#richfoyle

Richard is an idiot. He always knew it. It's gotten him in trouble before and it was gonna get him in trouble again. He just didn't know when or where until it bit him in the ass.

Richard should have gone home with Bighead. Fuck, he should have accepted Bighead's offer to drive him to his apartment. Instead, he had to stay for another drink and stare into space as he normally did. Apparently, he stared into space right at another dude. This dude got the wrong idea and started hitting on Richard.

Richard had told him that he wasn't interested. He had told him that he had a boyfriend, that he couldn't accept his offers even if he wanted to. But the guy just kept getting more and more pushy and here Richard was now, 7 blocks away from the bar and the guy was behind him.

He had been following Richard. Richard was freaking out.

He threw the occasional glance over his shoulder and *fuck* the guy's still there.

Richard had tried texting someone but his fucking cellphone was dead and fuck him. He should have charged it before going to the bar.

Was this how Richard was going to die? Murdered at the hands of some pushy fuck boy, thinking over all of his regrets? Seemed accurate enough.

Will he be on the news? He hoped they picked a flattering photo to show the public when they announce his murder to the city. Fuck, he wasn't going to die, was he?

Richard tried to keep his breathing steady. The last thing he needed to do was lose himself in a panic attack and be paralyzed from fear.

Another glance over his shoulder. Another desperate cuss word said under his breath. He's never been followed before.

Was he even being followed? Maybe the guy lived around this neighborhood. Richard knew that was probably unlikely.

And then Richard saw it. A phone booth. Thank Jesus fucking Christ. He quickened his pace and was suddenly in a mad sprint across a parking lot to get to his last hope.

The phone booth was situated next to a small shop, the shop unfortunately closed for the night. But the phone booth was open, to Richard's utter relief. He flung the door open and shut it with a bang, turning the lock behind him. There were two windows, one on his left and right side. He risked a glance out the left window. He straightened up when he saw no one. He turned his head and no one was out there either. Perhaps Richard was just being paranoid? He looked through both windows carefully. He saw no one. Perhaps the guy had given up and left. Still, Richard should call for someone to pick him up. He reached and hastily grabbed the quarters from his pocket. Richard shoved them through the slot haphazardly, praying that his fingers would stop trembling long enough to get this done. Eventually, he had enough in for a call and he grabbed the phone.

Just to realize he didn't know anyone's numbers. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He looked down at the phone book,  and groaned inwardly at having to flip through the god damn thing to find Bighead's number. He quickly skimmed through it, stopping when he found Nelson Bighetti's name. He had begun punching the numbers into the phone when he looked to his right and saw the guy at the edge of the parking lot.

Richard almost dropped the phone. Damn, he was an idiot when he was scared. He pushed the rest of the numbers in and prayed Bighead would pick up.

The phone rang twice until it was picked up. Richard was rocking on his feet at this point, biting his lips, and staring at the body stood menacingly at the edge of the parking lot. "Hello?"

"Bighead?! God, please I need you to pick me up-"

"You looking for Bighead?" That wasn't Bighead's voice.

"Oh god, you're not Bighead?" Fuck. Shit. Shit fuck.

"I'm not. Wrong number. Bye-"

"WAIT!" Richard almost shouted, surprising him. "Please! I-I need s-s-someone right now, please. I'm being followed and I'm in a phone booth but the guy is nearby, and I'm so scared, please! I know we don't know each other but I really, really, really, need someone to come get me, I'm all alone and you're my only hope, please, just help me, I'll pay you, I just...please."  Richard had not meant to word-vomit all over this stranger but fuck, he was desperate. The guy was walking towards him slowly, and it terrified Richard.

There was a moment of silence. Richard held his breath. Finally, the stranger spoke. "Alright, I'm not a dick. Where are you? I'm coming to get you." Richard could have started crying right there.

"I'm at the phone booth at J-Jane's Florals. D-do you need street names?"

"No, I don't. My friend, Jared, goes there all the fucking time. I'll be there in about 10 minutes."

"Please don't hang up! I-I know I'm already asking a lot from b-b-but I don't think I can make it without someone e-else here."

"I won't hang up." The stranger's voice was soothing and calm. It was a deep rumble, very monotone. Richard sank to the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest. He stared bleakly at the man standing over him, separated only by glass and metal. The man stood, waiting. Clearly, he knew Richard couldn't stay there forever.

"What's your name?" Richard brought his attention back to the phone. He needed to remain calm.

"Richard. Richard Hendricks. What's yours?" He squeaked. That's embarrassing.

"Gilfoyle." There was silence for a few more seconds, aside from Richard's panicked breathing. "Is the guy super close?"

"Y-yes. He's right next to the booth and he can see me in here. Oh god, oh god, Gilfoyle, he's right there..."

"Stay calm. Panicking won't help anyone. Show this guy you aren't scared of him."

"Okay...okay...I'm fine." He gulped, and took a deep breath. Richard looked up at the man, staring pleadingly into his brown eyes. "Please, y-y-you're scaring me! Leave me alone!"

"That's not exactly what I had in mind, but whatever works for you," Gilfoyle murmured.

"Look." The man spoke, his voice slightly deeper than the lighthearted tone he had back at the bar. "We got off on the wrong foot, Richie. Let's put it behind us, how about that?"

"Go away!" Richard pushed himself further against the wall. "Please!"

"C'mon, baby, don't be like that..." the man's eyes gleamed with something that Richard didn't like.

"Fuck you!" He spat, shaking. "Leave me alone! I have a boyfriend!"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Let me at least give you my number, baby." The man leaned against the edge of the booth, tipping his head to the side. Richard hated it.

"Go away!"

"You're talking to him, Richard?" It was his sarcastic savior again.

"He's still here, Gilfoyle. Nothing is making him leave!" Richard looked back up at man, defiant. "My boyfriend will kick your ass! He's scary looking!" Empty threats weren't exactly Richard's style, but he was getting desperate.

Richard heard a chuckle from the phone. "Terrifying. I'm almost there, by the way."

"Please hurry, oh god, please."

"I am." Richard's heart was racing, he felt himself going into a panic.

No, he couldn't allow that. Not when he had to be calm for his own good. Keep it together, Richard. Keep it together.

"I'm Cody, by the way."

"I don't care! I don't care, leave me alone!"

"Why do you make this so hard?!" Cody slammed his hand against the glass, making Richard flinch and yelp.

"G-go away!"

"Hey, fuck off from my boyfriend." The line suddenly went dead. Cody whipped around, and put his hands up. He began backing away from the phone booth. A pair of hands reached out and grabbed Cody by the collar, pulling him out of Richard's sight.

Richard heard a cry of pain and scuffing feet. Then, he looked up to see a bearded man standing in front of the window. He looked down at Richard, his expression unreadable.

"You're Richard?" Richard nodded, too shaken to say anything.

"I'm Gilfoyle. Come out, I'll take you to your home."

Richard slowly stood, his knees shaking, and he unlocked the door. He pushed it open and turned to look at Gilfoyle.

"Fuck, thank you. Oh god, I just...thank you, I don't know what I could have done." Richard got a closer look at Gilfoyle. The first thing he noticed was how handsome his rescuer was. He wore glasses and Richard noticed the tattoos on his bicep. Shit, he looked scary.

"I just did what I thought was right." Gilfoyle didn't say much at one time, did he?

"I'm glad." Richard got in on the passenger side of the beat up Camry parked close to the booth. He noticed the pentagram charm dangling from the front mirror and he tended up. Had he traded one murderer for another?

Gilfoyle looked at him, seemingly amused. "Don't worry. I'm a LaVeyan Satanist, not a murderer."

Oh.

"S-Satanism?"

"Yeah. Where do you live?" Gilfoyle jammed his key into the ignition and he began to back out of the parking lot.

"The Eastwood apartment complex." Richard stared at the pentagram, slightly intrigued. He wasn't a very religious man himself, but he was curious.

Gilfoyle chuckled, snapping Richard's attention back to him. "That's where I live." What are the odds?

"Oh, wow." What a coincidence. (author's note: this is corny as hell but let me Dream)

"Huh." Richard nodded, unsure of how to respond. Gilfoyle didn't seemed bothered, he just stared ahead at the road.

There was something nagging at the back of Richard's mind. He was nervous to make it awkward but he desperately wanted to ask.

"Gilfoyle?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you refer to me as my boyfriend to that guy?" Richard inwardly cringed. He shouldn't have said anything. He should have just let it go.

Gilfoyle didn't react much though. "I think your description of a scary boyfriend would fit me well enough, so I just used it. The guy was more likely to run if he thought I had large stakes here."

"Oh." Richard looked out the window, inwardly sighing with relief.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Richard turned, a bit surprised. Nobody ever asked him that. Richard chuckled, Gilfoyle raised an eyebrow.

"Uh...I don't. I mean," Richard gestured at himself. "Look at me. Do you really think guys would wanna date me? Besides that creep." Richard continued to laugh quietly, until-

"Of course they'd wanna date you. You're attractive." Richard tensed up and stared at Gilfoyle.

"I...what?"

"You're an attractive guy. People would be stupid not to see it." Gilfoyle said this all so matter-of factly, as if it was obvious.

"You don't have to lie-"

"I'm not lying. I've nothing to gain out of lying. You're attractive, at least to me." Richard was gobsmacked.

"Oh. Well...thank you." He wasn't used to being complimented, at least on his physical appearance. Gilfoyle didn't reply.

They went the rest of the way in silence, Richard replaying the evening over and over in his head.

Gilfoyle was so...odd. He said things that you don't often say to a person you met about 20 minutes ago. And he said it all in monotone, as if it was all how things were supposed to be. Richard admired that, to be that carefree.

Perhaps that's why, as they pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building, Richard turned around and opened his mouth.

"Can I take you out for a drink sometime?" Gilfoyle stopped and turned to face Richard. Richard held his breath again.

"Sure." Richard smiled, relieved and feeling thrilled. He'd gone out of his comfort zone for the first time in years and it felt amazing. "What's your number?"

Richard gave it as Gilfoyle put it into his contacts. Gilfoyle looked up at Richard and tipped his head.

"I normally wouldn't do this but there's something about you." Richard was taken aback.

"That's what I was thinking myself!Well, I hope we don't regret it," Richard chuckled, feeling awkward. Gilfoyle mercifully nodded.