(closed for @waveofthehand but thanks for checking it out :D)
The night outside was chilly but the sky was clear. Ricky hopped off his skateboard and grabbed it outside the cafe, stepped off to one side and setting it into his backpack, zipping it up. The top wheels stuck out a bit, but the board would be out of the way. He shouldered his backpack again and headed inside, glancing about the place.
It was nearly full at this time of night, everybody wanting something to keep them warm, cool, or awake. Ricky sniffled from the chill outside and made his way over to stand inside, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. The lad standing in front of him held onto a massive book, and it looked as if he couldn't quite get a hold of it. Ricky quirked an eyebrow but managed to suppress his smirk by biting his lip. Don't they make fancy eBooks nowadays for that? The line moved up one, but the guy still had his nose in the book, having somehow managed to fumble about and turn the page, and Ricky just couldn't resist talking with him.
"Crammin' fer an exam?" he asked the stranger, light as a feather and polite.
Mitochondrial analysis promises to be the next frontier in--
Alex jumped, startled by the voice behind him. The book tumbled out of his hands and landed face-down on the tiled cafe floor. The angry Mandrill monkey on the cover of Recent Advances in Evolutionary Biology stared back at him, fangs bared. He cursed under his breath as he bent over to pick it up, praying it hadn't landed in a puddle of coffee.
"Something like that," he mumbled to the still-unseen stranger behind him as he examined the pages of the book for damage.
Ricky found himself leaning back on his heels, raising his eyebrows. "Right..." It looked like the stranger had it all under control, so Ricky didn't bother bending down to help him. The monkey on the cover was...a little alarming, but Ricky could appreciate the color scheme.
"What're ya studyin', t'en? Science 'n t'ings?" He probably should just let the guy read on in piece, seeing how nervous he was, but something about that made Ricky want to talk to him more. Maybe help him calm down, a little.
Alex jerked his head back up, shaken out of his concern for his book by the stranger's voice. It was a beautiful voice with a simply enchanting accent. He pushed his thick-rimmed glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose to get a good look at him.
Oh...oh no, he's extremely hot.
Alex felt his face turn deep scarlet even as he opened his mouth to answer. "Y-yeah. Evolutionary biology. At USF--um, the University of San Francisco."
The guy had a massive flush looking at him, and Ricky didn't even bother to hide his toothy smirk in response. USF?
"A bio man! I go teh USF s'well, fer Information Technology. I'm graduatin' here in a couple'a weeks, actually, but small world, huh? T'ought t'ere'd be a mix o' students 'round here, but..." He eyed the guy's book and gestured to it. "Didn' mean teh startle ya, by t'way. Name's Ricky." He held out his hand, even though the line was moving up another few people behind the guy.
Alex shuffled the thick textbook, feeling awkward as he stuffed it under his arm. It pressed against his ribs as he thrust out his hand. "Alex," he said as he shook Ricky's hand. It was soft and warm, which probably meant that his own was cold and rough. "I'm a grad student. So it'll be a while before I graduate," he said, laughing weakly.
"Ohh, see," he took his hand back and had his hands back in his pockets quick as he could, "I t'ought about goin' t'at route, but I figured my degree's good enough fer me, it should be good fer t'e workin' world s'well!" He nodded. "T'at's smart of ya, t'ough. Biology's got lotsa complex t'ings worth learnin'. Ya goin' fer a Doctorate, t'en?"
"Yeah," Alex said. "I just finished my Masters last semester, and--"
"Sir?" The barista called out to him. "Are you ready to order?"
"Oh!" Alex whirled around, his messenger bag smacking against the wooden display of mugs and bags of coffee. The stand rattled, but Alex said a silent thanks that nothing fell over. "Yes, I--could I please have a maple latte?"
The barista nodded and rang him up. He.knew he was supposed to go wait by the other counter, but he hovered around the register anyway, for...no reason in particular. His cheeks were burning as he watched Ricky walk up to the counter too. He was probably wasting his time, the guy was probably just trying to make conversation to pass the time in line...
"What can I get you?" the barista asked Ricky.
Ricky reflexively reached out toward the stand anyway, a sympathetic smile sliding across his features. He shook his head after the shaking stopped and waited his turn, then gave the lad a look as he walked up to the counter, an amused smile.
"Pint o' the black stuff, Sam, if ya please. Y'know, if I were t'say that back in Ireland--"
"They'd hand you a pint of beer, I know." The barista took his credit card from him and swiped it with a smile.
"Oh," Ricky retorted, "sorry, have ya heard t'at one before?"
"Yeah," she said, "from /you/. Black coffee it is." She handed his card back and Ricky pulled out his wallet to place it back inside.
"Yer Masters?" He continued with Alex, as if they hadn't paused. He set his hand on the guy's upper arm and said, "Let's move on and chat over t'is way, shall we?"
Ricky's hand was warm even through Alex's sweater. He managed to suppress a shiver, though just barely, as Ricky steered them over to the pick-up counter.
"Yeah, well, you know...you have to finish your masters before they let you sit for PhD qualifying exams, and. Well, I got through it as fast as I could, but it still took me a year and a half. I'm sitting quals in a few months, so I've just been cramming nonstop, and..." He paused to take a breath, suddenly remembering what his therapist had told him about making conversation. Both people have to get a chance to talk, Alex, she'd said, in that gently admonishing tone of hers. "You're about to finish your bachelor's?" he asked.
Hearing this lad-- Alex-- talk was exactly like visiting his parents back home. No words in edge-wise and absolutely too fast for anybody else to understand them.
"I t'ink at t'e rate yer goin', you'll do jus' fine wit' yer exams." He became aware of his board in his bag, the weight of it against his back. Ricky rolled his shoulders. "I am, t'nks for rememberin'. S'only been about four years, but it feels like it's been ages, really. Have ya been studyin' here t'is whole time? I'm a transfer student meself." Somebody tried to move around them for their drink that Ricky hadn't even heard been called. Must've been from earlier. He leaned out of their way with a small nod.
"I went to undergrad in Georgia, where I grew up. But I got out of there as fast as I could," Alex said with a weak chuckle. His cheeks were still burning and now Ricky was leaning towards him, just moving out of the way of another customer, but he was closer than before and Alex was acutely aware of it. "And then I got an assistantship here, and I've always wanted to come to San Francisco, so...it just made sense."
Ricky nodded to show he was listening, his wide smile turning into something gentler. "Yeah, t'is is a great city, isn't it? I've visited a couple'a places on the east coast, but.." He shrugged his shoulders, "I jus' like t'e feel o't'is place.
Okay, now, follow up on something he said...gotta keep it going or he'll get bored and stop talking to me... "Where did you transfer from?" Alex said.
“I studied for a year a Cork Institute of Technology? It's a pretty big place, but I got t'e opportunity teh exchange over here, an' now..." Ricky shrugged, "I been here about t'ree years, now, I figured I might s'well stay fer a little while. America's got /lots/ of t'ings we don't have back in Ireland."
"Me!" Alex said, too loudly. He reached for the coffee, feeling sheepish, and slipped a sleeve around it so he wouldn't burn his hands. He turned back to Ricky (how does a red scarf make someone look so good? Or does he look just as good without the scarf? Probably that). "I was just gonna sit at the table, if you wanted, or, or maybe I'll see you around campus." He was lying, of course, because he'd intended to go straight back to the library, but it was Friday night, so...on the off chance that this hot Irish guy wanted to talk more, he wasn't going to refuse.
Ricky thought for a moment, glanced out the window just to check the street for anything interesting or important. He'd sort of wanted to meet up with the lads tonight and have a few drinks, but maybe he could still do that and talk with this social grad student. Get some life advice, or something, even though they couldn't be more than a few years apart in age.
"I'm sure now t'at we've met we'll notice one anot'er walkin' around campus. But I could stick around fer a little while, I t'ink. After t'at I'll let ya get back teh studyin' yer monkey book, t'ere."
He took his backpack off his shoulders and checked it was still zipped. Handle cradled in his fingers, he reached up and pulled his scarf down a little, making ready to stay inside in the warm for a bit longer than he'd intended.
"Coffee, no room." A different barista said. Ricky thanked the guy and picked up his cup, content to deal with the temperature. He even had a sip right then, the sting something of a trial to surpass.
"Sorry," he muttered, walking towards the tables and hoping the grad would pick one for them to share, "but will ya remind me yer name? It's late, t'at's why I need t'is, see?" He raised his coffee cup with a bit of an apologetic smile, had another drink.
"We never exchanged names," Alex said, sliding the wooden chair out from under the table. He winced as it squawked across the floor, resisting the urge to cover his ears. Looking up at Ricky as he sat down, he said, "But my name's Alex."
"Alex, t'at's what it was." Ricky sat down across from him, setting his bag between his feet on the floor. I suppose he doesn't remember shaking hands, then, either? Ricky had another sip of his coffee. "I'm Eric," he reiterated, "er Ricky, whichever strikes yer fancy." He knew that awkward silence would probably come up more than once, so he tried front-loading the conversation.
"Is studyin' t'e only plan ya got lined up fer t'e week-end?"
Alex looked down at his coffee cup. The steam riding up from it meant it was probably still too hot for him to drink. "Yeah, probably mostly reading," he said, looking back up at Ricky and forcing himself to look into his eyes. What color are they, even? Hazel? Green? Hazel-green? "I don't know, I might play a game or something too. I still have my Super Nintendo from when I was a kid."
Ricky raised his eyebrows, leaned forward in his chair. "You've got a Super Nintendo? We had a hard time waitin' t'get ahold o' those when I was younger. They didn't reach Ireland for a little while. I only had internet in my house when I turned abouts 15." The coffee was a comfort, at least. He had another sip. "T'at's a good way t'spend a week-end. Nice and quiet, keep ya outta trouble t'at way." He gave Alex a smile. "At least, t'at's what it'd do for me."
Oh, his smile... Alex was immediately convinced that Ricky's smile was somehow better than any other smile. And it was directed at him, or at least it was directed at his Super Nintendo, which was close enough. "You can come play it if you want, I have like fifty games," he blurted out.
Ricky had been focusing on spinning his cup, keeping his hands busy while he sat there, but at Alex's words he looked up again.
"Woah, t'ere, lad," he chuckled, "I appreciate t'e offer, truly do, but ya would' say it's wise t'go 'round invitin' anybody inte yer hame. We barely know eachot'er, don't we?" He tilted his head, glanced away, "'Specially in Cali, s'not so wise."
"Right, yeah. Of course, you're right," Alex said quickly. His whole face felt hot now, but with embarrassment. But Ricky hadn't gotten up yet, so maybe he could still salvage the discussion. He really, really didn't want Ricky to get up. What would Sarah say? Redirect the conversation to a new topic... "What do you like to do besides studying?" Did he already say what he liked? Not yet, right?
The fishing around for things to talk about was endearing. He really was making an effort to chat. Ricky readjusted in his seat, his bag moving to lean up against his leg more than stay propped up between them.
"A bit o' t'is, a bit o' t'at, I should say. Drawin', mostly, and sometimes video games, s'well. I dunno, I'm not too interestin'." He took a drink and remembered, "oh, shite, except I do work. I work around goin' t'school, wit' the campus ITS." That was what took up most of his time, he was a little confused about how he'd failed to mention it sooner.
"Drawing! You draw? What do you draw?" Alex's grip tightened around his cup in excitement. "What do you like to draw? Do you have a sketchbook? Can I see it?"
Ricky chuckled, low in his throat, and scratched the back of his neck. "I draw people mostly, but it's all..." he waved a hand toward his backpack, where he did carry his sketchbook and his thin laptop. "It's rough. I'm more of a painter, actually. I like paintin' a fair deal."
"Wow, really?" Alex grinned, his nervousness temporarily forgotten. "I love art. I mean, I don't draw or paint or anything, well, sometimes I try, but I'm really bad because I don't practice, but I love looking at art," he said. Babbling again. "Sorry," he added, "I get excited sometimes." He picked up his maple latte and took a tiny test sip. It was warm, not hot, and sweet like maple candy. "Do you have any pictures of your paintings?"
