Chapter Text
“So, what are everyone’s Saturday evening plans?”
Rick blurts excitedly, breaking the bored silence of the living room.
“Oh… y’know, the usual…” Neil replies slowly. Rick sighs.
“Yes- yes, we do know Neil, nothing, the same every week. The same every day…” He responds, shaking his head.
“I’ve got a date - I’ve scored with this lovely bird actually —“
“Also, the same thing every week, Mike!” Rick shouts at Mike, seated at the kitchen table, digging into a book titled, “The Art of Flirtation and Flattery.” He wonders what that could be about.
“Gosh you lot are boring! I bet you that Vyvyan’s Saturday evening plans consist of…” he pauses. “of… er… blowing up things! I mean honestly, as a random guy myself, it is hard to surround myself with you all.” He says, with a snort and tut.
“What are you doing then, Rick?” Vyvyan asks, causing everyone to turn towards Rick standing proudly in the middle of the room. All of them have the same question.
“Well, I thought you uncultured simpletons would NEVER ask me! I’m going to a chess club!” He bragged, looking underneath his fingernails. Everyone sighed, annoyed (and nobody seemed to be at the slightest impressed with his brag).
“That sounds like a complete and utter nightmare. I can’t think if anything worse I could be doing on a Saturday night.” Laughed Vyvyan from his spot on their smaller-than-average sofa. Rick looked up from his nails and gawked at him.
“Excuse me? This is a very proper sport, you know.” He places his hands on his hips and turns his head to the side with an attitude, as if trying to muffle the impact of his next request.
“Besides, I need a lift there in your car.”
Vyvyan’s face screws up with anger and he shuffles to his feet.
“AS IF!!! There is absolutely NO WAY I am taking you to your girly toy club or whatever it is.” It appears that isn’t the response that Rick needed, and his eyes widen with concern, thinking of ways he can attempt to convince him.
“Wh—“ He stutters, “Please do Vyvyan! I really need to go. I’ll let you set my bed on fire every day for a week if you do!” He steps slowly nearer to the sofa. Vyvyan does not speak, but grunts angrily whilst glancing to the ground.
“Oh for goodness sake Vyvyan, just take him to his chess club, it will get him out of the house for a few hours.” Mike wisely intervenes, hand rising to point at them. The corner of Vyvyan’s lip curls for a mere split second, whilst his gaze remains on the ground.
“You have to be in the bed whilst I set it on fire then,” Rick’s face lightens as Vyvyan starts, ignoring the threat made, “and you’ll have to call a taxi to get home, I’m not bloody picking you up.”
He turns around and sits back down on the sofa, arms crossed as his gaze returns to the television. He is completely oblivious to the faint, “yes!”, Rick mutters under his breath as he begins to walk away upstairs. He is, however, not oblivious to the statement he adds on as he leaves;
“It starts in 20 minutes, by the way.”
And so here they were. In Vyvyan’s car. Where they had been for the past 15 minutes, driving to the hall that was a 5 minute drive away. Where Vyvyan would preferably be necking vodka from the bottle, smashing in the bathroom window, or eating as many of SPG’s treats as he could before being violently sick. But no. He was driving Rick to his sissy chess club, on a pitch black evening in December. Might he add that, he also had no fucking clue where he was going, and was driving based off of Rick’s useless directions.
“Err.. The map says there’s a circle coming up, so you just drive through that I believe…”
“Rick. That’s a roundabout.” Vyvyan clutches the steering wheel tighter, clenching his teeth.
“Ah, right, whatever one of those are.” He tuts. “So once you go past the roundabout-thingy, you turn right and then left and the hall should be there..”
“Where do I turn off the roundabout?”
“What on earth do you mean ‘turn off’? You go straight through. Seriously Vyvyan, I might as well have driven myself there!” Rick snorts, glancing at Vyvyan to his right. Vyvyan was looking blankly ahead, unchanged expression. “Honestly, I could be there by now!”
“That’s it.” Vyvyan muttered.
He swung the steering wheel sharply left, turning down an unknown street. The turn was so abrupt, Rick slid sideways in his seat, due to their speed.
“What the rrwuddy heck do you think you’re doing?!! Stop the car NOW!!”
“No, Rick,” Vyvyan chuckles, staring ahead into the road. “This is a load of bollocks—“ He quickly looks over to Rick shaking his head angrily. “No, it is, isn’t it though?”
“Yes Vyvyan, it IS bollocks, but it is BOLLOCKS that I CARE ABOUT! And don’t you dare say ‘ooer’ to that.”
Vyvyan makes a right turn down another street in the city, before continuing;
“You bloody care about everything though! I could start a club for the lint in my jean’s pockets and you’d be PRANCING around with badges dedicated to it all over you!”
“I WOULD NOT!” Rick screws up the map in his hand whilst throwing it down at his feet.
“YOU WOULD!”
Rick doesn’t respond for a while, and Vyvyan glances over at him again quickly. He’s looking out of the windows in confusion.
“Vyvyan, where ARE we going?”
He doesn’t answer his question and keeps driving, making occasional turns and changing lanes from time to time.
“Vyvyan..?!”
“I’m taking you to a place of REAL culture. None of that poncy chess stuff.”
Rick snorts and leans back in the car seat, folding his arms.
“You, cultured? As if! You couldn’t even name a single song by Bob Dylan if I asked you to!”
“Yeah cause he’s a poof and anyone who listens to that music is poofy!”
“Bob Dylan is NOT a poof— he was a geniu—“
“I don’t give a TOSS RICK! WE’RE GOING TO A NIGHTCLUB OKAY?”
Rick stays silent for 10 seconds. Then chuckles quietly. Then bursts into laughter.
“So you’re telling me, Mr, Cultured-Basterd here, is going to take us to a nightclub?”
“Yes I am. And not just any nightclub, a trendy new one.”
Rick fake gasps; “Well I never! Trendy-hip-cultured-Basterd now?”
“Give it a rest.” Vyvyan says, driving down a final street before pulling into a carpark next to a vibrant looking building. The sign on the front said, ‘Pink Flamingo’. The name was familiar, but the two couldn’t quite figure it out. Vyvyan stopped the engine of the car and reached for the car door, but was interrupted.
“Vyvyan?”
He reluctantly looked back at Rick, still sat in his seat, fidgeting with his hands.
“What?”
“ivenvebreeninganighthcblfubbefore” he whispered, looking away.
“Speak up, christ.”
“ivebbebjenevejnineienabrnihhtbldud”
“YOU WHAT?”
“I’VE NEVER BEEN TO A NIGHTCLUB BEFORE!” Rick yelled, looking over to Vyvyan frustratedly.
“Well, yeah. I don’t think I was really convinced otherwise..” He started reaching for the door handle again.
“I’M NERVOUS THOUGH! WHAT IF SOMEONE BEATS ME UP!”
“You can stay here then. It might make my night a bit better if you aren’t with me in there actually!”
“Vyvyan.” Rick looks at him with an annoyed expression and the two don’t say anything. Vyvyan’s idea of a night out with Rick had made him feel sick with dread for as long as he had known him, but on this particular night he felt like he would be ‘kind’. But even thinking of that word made him throw up in his mouth. However, they were already parked outside the club, so there was no going back. If anything went wrong, or Rick was further destroying their social status, he could always just find a barstool or bottle to smash over his head.
“What? I’m only doing this for you out of pity, we can’t have you ruining our reputation entirely by showing your face at that chess club.”
“Wow, you’re soooo kind, aren’t you. If you weren’t as ugly and spotty as you are then I’d be under the impression you’re my fairy godmother that’s come to bless me tonight with so-called, ‘culture’.” Rick replies sarcastically, folding his arms.
“Get out my car.” Vyvyan orders. “And stand at least 10 feet away from me as we walk in, I genuinely cannot be seen with you.” He adds.
The two of them leave the car, Vyvyan locking it with his key. And then they enter the nightclub.