Chapter Text
bzzz
…
bzzz bzzz
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bzzz bzzz… bzzz bzzz bzzz!!!
“Okay, okay okay okay.” Ryland finally pulls his cell from his pocket, where he’d been successfully ignoring it all morning.
First, he ignored it as he graded papers, sitting cross-legged on his couch, finishing his second… no wait, third, cup of coffee, cocooned in a quilt which his class of graduating students sweetly made for him last year. (It was a prized possession. He loved all of his students, but he had to admit some classes pulled on his heart strings more than others, and last year’s had been one of those.)
Then, he continued to ignore it as his stomach reminded him loudly that he really must eat food to sustain himself, which led him to the kitchen for a quick breakfast (a banana which probably would have been better off baked in bread, and a pack of pop-tarts. This week’s flavor: Iced Strawberry, a classic.) Finishing one pastry quickly, he grabbed his backpack and headed out the front door, bike in tow, remaining pop-tart in mouth, and banana unfortunately in the pocket of his rain jacket. (He would discover later what made this unfortunate when his hand finds it there, forgotten…. and rather squishy.)
By this point, the phone buzzing was untenable. He knew it was Rocky, and he knew what he wanted. It was Adrian’s birthday weekend, and they were planning a night out on the town. Rocky expressed in no uncertain terms that Ryland would be there, and be enthusiastic about it. He also had some choice words about his outfit selection. While cardigans were fine in the classroom, and hell, even fine for their annual science conference trips, he was very clear that they were decidedly “NOT fine for a gay club, Grace!”
Grace, you haven’t confirmed tonight
Ryland Grace….
Dri will be heartbroken if you miss this :(
Interesting. He’s opted for the guilt method. Not his normal approach.
And no excuses! Don’t tell me again that you're too old
42 is hardly too old for the club scene
One could argue otherwise…
Especially when you’re there with your younger, much hipper friends
Pfft, Rock was barely a year younger than Ryland!
Don’t forget that I know where you live. And work. And hang out. Which to be fair is mostly where you work and live. That and the library. I will find you and you won’t live long enough to regret it!!!
Threats. There we go, that’s more his usual style.
Don’t make me FaceTime you….
Ryland had just read the last text when his screen lit up with the threatened video call. He stopped walking his bike to answer.
“Good morning Rocky!” Ry answered the call cheerily, with a little wave. Like he hadn’t purposely avoided this conversation for the latter half of the week.
Rocky’s face filled the screen, so close most of his tall grey-streaked hair was out of frame “Grace! You DO live. I was this close to sending out the search party.” He held up two fingers, pressed tightly together. “Let me guess, you’ve been soooo busy.” He deadpans, then looks around Ryland’s setting, somehow getting closer to the screen. Ry had started walking again, holding the phone in one hand, steering the bike with his other. “Are you on the way to the library? I knew it! Ryland this is exactly why you need to come out tonight! You need to meet people. Make new friends. Get laid.”
“Rock! Jeez, you don’t need to keep beating a dead horse. Where did that saying come from anyway? Did people actually beat horses until, and then after, they died? So much so that they created a turn of phrase. It’s morbid if you really think about it. I should look that up…” Ryland heard a frustrated huff. “Okay, yes sorry, back on track. Okay, okay, fine, yes. I will go! Tonight.” An excited squeal rang out from his phone. “I will go, but this is for Adrian. Not you! You’re a menace. No, really, I love Dri and we never get a chance to hang out, what with our schedules the way they are, and if this is how they want to spend their 39th birthday, then I will be there!” A pause to allow for excited whoops. Ryland rolled his eyes affectionately. “I really don’t have anything to wear, you know. You banned half of my wardrobe!”
“Oh, that’s easy. Just pick out one of your old dorky science t-shirts and throw on a clean pair of jeans. Tight ones that make your ass look good. Done. Easy. I can’t wait to tell Adrian. They will be so excited!”
“Those shirts are all from college! They barely fit and are worn thin.”
Rocky looked at him skeptically, eyebrow cocked, for a full beat. “You really can’t be that dense. That is the point! You’ll look hot. This is so great. Okay, gotta go. I’m taking Dri to their favorite cafe for lunch, then some shopping before we get ready for the night. See you there, don’t be late. By-eee!”
The call ended and Ryland stared at his phone’s home screen (a picture of his orange tabby Noodles, sleeping upside down on his couch, her head smooshed into the cushion.) He’d stopped walking at some point, head dropped to his chest, he let out a sigh. He could do this. Right?
~~~
Grace couldn’t do this. He stood in front of a full-length mirror, which he had rescued from a pile of clothes forgotten in a corner of his bedroom. His head tilted from side to side. Assessing. In addition to the mirror, he unearthed a dusty box of old t-shirts he hadn’t seen for, what was it now, close to twenty years? That can’t be right… Can it? Jeez, what was he even doing? His eyes darted longingly to his closet full of comfy cardigans and loose button ups. He shook his head. Nope, that was not the assignment.
After some trial, and much error, including popping the seams out of what was once his favorite t-shirt, he settled on the dark blue, “I wear this shirt periodically” tee, the image of the periodic table of elements stretching across his chest. After folding up the cuffs a couple of times, the sleeves hugged his arms tightly. And paired with the tight, light-wash jeans he picked out, he had to admit that critically, he must not look half bad… right? He had a hard time judging himself, he just knew everything felt a bit too tight. He’d really filled out since his college years, mostly muscle (the one thing he did do for himself semi-regularly was go to the gym, for his mental health more than anything.) But he had gone a little soft around the middle in recent years. He blamed the pop-tarts.
He also felt a bit too old. Really, he had no idea how to socialize at his age… heck maybe he never did. Rocky had been his roommate in college, and with Rock, he didn’t have to try. He accepted Ry without question, and honestly didn’t give him much of a choice in the matter of their friendship. Ryland didn’t mind of course, he loved Rocky despite his- no scratch that, because of his eccentricities. Later, when Adrian came into Rocky’s life, Ryland felt immediately at ease and never like a third wheel. It all happened so naturally, but now as a full-grown adult, socializing with new people was not a skill he developed, or really something he prioritized. And to do it at a club of all places!
A sigh escaped his lungs in a warm puff. Turning back to the mirror he ran fingers through unruly blonde waves. He didn’t have it in him to make them behave. Pushing his glasses to the top of his head, Ry decided he was as ready as he was going to be. If he lingered or overthought this any longer he would never leave, and he was already running behind.
Toeing on a pair of new(ish) black Converse, he double checked that his Uber was pulling up, and sealed himself mentally as he slipped out into the cool night air.
~~~
“AHHHHH Grace!!! There he is!” a face peeked out from the crowded line leading to the club entrance, quaffed hair bouncing and hands waving over-enthusiastically. “Over heeeere!”
Ryland made his way hesitantly to his friends, about a third of the way up the line. He was worried about “cutting,” which was a silly thought. They were adults. No one was going to get mad at him. He just wasn’t sure what the social protocol was for situations like this.
One hand in his pocket, the other scratching the back of his head, he greeted his friends. “Hey Rock, Dri, sorry I’m late.” Towering above the throng, Adrian stood almost a foot taller than Grace, who himself measured in at 6’. You couldn’t let their height fool you though, they were one of the most gentle souls you’ll ever meet. Tonight, their long braided locks were tied together loosely with turquoise and white ribbons, accented with metal beads that tinkled gently whenever they turned their head. The metal tinkling continued by way of jewelry adorning their ears, neck, upper arm, wrists, fingers, waist and even ankles! It brought to mind armor, while also feeling delicate paired with their flowy white linen top and pants. Not the typical clubbing attire, but Dri did not look at all out of place.
“Hello Ryland. No worries, the line really only started moving. I’m so glad you could make it.” Adrian smiled warmly, soft voice, almost musical. Grace wondered, not for the first time, at what an odd pair his two best friends made.
As if on cue, “Daaaamn Grace, you really do clean up nice! I didn’t know you were hiding these guns under all your normal layers.” Rocky poked a bicep twice for emphasis. While the shortest of the trio, Rocky’s personality never made him seem small. His chosen outfit for the evening was understated and classy; fitted brown leather jacket over a tight black tee and cuffed, dark jeans. The brown leather belt and boots matched so nicely that Grace became once again self-conscious of his vintage shirt and scuffed sneakers.
“Please don’t make me immediately regret coming.” Grace whined, immediately regretting coming.
“Dear, you promised to be on your best behavior. This is new for Ryland, give him space. But he is right, you know.” Adrian turned to Ry. “You look fucking hot.”
Ry’s cheeked pinked at the compliment but luckily the line really did pick up speed at that point. Everyone’s attention shifted toward the building ahead where two large men bracketed the main doors, checking IDs and bags while ushering the crowd forward smoothly.
The line naturally split as they reached the entrance, and somehow Ryland ended up at a different bouncer than his two friends.
“ID” the man grunted, barely looking in Ryland’s direction, long dark hair obstructing half of his face. Ryland fumbled the card as he handed it over, even though he’d pulled it out ahead of time specifically to not be flustered. He was admittedly a little distracted as he thought he saw the nose of a dog poking out from under the stool the large man leaned against. “Any bags?” another grunt as the bouncer glanced over Ry’s ID card.
“Wha- Uh, no.. No bags.” Ryland stammered, returning his attention to the imposing figure in front of him. Clearly Ry didn’t have a bag. This guy didn’t even look up at him to confirm his photo matched his face! Ryland bristled and he wasn’t sure why.
“Right. Here you go.” One dark brown eye flicked to meet blue for just a second as he handed back the card, fingers brushed. Instantly, heat flooded Ry's cheeks. Then loudly, “Next!”
Ryland had been dismissed.
And he was pissed.