unraveling a case, like he’s about to go off on a hair trigger. He’s probably gonna download tinder again sometime soon, because honestly, he can not deal.
Fabian throws his head back at something someone said, and Riz stares harder at the words on the papers in his lap.
A middle aged man approaches the counter, “I’ll get three large cortados, with one of them squeezed with a bit of lemon.”
It’s far from the most complicated and ridiculous order of coffee he’s ever made, but it does make his eyebrows go up, and makes him stare dumbfounded at the man ordering it for a beat too long, “ Squeezed with lemon , sir?”.
The man looks slightly annoyed with him and Riz can see that the man tries to stand up a bit straighter, trying to put on the ‘ if you don’t do this I’ll want to speak with your manager’ aura, but it only serves to make Riz notice the white-ish stains near the collar of his polo shirt, “I know what I’m ordering young man.”
Riz already has a marker poised over the cup and asks, “Name?”
“Gilear.”
He doesn’t let the older man notice the spark of recognition that lights up in Riz’s brain, hands steady while writing down the name in neat block letters on the cup.
Holy shit was this the guy her mom tried to date?
He knows how lonely she might feel from time to time with just them two in the apartment, but seeing the man up close makes even Riz feel sorry for his mom.
He’s never met this man, has only heard of him in passing, but the things he’s heard are...not great. Not enough of a douchebag to warrant the usual Private Investigator schtick from Riz, but he doesn’t need to be a private eye to notice his mom’s wince when the voice mail plays and Gilear’s voice pops up. She’s sort of happily dating the football coach of the college team right now, so it’s not really his business, but Riz doesn’t like to he surprised with information he should know.
Gilear hands over the cash, and kinda shuffles over to the claiming counter, and that’s when he sees Fabian glaring daggers at the back of Gilear’s head. Riz catches Fabian’s eyes, and Fabian, the cheeky little shit that he is, winks at him. It’s a weird sensation, being seen or noticed, and suddenly he feels separate from his body, feels the warmth spread across his face, all blotchy and awkward.
As he hands over Gilear’s order, the older man snatches the one with lemon in it and drinks it with gusto, and it takes all that is holy to keep the look of horror and judgement off his face. He shares a look with Fabian, and feels relieved that he wasn’t the only one horrified by that display.
Fabian gets this look while staring at Riz’s general direction, shakes his head, and suddenly stands up and walks toward the register, looking intent on doing something . The rest of the team looks at Fabian, then looks over to Riz, and their faces light up. Some of them clap Fabian’s shoulders and push him towards the register, and judging from Fabian’s small smile, it’s all good-natured ribbing. It wasn’t until Ragh Barkrock, one of the guys that handed him a flyer for the QSA, catches Riz’s attention and gives him a toothy grin and a thumbs up, that Riz’s intuition whacks him underside his head.
Oh.
OH.
He’s going to talk to you, stupid. Riz can’t really do anything else but to quietly panic in his seat. Fabian’s in front of him now, hands in his denim jean pockets, looking at him with quiet intensity. It’s weird seeing him this quiet and close. Just as Fabian opens his mouth, the door slams open.
It’s...Gilear?
Gilear looks like a mess, face pale and polo shirt sweat soaked. He runs up to the register, clutching a half-torn receipt on one hand. Riz has one of his hands near the store’s telephone, and the other reaching for the secret compartment underneath the counter. ”Uh, sir? Do you need any help?”
“Y-young man, may I have the code to the bathroom? It seems as my stomach did not agree with the cortado I drank earlier...”
Riz sighs in relief that it’s nothing serious, takes pity on the man and gives him his employee pass. Gilear snatches it and darts toward the bathrooms. They hear the door slam shut, and for a moment everyone in the cafe is quiet, curiously looking at where Gilear went to. Fabian drags his hand across his face, clearly frustrated in being interrupted. Riz gives Fabian a small smile that he returns, and suddenly everything settles down again, and they’re back to awkwardly-looking-but-not-really-looking-looking at each other.
“So…”
They haven’t even exchanged proper words to each other when they hear a yelp followed by a thud and sudden silence in the bathroom. Fabian looks mutinously at the bathroom door, and Riz feels the same, cause you know, they're kinda having a moment here, but he's also at work, so he composes himself and smiles at Fabian, "Let's talk later?".
Fabian's irritation seems to fizzle out at Riz's words, grins and shrugs. Before he makes a move to walk away, he slips a paper napkin with something written on it onto the counter. Riz turns it over, and reads.
Call me? xxx-xxxxx
When Fabian gets back to their table, Riz totally ignores the few whistles and catcalls. Not even the alarming appearance of a puddle of water at the bottom of the bathroom door can ruin his mood.