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Chapter Text

Dinesh stared at his phone as he rooted around with chopsticks in his box of lo mein. “Hey, Gilfoyle?” he asked, looking away from his phone and taking a bite of his food, “Have you ever been on a pub crawl?”

“Why?” Gilfoyle asked.

“Pub crawl?” Jared mouthed silently as he returned from the line with his and Richard’s food. Richard gave him one of his cartoonishly confused frowns and shrugged. 

“I just wondered if you thought they were fun, or if they aren’t worth it,” said Dinesh honestly, “It seems like you’d know, or at least have an opinion.”

Gilfoyle hummed. They waited for an answer or a mean quip, but none came. 

Jared hummed back as he opened his chopsticks and said, “I’ve done bar crawls.” 

“You have?” Richard asked, unwrapping the plastic fork Jared had gotten for him.

“Is it fun?” Dinesh asked.

“It… depends. It depends where you are and the bar choices of course, and I prefer themed ones, for example, ambling from bar to bar dressed as zombies for Halloween. But more than that, it depends who you’re with. If you’re with people who you always have fun with… well, then it’s fun no matter what you’re doing, right?”

“So, we would have fun!” said Bighead from in between Jared and Gilfoyle.

“Ah!” Jared shouted, hand over his heart, “Oh God, Bighead, I’m sorry, I forgot you were here.”

“Should I be insulted?” Bighead asked.

“No, no!” Jared swore, “We just don’t usually hang out this many of us, I just—”

“We met up at this Chinese place because it’s near Stanford—”

“I didn’t forget about you, I just, for a split second— you startled me.”

“Forgive him, Bighead,” said Dinesh, “At any given moment he’s thinking about licking Richard’s uvula.”

“Shut up,” Richard said in a monotone without missing a beat.

“I figured it was just because Bighead is short,” said Gilfoyle.

“What?” said Bighead.

“He can look right over you to look at me. It’s as if you’re not there.”

“We’re sitting down,” Bighead said, “It makes way less of a difference when we’re sitting.”

“Why were we talking about a bar crawl?” Richard asked. 

“Wajeed invited me on one,” said Dinesh.

“Your cousin?” Jared asked.

“Yeah, and I was thinking about it, but I wouldn’t want to go by myself and hangout with his friends.”

“Wajeed still talks to you?” Gilfoyle asked.

“It’s complicated,” Dinesh said.

“How much does it cost?” Gilfoyle asked.

“What?” said Dinesh.

“Bar crawls, they cost money,” Gilfoyle said, as though it was obvious.

“But anyone can bounce from bar to bar.”

“Sure, but then that’s just a personal bar crawl, not an official one,” Gilfoyle said, snatching Dinesh’s phone from his hand. “They charge because they have to curate and run it and sometimes pay the bars for the covers and stuff. …It’s 30 bucks,” Gilfoyle said, reading from Dinesh’s phone. “It’s a pub crawl for St. Patrick’s Day. I could be down.”

“Hm, I could spare 30 dollars,” said Bighead, “But will we know the bars ahead of time and the crowds they attract?”

“It doesn’t say… but it might be on the ticket after you pay,” Gilfoyle replied, “Oh. Oh, this is in San Fran.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll go then,” Bighead said.

“That’s better?” Dinesh asked.

“Yeah… I’m, um, trying to avoid students in social situations. I’m sure some of them will trek over there for St. Patrick’s Day, but it gives it some distance.”

“Should we all go, then?” Dinesh asked. “And Jared drives?”

“Can’t,” said Richard. “My sister’s in town over St. Patrick’s Day.”

The whole table went quiet. It felt like the whole Chinese restaurant went quiet. 

“What?” Richard asked as he sucked a noodle into his mouth.

“You have a sister?” Gilfoyle asked. 

“I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned any family in the entire time I’ve known you,” said Dinesh. 

“Even when you do mention your parents to me,” said Jared, “The stories always seem… like you’re alone.”

“Probably because she was in boarding school,” said Bighead.

“You knew this?” asked Dinesh. 

“Sure, we grew up together. His sister was always elusive, even before boarding school.”

“She thought we were gross,” said Richard.

“We… were,” Bighead admitted. Richard laughed.

“Your parents never seemed like… boarding school parents either,” said Jared.

“First of all,” said Richard, “you’ve never met them and heard maybe two stories—”

“Right of course,” Jared said, his shoulders shrinking in, trying to make himself look small as he felt he’d overstepped.

“And they didn’t, like, ship her off to boarding school,” Richard continued, “She wanted to go to this special science school, and she worked really hard to get in.”

“So, you were a whole family of giant nerds,” said Gilfoyle.

“Uhhh… sort of. But she was more… social.”

“I would say maintaining a childhood friendship into adulthood is fairly social,” said Jared.

“Yeah, but you know what I mean. Boyfriends. The mall. More… extroverted. Though she did throw up in the fifth grade before a school performance.”

“The Hendrick’s family stress response,” said Dinesh.

“If your sister is going to be in town, it doesn’t make sense to not celebrate St. Patrick’s Day,” said Gilfoyle.

“St. Patrick’s Day isn’t that important of a holiday,” Richard replied. 

“It’s your shared heritage,” Gilfoyle insisted. “Hendricks? Hendricks,” he said like he was sounding it out, looking for Irishness.

“Hendricks is German I think,” Richard said.

“You think? You don’t know?”

Richard shrugged. “It is, yeah because it’s the first name Hendrik.”

“You don’t know if they have any relationship,” Gilfoyle said facetiously.

“Yeah,” Richard bit back, “there was some guy—”

“Oh, there was a guy?”

“Yeah, a German guy named Hendrik, and he had a kid, and everyone was like, yeah, that’s Hendrik’s kid. And then they dropped the kid.”

“They dropped him?” Bighead asked, “On his head?”

“No, they dropped the word kid—” said Richard.

“Really, is that what happened?” Gilfoyle asked.

“Yep, that’s what happened,” Richard insisted, “Everyone knows this.”

“I don’t know, sounds Irish to me…”

“Gilfoyle sounds way more Irish, isn’t it Gaelic or something?”

“Those are two separate things,” Gilfoyle replied. 

“Why do you guys know so much about these random sounds off the top of your head?” asked Dinesh.

“They just sound like white people names to you, huh?” said Gilfoyle.

“You know what, actually yes,” said Dinesh.

Richard snorted, and Jared looked at him. “Sorry,” Richard said, “It just reminded me of the time he tried to convince us he knew someone named Mahrosh Davidson-Jones or something.”

“You don’t know,” said Dinesh, “that could be a guy.”

“I suppose there are circumstances where that’s possible,” Jared agreed. 

“Yeah,” said Dinesh, “And if you guys know so much about name sounds, what does Dunn mean? Where did that come from?”

“It’s because Jared is so done with this conversation,” said Richard.

“It sounds like more German, right?” said Gilfoyle. “Your birth parents, they gotta be German Jewish, right?”

“They didn’t say. After some initial information gathering I didn’t feel particularly inclined to press them for more,” Jared said. Richard grimaced. “But funnily enough, Dunn isn’t actually their name, it’s my aunt and uncle's name, who took me in after my first family—”

“You have red hair,” Gilfoyle said to Richard suddenly. 

“It’s not red,” Richard insisted, and then mumbled to Jared, “I was listening.”

“I know,” Jared whispered back.

“What color is your sister's hair?” Gilfoyle asked.

“… People have red hair other places,” Richard replied.

“Why are you fighting this so hard? You have a problem with Irish people?”

“Who has problems with Irish people? That’s not a thing.”

“The Irish have been treated as second class citizens at many points in history,” said Jared.

“In… Britain?”

“Here too.”

“Maybe public school focuses less on the white-on-white hate,” Richard joked, “I don’t know, maybe I did know this… I’m more of a world history guy. Although I am aware of a bunch of random Italian American stuff, but that’s because—”

“Because of my dad?” Bighead asked.

Richard laughed. “Yeah. He… told us a lot of stuff.”

“He loves telling a depressing story… to a child who’s just trying to get a popsicle.”

“Ahh those popsicles your mom used to make, Jared we should make popsicles—”

“I have a popsicle mold,” Jared told him.

“Yeah, because she would— Wait, what was I saying? Oh, yeah, I don’t have red hair—” Richard put up a long index finger for emphasis.

“It’s blinding,” said Gilfoyle in a monotone.

Richard continued to waggle his finger, “Now you are just saying blatantly false things. Besides, there are other places that have red hair.”

“Scotland?” Dinesh replied.

“That’s not what I mean. Also, like, Nordic people. Scandinavians.”

“Yes, you certainly look like a Viking, Richard,” Gilfoyle said.

Missing Gilfoyle’s sarcasm, Jared said, “Sure, yes, you could be a Viking. That would be an interesting costume idea… if you ever needed one… for something…”

Richard stared at Jared for a moment. “… Are you saying that because you want me to get rid of the Pied Piper costume… or because it’s…” he lowered his voice, “a kink thing?”

“Richard!” Jared looked scandalized, but overly so. “I would never suggest such a thing at the dinner table with our friends.”

Richard squinted at him. “You want me to throw away my cape.”

“I would never ask you to do such a thing.”

“It’s sentimental.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“So, you do want to see me dressed up.”

Jared tapped his lips with his fingers and looked at the ceiling as though he was thinking. “I just want you to be happy.”

Richard sighed. “I hate it when you do this.”

“Is this a conversation we need to be present for?” Dinesh asked.

“Shut up,” Richard replied firmly, just as before.

“Is your sister ugly? Is that what it is? Why don’t you want us to meet her?” Gilfoyle asked.

“Why do you even want to meet my sister?” Richard asked.

“Richard’s sister… is not ugly…” Bighead said wistfully.

“Ew! Bighead!” Richard shouted.

“Oh yeah, cause that was way worse than the thing you said about my mom—”

“It was 15 years ago, let it go.”

“I don’t know what your sister is like,” Jared interrupted, “or what she does for fun, but you could simply ask her if she would like to go on this pub crawl with you and your friends, and if she seems enthusiastic about it then you have an activity to do with her, otherwise, you will be missed, but we understand.”

Richard sighed. “Alright, I will ask.”

Chapter Text

Rachel thought a pub crawl in San Francisco sounded like a great idea. Especially since she was actually in town for a conference in San Francisco, and seeing her little brother was secondary. 

“We could just hang out at your hotel,” he urged. “I mean, I just wanted you to know we had the option to go out with them, but my friends are super lame.”

“You’re already out here,” she said from her spot on her hotel bed. “If we were at your apartment in Palo Alto, maybe we’d be lazy, but it looks like the crawl only starts, like, a couple blocks from here.” She was looking at the invite on Richard’s phone and then threw the phone back to him. 

“I guess,” Richard said, fumbling to catch it. “But be prepared. Dinesh is… I don’t know how else to say it, but, like, really cringe when he meets new people. And Gilfoyle is… just mean? And then Bighead will be there… and Jared…”

“It’s alright, I’ve been out with frat boys, and business guys which are basically the same, at least you guys are nerds. And when’s the last time we partied together? It wasn’t… oh my god, it wasn’t when you turned 21?”

“Come on, Rachel, you know reminiscing makes me feel like I’m inches from the grave.”

“You’re so melodramatic. It was fun. …I would never choose to be alone with Bighead again though. I mean going to get him from his school was worth the surprise, but all he did was complain, and talk shit about people the whole way to Stanford.”

“Oh, yeaaaah,” said Richard, “He grew-- like, legitimately, grew out of that.”

“Huh. Imagine that. Growing. I’ve never done it; I wonder what it’s like.”

“No idea, never done anything close to that,” Richard said, and his sister laughed. 

She popped up off the bed suddenly, rifling through her suitcase. “Luckily we look great in green,” she said, placing a dress on the bed and pulling off her t-shirt.

“Ah, Rachel!” Richard said, wrapping his inner elbow over his eyes.

“Oh please, nothing you haven’t seen.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen anything since before you had boobs,” he said from behind his arm.

“How do you get anything done being this uncomfortable all the time?”

“I don’t… Everything takes forever,” he admitted, thinking of how far into January it took him to talk to Jared about New Years. 

And last week…

“You’re leaving already?” Jared asked.

“I-I-I have to- er-um- teach a class in the morning.”

Richard took his arm down to see his sister in a long green dress, looking in a mirror, fluffing her curly reddish-brown hair. 

“Makes your hair look redder,” he admitted. “Rachel, are we Irish?”

“I don’t think so… I think dad is German and English.”

“English doesn’t really rule it out.”

“I mean, ask Dad— or if you want more specifics I guess you could do a DNA test.”

“Nooo,” whined Richard, “then I can’t commit crimes.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is. It’s a thing. The government can ask those companies for your DNA.”

“What crimes were you planning on committing?”

“I don’t know yet. I don’t know who I’ll wake up as tomorrow, or in ten years, I just know I want to protect that guy.”

“Well, I’m glad you have a sense of self preservation. Oh! Grandma is Scandinavian, remember?”

“She is? Ha, I knew it. I gotta tell Jared.”

Richard and Rachel were late, but they assumed since everyone was still at the first pub they could squeeze their way in. Rachel led Richard through a crowd of people singing, laughing, and drinking green beer, straight to a man with a clipboard. On their way, Richard felt a stinging grasp at his side, looked back, and realized Bighead had pinched him. “You’re not wearing any green, Dude,” Bighead called after him. He only caught a glance, but it looked like Bighead was in a Pied Piper T-shirt.

Richard showed the man their tickets on his phone, and the man gave them each a wrist band, and a plastic shamrock necklace. “No, thanks,” Richard tried to say, but the man shook his head. 

“The clover lights up when we’re leaving,” he said.

“Oh, cool!” said Rachel. 

Richard fiddled with the already itchy paper band on his wrist. Though he supposed both the band and the necklace solved the problem of forgetting to wear anything green. Suddenly he felt long arms wrap around him from behind. He didn’t have a long history with this experience, but what he did have of it from the last month, he secretly loved, so it came naturally to sink into it and tilt his head slightly to make it easier for Jared to kiss him on the temple as he said, “You made it.”

Recent familiarity may have made it take slightly longer for the part of Richard’s brain that was still Richard to activate, but almost as soon as they touched, they parted, Richard saying, “Jared, we’re in public.”

Rachel was looking at them, and it was then that his brain started screaming, because if he had phrased it any other way, maybe he could weasel out of this, say Jared was an overly affectionate friend, but no, even if he had said get off or stop it it wouldn’t have counteracted that kiss to the temple. Women could get away with it, maybe. But no amount of closeness was going to justify two straight men, especially one of whom was famously squeamish Richard Hendricks, kissing each other's heads. The damage was done, but Richard had certainly put the nail in the coffin with the word public, insinuating a private version of the two of them.

Rachel’s smile was small and soft at first, but it gradually grew as Richard choked on the silence.

“Rachel— Rachel!” Richard stuttered. Why had he not thought about this ahead of time? He thought about denying it out right, but even if he thought he could get away with it, he wondered how it would come across to Jared. 

“Oh, Richard!” she said jovially. Jared looked at Richard’s face. He looked like he was either going to cry, or about to start a bar fight. Jared had a hand to his mouth, and was silently turning red. He knew he’d overstepped the moment Richard started stuttering. He cursed himself; why would he assume Richard’s sister knew? He’d let himself get into a soft and comfortable mood, not knowing if Richard would show up at all. He’d spent the last 20 minutes talking to Bighead about types of desk chairs and was having a great time. He’d let himself be too relaxed.

Rachel took Richard’s hands. It was obvious to both Richard and Jared that there was no turning back, and instead of a denial, what came flying out of Richard’s mouth like vomit was a whiny, “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad!”

Jared’s hand fell from his face to his heart, hitting the zipper of his green vest. He’d considered that Richard’s parents might be homophobic. In fact, it had come to his mind years ago, the first time he’d heard Richard insist he was straight. Of course, at the time he’d also considered that perhaps he was projecting a narrative that fit his own desires more than anything.

“But-but, Richard—” Rachel insisted.

“But nothing!” Richard cut in.

“But they’ll be so excited!”

“I know!” Richard replied.

“Excited?” Jared wondered. He had misinterpreted and felt like he couldn’t quite get a grip on the situation.

“They’ll want to hear every detail!” Rachel said.

“I know— but it’s not— I can’t—” Richard stuttered.

“What, is the story bad? Did you meet on a dating app?”

“No! I would never use a dating app.”

“You’ve never used a dating app?”

“No, I have… but not for… ugh, he worked for my company… and the story is really amazing actually and everything mom would want to hear under normal circumstances, but that doesn’t matter, because you’re not going to tell them.”

“Richard. That’s not what you’re being weird about, is it? Honestly— They’ve always thought you were probably gay.”

“I’m not gay,” Richard insisted.

“Bi then, whatever.”

“I’m not! It’s not!” Richard lowered his voice, “It’s not men, it’s just Jared.” He placed a hand on Jared’s chest for emphasis, for just a moment. 

Jared appreciated the touch, but he was lost on how to feel. He didn't know Richard classified it this way, and on the one hand it could be flattering, sweet even, but on the other hand it was vaguely scary. He suddenly felt a bit claustrophobic, but didn’t think he could just walk away without acknowledging anything.

“I’m sorry,” Jared mumbled as an aside.

“Hm?” Richard looked up at him.

“Sorry I put you in this…” he said lowly, not bothering to say situation, knowing Richard understood. 

Richard shook his head. “No, no it’s not on you at all,” he said, and he meant it. He hadn’t thought for a second to blame Jared; Richard should have been more prepared. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt the conversation, I’m just going to head to the restroom,” Jared explained.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Jared,” Rachel said. Jared nodded but didn’t respond as he walked away. He knew it wasn’t as polite as he could have been, and he should want to impress Richard’s family, but he figured they had three more bars he could save face in. “So, you’ll at least tell me the story, right?!” he heard her ask Richard as he headed for the exit. 

Dinesh caught him before he could leave. “Jared, what’s the matter?” he asked, like answering wasn’t optional. Jared didn’t think of Dinesh as particularly observant, but he had to admit he was usually the one to ask, “Are you okay?” or “Have you been crying?”

“I… it’s nothing,” said Jared. “I just need some fresh air.”

Jared continued out the exit, but Dinesh followed. Out on the street, quieter and cooler, cars going by, Dinesh asked, “What’s going on, Jared? You don’t like Richard’s sister?”

“I don’t know her well enough to know if I like her.”

“Then what is it?”

Jared hesitated. He knew he shouldn’t talk to Richard’s friends about Richard, but they were supposed to be his friends too. “Richard… told his sister he’s not gay.”

“Oh… if he doesn’t— I mean, what he tells his family is— umm—”

“No, he told her that it’s not men, it’s just me.”

“Oh. …Weird. I mean, kind of… sweet?” Dinesh asked.

“It is sweet, I just… it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter how he… how he talks about himself—”

“It’s not like he’s going to change his mind, or something.”

“Mm…” Jared nodded, and whispered, “You never know.”

Dinesh glared at him. He did not like having to pry information out of people, and normally at this point he would give up. He knew it made him occasionally seem flippant or oblivious, but he just didn’t have the patience for it. He did not explain this, he just continued to glare, and Jared, finding it unnerving said, “Um… Okay… I… So, we are moving at a perfectly reasonable pace. But… There are some things we have not done. It hasn’t once crossed my mind that we should have done them, or that Richard was dragging his heels. It’s only been a month, and it’s Richard. Only now do I question his… relationship with those activities.”

Dinesh stared, his frown slowly releasing into a look of confusion. He looked like he was doing math. Then finally he said, “When Richard told us about the picnic, we all assumed he slept with you immediately after that.”

“Does that sound like Richard to you?” Jared asked.

“Well, he’d only been out with Winnie once when he came out to tell us—”

“Winnie was a woman.”

“… No, you’re right. It’s Richard. Yeah… He’s probably just getting used to… it. But, I mean this thing he said is just him getting used to it too, Jared.”

“I don’t know…”

“Dude, of course it is, are you kidding? It’s not just you. He’s so full of shit—”

“Dinesh…”

“In fact, he should not have said this with us around—”

“Dinesh, no! Leave him alone,” Jared urged.

“What?” Dinesh said, slyly, “I’m not going to do anything weird…”

“You have that look on your face you and Gilfoyle get.”

“What look?—There’s no look. I’m just going to have a good night, hanging out with my friends…”

Jared sighed, and mumbled, “I knew better than to talk to you about this.”

It was dark on the street outside the bar, and therefore far more noticeable when the shamrock necklaces around Dinesh and Jared’s necks started blinking. 

“We’re supposed to meet on the sidewalk, right?” Dinesh asked. Jared nodded and pointed out a few people already gathering. 

Before long, the rest of the gang, and Dinesh’s cousin and his friends, joined the fray. Once they were within reach, Richard wrapped his hand around Jared’s elbow. Jared noticed he was doing the same to his sister when she asked, “Richard do you want a leash?”

“That would be great actually. Stuff where it’s up to you not to get separated always stresses me out,” said Richard.

“I’m sure Jared would be willing to collar train you,” Gilfoyle cut in.

“Shut up,” Richard said in his usual quick monotone.

“You know,” said Gilfoyle, “If you didn’t want us to talk about it, maybe you shouldn’t have bragged about the beautiful picnic he—”

“I wasn’t bragging. Jared went to a lot of effort, and it was just—! Worth recognizing—!”

“Sure, that’s the reason we know every excruciating detail.”

“You don’t!” Richard insisted, “There’s tons I didn’t tell you.”

“Well, thank Satan you’ve got some class,” Gilfoyle drawled.

“That’s not what I—ugh…”

Jared wanted to pat Richard on the back to reassure him, but he still had his elbow. Even Jared had been surprised when Richard wanted to tell the others about a few specifics from Valentine’s Day, similarly not realizing until it was too late that they were unable to be assumed platonic, therefore forgoing any hiding they might have done. Richard’s immediate excitement was the only reason they were being teased only a month in, when Jared would’ve been willing to keep it to themselves until it was a little more serious. Of course, it had always been serious to Jared, but on paper, they were just getting started.

The group started making their way down the street, following the organizers. Dinesh and Gilfoyle started chatting with Wajeed, while it looked like Bighead had met someone new. 

“The next bar has a cover,” Richard said, “but they’ll cover the cover… cover the cover?” Richard repeated, confused by his own words. He shook his head. “The wrist bands get us into some of the bars whenever, but this next one we have to be with the guy—”

“That’s why he’s afraid of getting separated,” Rachel finished for him, sounding a little exasperated. 

“Well— if I get separated I’ll literally just go home so…”

“He’s… done that before,” Jared told Rachel.

“Yes, he’s done that to us as well,” she said lowly. 

Jared assumed “us” referred to Richard’s family. “It was a confusing mall,” Richard said. 

“You made mom cry,” Rachel replied.

“It took 5 minutes to figure out.”

“She was very upset for 5 minutes.”

“Wait, what happened?” Jared asked. 

“We were on a mall run, and Richard just took the bus home in the middle of it,” said Rachel.

“I couldn’t find you guys,” Richard said.

“Unless I’d actually been left behind… I’d have been beaten for something like that by several foster parents,” Jared said in awe.

“… What?” said Rachel. “Beaten? For getting lost? Wait, you were in foster care? Several foster parents? So, some wouldn’t have? How many did you have?!”

While Jared realized he’d made a mistake using wording he wouldn’t have normally even used with Richard, and was, in a way, being interrogated, it was interesting to watch Rachel get flustered and jump from question to question, as it was so like Richard, yet different. He wondered if Richard’s parents were excitable in similar ways.

“Rachel, Rachel,” Richard urged, taking his hand from her arm to gesture with it, but keeping his other still firmly in Jared’s inner elbow. “Jared— he— he has a lot of past, and sometimes he shares pieces of anecdotes without thinking, but that doesn’t mean he wants to unpack the whole story right now, so we only ask leading questions in private, okay?”

Jared stared at Richard’s profile. That was surprisingly insightful, but Jared felt a little guilty for being surprised that Richard could be insightful. 

“Oh, God, okay, sorry, Jared,” Rachel said.

“Oh, no, that’s… that’s okay, I wasn’t thinking,” Jared replied.

“Richard,” Rachel hissed, “You should’ve talked to me way more about him before introducing us.”

“I know, I know, I’m so fucking dumb,” he whispered back. 

Even though he had to reach across his own body, Jared decided to grip Richard’s bicep with the opposite hand so as not to upset Richard’s elbow holding, while still doing a comforting gesture. Richard glanced up at Jared and sucked his lips into his mouth. There was no visible blush, but Jared was getting pretty good at spotting when one was threatening Richard. 

It was nice to still be able to do that to him. He didn’t know how hard Richard was going to continue to need to be courted after Valentine’s Day. Jared had certainly never thought of Richard as a sure thing. 

And now. Now that he knew Richard didn’t think of himself as liking men. Who knew where any of this was heading? 

“Ewgh, gross, I can’t do this…” Jared pictured Richard saying in a vague intimate moment that had yet to happen. His eyes glazed over. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

The next place was definitely an Irish pub, but no one caught the name, distracted by the sound of loud off-key singing. Inside many people were belting out the lyrics to what Jared thought was Danny Boy, until it suddenly started to sound like Auld Lang Syne. 

“Shut up, posers!” they saw a bartender in a long dress shout, but the crowd laughed, losing track of their song, and the music over the speakers changing to Britney Spears. 

“Richard, you can let go of us,” Rachel said, as one of the organizers was coming around handing them tokens. 

“What did he just say?” Richard asked, leaning up to Jared’s ear trying to be heard over the many voices. 

“Beer,” Jared said.

“What?”

“Beer!” Jared repeated holding up the token.

It was only in the air for a second before Rachel plucked it from his hand, taking Richard’s also, and disappearing to the bar. Gilfoyle followed her, and Richard hoped it was too loud for them to talk to each other. 

“This is a loud one!” Richard said.

“What?!” asked Jared. 

“This bar—”

“Quiet!” the bartender shouted, throwing a bar towel at someone sitting at one of the little round tables. 

“Mara, come on,” the man said, throwing it back.

“—Is loud,” Richard finished, able to be heard over the many voices, which were still very present, but had lowered a few decibels.

“I guess we'll have to stand close to hear each other,” Jared said, slinking into Richard’s personal space and tilting his head down just slightly.

“Jared,” Richard whined. 

“What? I’m not trying to embarrass you in front of your friends or your sister, I just need to be heard,” Jared said facetiously, coming close enough for their bodies to brush each other. 

Richard smiled, but made a noise akin to a squirrel or a chipmunk muttering, and with loose wrists swatted at Jared's torso to get him to back away.

“Fine!” Jared said, “I’ll just have to shout from over here!”

Richard was laughing as his sister and Gilfoyle returned, each carrying a tray with several green beers. Once everyone grabbed one, they discarded the trays on a nearby table. 

“What’s funny?” Richard’s sister asked. 

“Nothing, just Jared being a weirdo,” Richard replied.

“So, the usual,” Bighead said from in between them.

“Ah! Oh, Bighead, I’m begging you to stop doing that,” Jared said. 

“It is because I’m short, isn’t it?” Bighead whined.

“No! No of course not,” Jared said.

“We just had a half hour conversation about desk chairs,” said Bighead.

“Yes, and it was wonderful!” Jared agreed.

“You did kinda come out of nowhere, man,” Richard cut in.

“Yeah, but I was sitting next to him at the Chinese place.”

“You’re very quiet sometimes,” Jared said.

“Uhuh, whatever,” Bighead replied. 

“Nooo, I swear. I’m not forgetting you or discounting you,” Jared urged, and suddenly in an effort to prove his point, hunched over and enveloped Bighead in his arms. 

After a moment of being squeezed, still able to see the rest of the group, Bighead said, “This is weird right? What’s happening is weird?”

“Yes,” Richard replied, “very weird.”

Jared released Bighead, but left his hands on his shoulders, standing behind him, and looked at Richard with the barest shadow of a smirk. “Richard… Bighead is no threat to you…”

“I know that,” Richard said. 

“Then why the face?”

“There was no face,” Richard said through gritted teeth. 

“You made a face.”

“I didn’t make a face.”

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced!” Dinesh said, trying to change the subject. Jared flinched.

“Mm, okay, see Dinesh scared me too, clearly I’m just on edge,” Jared said, looking at Bighead.

“You didn’t shriek when he spoke…” said Bighead.

“Of course we’re all on edge,” said Dinesh, “There’s too many people and we’re all having to shout every time we speak!”

“The girl at the bar said they forgot to calculate in the pub crawls for capacity,” said Rachel. 

“Great, I hope there’s not a fire,” Dinesh said petulantly. “Anyway, hi,” he directed at Rachel, “I’m Dinesh.” 

“I’m Rachel,” she replied, reaching out to shake his hand. Dinesh held it a little too long.

“Dinesh, don’t be weird,” Richard ordered.

“I’m not being weird,” Dinesh said, “I was just thinking how Bighead is right, you’re definitely not ugly.”

“Did Richard say I was ugly?” Rachel asked.

“Noooo,” Richard said in a frustrated monotone, his eyes glazed over.

“Very beautiful, I meant,” said Dinesh.

“Yeah, of course she’s not ugly,” agreed Gilfoyle. “I mean, she looks like our buddy, Richard. Don’t you think, Dinesh? Don’t you think she looks— Just. Like. Richard?”

“Uhh, yeah…” Dinesh said, pulling his hand away slowly. “The resemblance is uncanny.”

“And you don’t think our pal Richard is ugly, do you, Dinesh?” Gilfoyle asked.

“No…” Dinesh said, putting an arm over Richard’s shoulder. “Richard is my bro, why would I think that?”

“No one said you could touch me,” Richard said, shrinking out of his grasp. “Everyone just stop touching each other!”

Dinesh rolled his eyes, and Rachel laughed. “Anyway,” Dinesh said, trying to regain his composure, “That’s my cousin Wajeed,” he pointed a few feet away.

“Hey, what up!” Wajeed shouted over the crowd, realizing he was being introduced. 

“Rachel!” she shouted back, pointing at herself.

“And his friends,” Dinesh continued, “David, Yusuf, and Ayesha.”

“Lime,” said Jared.

“What?” Richard asked. 

“The beer tastes limey,” Jared said, taking another taste of his drink.

Richard took a sip. “Hmm, I can’t decide how I feel about that.”

They tried to find a corner to sink into, but it mostly felt like they were waiting for this pub experience to be over and to move on to the next one. Apparently there had been some sort of traditional Irish dancing, but it had been earlier in the evening, and Richard couldn’t figure out where they could’ve possibly fit the dancers. 

“This is what this place is for,” Bighead said as he plopped down what looked like fries and fish sticks, soup, and something white. 

“What’s that goop?” Richard asked.

“Mashed potatoes, dude. It’s cottage pie.”

“Is this a meat stew?” Jared asked.

“If I eat all this heavy Irish food this early in the night I’m not going to make it to the last bar,” Rachel said.

Richard rarely saw Bighead irritated anymore, but he did give a long-suffering sigh. “There’s a lot of us. I thought we could just pick at them.”

Jared nodded, took one of the paper plates Bighead had brought, scooped four or five fries onto it, and then started dolloping stew over them. He looked up to find Richard staring at him. “What?” Jared asked. 

“What are you doing?” said Richard, baffled.

“What, it’s like chili fries.”

“You don’t like chili fries.”

“Well, the stew smells good.”

“Alright,” Richard said, shrugging. Once Jared was done, Bighead got the impression no one else was going to eat the soup, so he reached over between the two tables next to them to hand it to the third table over where Dinesh was sitting with his cousin and his friends. They took it, and it looked like they might actually eat it.

“So…” Gilfoyle said, sipping at a bottle of beer, his cup of green beer already gone, “I heard something that I found quite interesting today.”

Richard didn’t have to ask to know by the tone of his voice that Gilfoyle was about to start something, so rather than engaging with it, he asked, “Why don’t you go torment Dinesh?”

“I’ve pretty much made Dinesh feel as inadequate next to his cousin as he ever will,” Gilfoyle admitted, “Plus, Wajeed appears to like me and Dinesh equally, which is… unsettling.”

“So, you’re a connoisseur of teasing?” Rachel asked.

Gilfoyle nodded, but Richard said, “I wouldn’t call what Gilfoyle does teasing.”

“Hm, I would,” said Jared. 

“Are you easier on Jared?” she asked.

“Pff, no,” said Richard.

“It depends on what you’re comparing it to,” said Gilfoyle, “Am I easier on Jared than I am on Dinesh, or Richard? No. Am I easier than Jared is on the rare occasion he says something nasty? Absolutely.”

“Ohhhh, really now?” Rachel looked over at Jared.

“I said I was sorry,” Jared said.

“There’s a darkness in Jared,” Gilfoyle assured her.

“It was a long time ago,” Jared muttered.

“Anyway,” said Gilfoyle, “What I was going to say was, a little birdy told me Richard thinks he’s not gay.”

“Rachel,” Richard hissed. She shook her head as if it wasn’t her, but he didn’t believe her for a second.

“And what I wanted to know is,” Gilfoyle continued, “are you actually that delusional, or is that just what you want her to report back to your hick family?”

“Gilfoyle, what the fuck?” Richard asked, unable to come up with something more eloquent. 

“Answer the question, Richard.”

“Could you maybe not call my family hicks in front of my sister?”

“It’s okay, Richard, I know he’s just teasing,” said Rachel.

“Call it whatever you’d like,” Gilfoyle said. “I just want to know how dumb my former boss actually is… How disappointed should I be?”

Richard pounded a fist on the table. It was louder than he expected, and he looked embarrassed. “I’m—!” He stood up abruptly. “I’m going to go to the bathroom! Don’t fucking talk about me while I’m gone.” 

Once Richard was out of earshot Jared said, “Gilfoyle, I realize that you are rarely in the mood to do me favors, but could we maybe not poke at this any further?”

“Hmm… Well, Jared, I’m not actually sure that’s what’s best for you,” Gilfoyle replied.

Richard knew it was Jared before he entered the bathroom. He knew his gait, and what his shoes sounded like. 

Richard was standing at a sink. Jared stayed back by the door. There was someone in one of the stalls, but they came out, washed their hands, and left. And then Richard and Jared were alone. Richard shut off the faucet, and now they could hear the music playing in the bar. It could’ve been a ballad, or a less produced pop song, but all they could really hear from the bathroom was a melodic piano floating over the sconces. 

The bathroom had seemed cold and sterile a moment ago, but now the lighting appeared to shift to something warm, almost pink. 

That had been happening a lot lately. The last place Richard would think of as romantic was a pub restroom, but when he and Jared were alone together sometimes it felt like there was a dimensional shift. Like he was on the holodeck, absolutely compelled to play a character that was satisfying to him— but not him. Not really. 

This one might have had a specific trigger, he supposed. How many times had Jared comforted him in a bathroom? 

Jared had gotten a haircut. He’d slicked it tight tonight, and in his green vest and loafers, he looked like a counselor at a church camp. Richard wanted to ruin it. Pull Jared apart in some way. He took a step toward him. He pictured roughly untucking Jared’s shirt, dripping with insinuation. Instead, he said, “You guys thought you needed to send a rescue party?”

“Well, I finished my soupy fries,” Jared said, taking a few strides toward Richard. “It was alright. I can’t figure out what kind of meat it was, though. And once I was finished I thought it’d been long enough to justify coming to look for you.”

“You were worried?” Richard asked almost lasciviously, taking yet another step into Jared’s personal space.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just thought I might be able to squeeze in a moment alone with you.”

Richard pulled his chin into his neck, trying and failing to hold back a smile. He hated what Jared was turning him into. What one person thought of him shouldn’t matter this much. “I made faces like this when he would compliment me years ago. Maybe it’s not that deep. Or maybe I always cared what Jared thought.”

Richard took a deep breath and lifted his chin. He could so easily kiss Jared right now. He shouldn’t find a make out session in a bar bathroom appealing, especially while his sister waits outside with his friends, but Jared had this way of doing a gesture, big or small and Richard activated like a sleeper agent. In this case it was coming to find him, reminding Richard he values moments alone with him. He used to be able to accept a cup of tea, help with a task, even an expensive gift without taking it so seriously. He wondered if he was broken. Or maybe he was fixed.

Before he could decide, their necklaces started blinking. “I guess it’s time to head to the 3rd pub,” Jared said quietly. 

“Yeah, we should… go.”

Jared turned to leave, but before he did, put a hand on the side of Richard’s face and kissed him swiftly, just deep enough for a sexual edge, yet fast and nonchalant enough that he could’ve been kissing his wife goodbye before work for the 5000th day. He left the bathroom, Richard having to work to follow him, his brain still catching up to the kiss. 

“There’s something to be said for inference,” Richard quoted, as he trailed after Jared. 

He looked at Jared from behind. He looked like such a dork tonight. How was such a dork able to do this to him?

“Let it go. Dimension shift back to reality. Be normal.”

Before the next bar, they were issued a warning.

“Alright folks,” said one of the organizers as the group walked down the street, “Next stop is Cherry Red, and I know we’re a diverse group, so if you find yourself feeling out of place, it’s okay to step out— but this is also a reminder to be respectful of the space, and its regulars.”

“What does that mean?” Rachel asked quietly.

“Cherry Red is a gay bar,” Jared replied. 

“Yeah,” said Gilfoyle, “So don’t act like you’re on safari, Dinesh.”

“Me?” Dinesh asked, “Why would you assume I was the one who was gonna be weird?”

Gilfoyle stared at him as his only reply.

Chapter Text

Inside, the bar was definitely cherry themed, but other than that, Richard didn’t think there was anything particularly gay about it. He supposed the regulars could be outnumbered tonight. There were a lot of people, but there was more room for mingling here, and they could hear each other's voices. 

Wajeed said something to Dinesh, but it wasn’t in English, then said, “I’m going to the bar, would the ladies like anything?” His friend, Ayesha, asked for a beer, and Rachel asked for a screwdriver. Richard made a face.

“Still?” he asked. Rachel rolled her eyes. 

Richard glanced over at the bar. There were a lot of people ordering and laughing with the bartender, who looked like a pirate to Richard. It was an intimidating space, and Richard had often felt obligated to fight social anxiety for girlfriends, girls he was trying to impress, or even his sister, but Wajeed had taken care of that. Suddenly he realized he didn’t necessarily have to be the one in that situation every time anymore. He looked at the floor and twisted his right hand back and forth around his left wrist, before glancing up and saying, “Jared…?”

“Yes?”

“Would you get me a drink?”

“Of course, what would you like?”

“Mm…” Richard shuffled his feet and mumbled, “I don’t know… Surprise me?”

“Sure,” Jared said cheerfully, and disappeared to the bar.

“What was that?” Rachel asked. 

“What?” Richard replied.

“Jawed,” she imitated. Her eyes widened as something dawned on her. “Oh! Oh my God, it’s mom. Henryyy. You sound like mom.”

“Ha!” Bighead said suddenly, “I fucking told you; even your sister agrees.”

“I do not!” Richard insisted.

“You sound just like her,” said his sister, “Oh, Jaaared. Mh, oh Henryyy.”

“I do not sound like my mother!”

Wajeed came back before Jared, handing Rachel her screwdriver and ending this particular bout of teasing.

When Jared returned, he had a tall glass with a clear liquid in it in one hand, and a hurricane glass with something green in it in the other. He handed Richard the clear glass.

“What is this?” Richard asked.

“Water.”

“Jared…”

“You’ve already had two beers, and I just want you to stay hydrated,” Jared said. Richard had been the one to finish Jared’s green beer at the previous bar, still unsure how he felt about the lime flavoring to the last gulp. 

“Okay, I’ll work on it, Mom…” Richard said, taking a sip.

“Why don’t you just… knock it back?” Jared suggested.

“You want me to knock back water?”

“Sure, just chug it.”

“Yeah, chug it,” Wajeed said, putting an arm around Dinesh and Gilfoyle, Gilfoyle looking mildly confused.

Richard put the glass back to his lips, and Wajeed started repeating, “Chug, chug, chug!” Wajeed’s friends joining in, and then Richard’s sister, Dinesh, and Gilfoyle, and finally even Jared shouting the word over and over.

Richard drank until the glass was upside down, and then yelled, “Woo!” holding the glass in the air, and adding, “So hydrated!” 

The group laughed, and Wajeed pulled away with a smile, telling Dinesh he and his friends were going to go mingle, obviously wanting him to come. Dinesh waved him off politely and stayed where he was.

“What did you get yourself, Jared?” Richard asked, looking at the hurricane glass.

“Oh, this is for you, I just wanted you to drink some water first,” Jared said, handing it over. 

Though he had hidden it to a degree, Richard had been so annoyed by this water thing. But now his eyes softened. Jared just wanted to take care of him. Richard tried to ignore that the lights appeared to turn pink again, and the whole world seemed to focus in on Jared’s large fingers moving against the condensation on the glass as he handed it to Richard and said, “It was called an Irish Margarita on the menu. It sounded like you would like it. Pineapple juice and blue curacao.”

“Not exactly Irish ingredients,” Rachel laughed.

Richard didn't hear her, he was trying not to think about his and Jared’s fingers brushing as he took the drink. He sipped from the straw and smiled. “It’s delicious,” he said.

“Let me try,” Rachel said, and he held the straw to her lips. “Gah, Richard,” she said as she swallowed and pulled away, “everything you like is so sweet.”

Richard took another sip. “It’s good; I can’t taste the tequila.”

“That’s not— Ugh,” Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose.

“It’s good,” Richard insisted, taking another big gulp of it. He made the mistake then, of taking a step away from her for emphasis, but turning back toward her.

Now he was in line with Dinesh and Gilfoyle, and Dinesh snaked an arm over Richard’s shoulder. Richard was tired of this fake affection he kept getting. He wanted the group to be close, so he was open to sucking it up if that included hugs occasionally. Supportive back pats. But this wasn’t that. He wanted desperately to say only Jared was allowed to touch him without asking, but that drew too much attention to them. He already regretted letting the group know anything was going on at all. Plus, the sentence should probably be only Jared and Bighead are allowed to touch me without permission, which would sound exclusionary. But he’d known Bighead since adolescence, so they used to be a lot more physically affectionate. Now it had dwindled down to what Richard felt was logical. A hug when something really bad or really good had happened, or when one of them was going somewhere, either far away or for a long time. Lesser versions of these could warrant a handshake or those aforementioned back pats. Bighead never touched him insidiously. He never had to wonder about Bighead's ulterior motive. But now, as he felt Dinesh sink into him and Gilfoyle sidle up to his side, he felt like he was being embraced by the side-kicks of a Disney villain. 

“This is a gay bar,” Dinesh said.

“Look at this crowd,” Gilfoyle said, waving his hand out in front of them like they were looking at something awe inspiring. “You don’t see anything you like?”

“Ah, God, you guys,” Richard moaned, putting a hand to his forehead.

“That guy is looking at you,” Gilfoyle added, gesturing enough for Richard to know the general area of who he was talking about, but not enough for the man to see him point.

“Maybe it’s because I have two guys hanging off me,” Richard replied. 

“That seems like that’d be normal here,” said Dinesh.

“Dinesh,” Richard and Gilfoyle chastised. 

“What? Why is it always me? I didn’t even say anything weird. I just don’t think that would make people stare right now.”

“There’s a guy who’s kinda your type,” Bighead cut in, gesturing with his chin. 

“I do not have a type. Why are you getting involved in this?” Richard looked to Jared hoping for a rescue, but he could tell Jared was baffled himself. 

“Richard,” Dinesh said, squeezing his shoulder, “You—” he started, but before he could finish Richard interrupted him, inspired by the shoulder squeeze, and just how close to him Dinesh’s body was.

“Dinesh. Is it that you want me to be attracted to you?”

“What?”

“You don’t have to work so hard,” Richard said, slipping a hand behind Dinesh’s back. Jared could see Richard’s intention, and had to put a hand over his own mouth to keep from laughing during it. Richard put a hand on the side of Dinesh’s face and said, “All you had to do was ask… B-b… Baby.”

Dinesh stared at him. “Richard, I’d be a lot more freaked out by this if it wasn’t obvious you were trying not to throw up while getting out the word baby.”

“Yep,” Richard said, letting his hands fall. “That’s fair. Tried my best.” He used the moment to slip out of Dinesh’s grasp and back away from Gilfoyle. 

“Fuck, Richard,” Gilfoyle said, “Just look. Don’t be such a pussy.”

“Interesting choice of words, since none will be involved,” said Dinesh. 

“Especially interesting,” said Rachel, “That people say have some balls, and don’t be a pussy, when I would say balls are the far more sensitive of the two and create an accessible weakness.”

“The balls expression,” said Richard, “comes from them dropping, and therefore the person leaving adolescence. The same with be a man, originally meant to be, as opposed to a boy, not opposed to a woman. Pussy on the other hand is actually short for pusillanimous, which means cowardly, or craven.”

“Yes, thank you, Richard,” Rachel said in a monotone, eyes pointed to the ceiling. 

“Has he always done that?” Gilfoyle asked.

“Fucking always,” Rachel replied.

“That’s a myth,” Bighead said nonchalantly. 

“Richard always correcting people is a myth?” Jared asked.

“No, the pusillanimous thing. It’s a myth. Their popularity is too far apart to be related.”

Jared expected Richard to have a negative reaction to being corrected, but Richard simply shrugged. Jared always forgot that he and Bighead had such a long history with very little competition. 

“Really?” Richard said, “Ah, man, I must’ve just heard it somewhere and internalized it.”

“Nah, me too,” said Bighead. “Don’t know who started it. But there is the cat thing, and we do call people scaredy-cats, so who knows.”

“Mm, that’s true. We should look up when scary-cat started.”

“Yeah,” said Bighead, “I love looking up idioms; I always remember them wrong—”

“This conversation is riveting,” Richard’s sister said sarcastically. “This is why I avoided you two when you were kids.”

“Not Richard’s lack of baths?” Bighead asked. 

“Oh, please,” said Richard, “let’s not forget the time you were shocked by the information that you’re supposed to change your sheets.”

“My mom was changing them! Just because I didn’t do it, didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.”

“Uhuh…” Richard said slyly. 

“She was making me do my own laundry, but not my sheets yet, and you can claim I was too old to be learning this, but that doesn’t mean my sheets were dirty.”

“Well, answer me this. When we both lived with Erlich, were you changing your sheets?”

“Yes! Maybe not as often as I should’ve… but I did it!”

“Sure,” Richard said. 

“Richard,” Jared cut in, “I mean… how often do you change your sheets now?”

“Plenty! It’s just… sometimes I don’t want to wash them… so instead of clean sheets, which I don’t have, I use…”

“A ninja turtle blanket,” Jared finished for him.

“A ninja turtle blanket,” Richard agreed. “But it works! It’s big, and it washes easy!”

“You want to be in a relationship with this guy?” Dinesh asked Jared.

“Unfortunately,” Jared replied.

“Hey!” Richard said suddenly, and while it was laughed off by the group, Jared could tell he may have actually hurt Richard’s feelings, but didn’t know how to cut in that he didn’t mean it.

“I mean… look at all the options,” Gilfoyle said, gesturing at the crowd as if they hadn’t long since changed the subject.

“Gilfoyle…” said Richard.

“If you could have anyone here—” Dinesh started.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Richard insisted.

“This is a whole different deal, Richard,” said Gilfoyle, “In a room full of beautiful women, you’re a two, but here—”

“Fuck you, Gilfoyle—”

“You’ll never know unless you try,” said Dinesh.

“I could say the same to you, Dinesh!” Richard said.

“Are they always like this?” Rachel whispered to Jared.

“It depends,” Jared replied.

Rachel frowned. “I feel like I’m watching him get bullied.”

“If ever there were a time to experiment,” continued Gilfoyle, “it’s here and now. Anything could happen and—”

“Alright, okay,” said Jared, “I’m not comfortable with this conversation anymore— If we could not— Um—”

“Encourage Richard to cheat on you, right in front of you?” Bighead asked. “Yeah, this is kinda fucked up guys.”

“Okay, okay, but just humor us a little. For a second,” said Dinesh. Richard crossed his arms. “If you had to sleep with someone in this room… They gotta have a dick, or we assume they do, I guess we don’t know as long as they have pants on, but yah know. Anyone in this room; Jared doesn’t count.”

“Fine…” Richard said petulantly. He pointed with his pinky, from within his crossed arms to be discrete. Everyone looked in the direction he was pointing, making it immediately less discrete.

“Yeah,” said Gilfoyle.

“Mhm,” agreed Rachel.

“Definitely,” said Jared.

“Me too,” said Bighead.

“Yep,” added Dinesh.

The person he had pointed to was talking to someone else, but it was clear who he meant, as they were in full leprechaun themed drag. 

“Just to clarify,” said Rachel, “We’re saying literally any of us would sleep with that person.”

“Hell yeah,” said Gilfoyle.

“He is… very pretty,” Dinesh admitted.

“It’s a she while they're dressed up, Dinesh,” Gilfoyle said with a sigh.

“Yeah, come on,” agreed Richard, “Everyone knows that.”

“I— Who cares? We’re only talking to each other,” Dinesh whined, “I feel like you guys are doing this to me on purpose…”

“We have to cut him some slack,” said Gilfoyle, “Pakistan is very homophobic.”

“That is not inherently true!” Dinesh hissed, “On an individual basis—”

“Be quiet,” Gilfoyle said, “We’re trying to admire a masterpiece.” 

No one but Dinesh had looked away, and suddenly the leprechaun looked at them and said, “What are you staring at, Gilfoyle? Yeah, I see you over there.”

Gilfoyle paused for a moment, just continuing to stare. Finally something clicked and he said, “Greg? I didn’t know you did this.”

“No one asked.”

“You know this person? How do you know this person?” Dinesh asked.

“They’re a satanist,” Gilfoyle said quickly before leaving them behind to join the leprechaun. 

Richard sighed at nothing in particular. “I need another drink.”

“Pace yourself, Richard,” Jared said. Richard glared at him a bit more intensely than any of them would’ve expected.

Richard went to the bar by himself this time. There were a lot less people now, and it wasn’t so intimidating. He tried to get the pirate bartender's attention, but he was ignored at first. He was used to it; it always took him a few minutes to get service. 

Suddenly the pirate placed a short glass in front of him with a pale yellow-green drink in it. There were few enough people that it was obvious it was for Richard.

“Oh, I uh, didn’t order anything.”

“I fucked the measurements up on that one,” the bartender told him. “Still drinkable, so it’s on the house.” And then the bartender winked. 

Richard could feel himself turning red, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the wink or the alcohol. He tried in vain to wipe the bewildered look off his face, and sat down to take a sip of the drink as a distraction. The bartender was on the other side of the bar now, and Richard was left to finally entertain the idea that men were attracted to him. 

There was a part of Richard that thought he would’ve noticed by now if that were the case, but on the other hand he was aware that even in California you couldn’t hit on the same sex willy nilly. You had to read the room; you had to hedge your bets. He related, in that he had to measure whether simply showing attraction to a woman would make him seem like a creep, but he also understood that this could be much more delicate. So, perhaps, there had been others, but Jared was the first who just couldn’t hide it. Something about that theory felt unsettlingly arrogant to Richard, and while there were ways Richard was comfortable being arrogant, his ability to attract wasn’t one of them. 

He glanced at the bartender again as he sipped his drink, and decided the pirate was just trying to be nice. No male bartender had ever just tried to be nice to him like that, but the environment was different here. Here he could be nice.

Richard looked back over to his friends. Gilfoyle and Dinesh had disappeared somewhere, but Jared and Rachel were chatting away. He didn’t really want them talking to each other. Their potential for divulging  horrible secrets was deep and innumerable. Although, knowing Jared, he was politely convincing her to take up scrapbooking, or telling her about the local bird population, or even regaling her with some horrible story, from his past or someone else's. She laughed. So, it probably wasn’t the last one.

But the likelihood that he would come back on something embarrassing was too high for him to return right now. He was happy with his place at the bar. Besides, it was sort of nice to watch them. Two people he loved getting along. He hadn’t said the L word to Jared yet, but after seven years of knowing him it felt perfectly natural to count Jared among the people he loved, if only in his own head. He might have done it before. Back before New Years even, what with all the time they spent together.

He cringed sometimes, wondering how he didn’t see all this coming. “I would do anything for you.” “I’ll always have time for you.” On the other hand, he knew he did see it coming. “I assumed that we’d hooked up, and I didn’t lose my shit over that.”

Richard’s sensitivity to the possibility he could return to teasing wasn’t just because his sister was a master at it. It was that when Jared teased him it could sometimes hurt a lot worse than anyone else, and he was still a little bugged at Jared saying it was unfortunate that he wanted to be with him. Teasing about things that were true but not that big of a deal, like that Richard and Jared are lanky, was fine. Teasing about things that are inherently not true, like if Jared had insinuated he didn’t want to be with Richard, could be fine too: Richard would know it was false, sarcasm, irony. But Richard often used Jared’s belief in him to build himself up, to have confidence, and even before all this, he hated when Jared undermined his own opinions. Richard wanted to feel desirable, not like he was just dating someone nuts. 

Richard took a look around the room, just for something to do. He accidentally locked eyes with a man for a moment. It was the same one Gilfoyle had pointed out. Maybe he was looking at Richard. 

He had light hair, and dark eyes. He was on the larger side, in good shape,  mildly defined under his too tight green t-shirt. He looked a little like someone who would play a high school football player in a movie while secretly being 38. 

Richard looked away. There had to be another explanation. Being gay didn’t suddenly change all the rules.

“I talked to him,” Gilfoyle said from behind him. 

“Ugh! Gilfoyle, you’re like a snake—”

“I’m far faster than most snakes, but yes, I can be as quiet as one.”

“The Black Mamba can slither like 12 miles an hour.”

Gilfoyle ignored him. “I talked to him. His name is Sam. And boy can he not stop looking at you.”

“… So?”

“So maybe you should talk to him, Richard.”

“Even if I wanted to talk to him, what would I say?”

“Just go over there and say: Kiss me, I’m Irish.”

“I swear to God, Gilfoyle.”

“Whatever. The point is, you’re thinking about it. Because it’s all a lot less simple than you’re making it out to be. You’re not special. And neither is Jared.”

Before Richard could come up with a retort, Gilfoyle was gone. Richard looked around the bar for him, and accidentally made eye contact with Sam. The man made the smallest gesture with his fingers for Richard to come over, and Richard found himself approaching as though he wasn’t controlling his own legs. “Maybe it’s not about that,” he thought. “Maybe he wants to tell me I have something on my face, or —there are all kinds of people out tonight— maybe he wants to ask if I’m here with Rachel, or if she’s a lesbian, and whether he can flirt with her.”

He found himself suddenly very close to Sam, and as if they were partners on a heist and he was sharing the code to the safe, Sam whispered in Richard’s ear just to the side as they passed by each other. “Meet me in the alley behind the bar in 10 minutes,” Sam said.

Richard was dumbfounded. There was no doubt in Sam’s face or voice. The insinuation was clear. Most likely, all they could really do in an alley was kiss, but Richard still expected them to flirt a little first. To get the chance to entertain the idea, get some attention, and then turn him down. But this was covert and Richard didn’t know why. Maybe the man could tell Richard was here with someone. 

Richard felt sick to his stomach. It wasn’t that he wanted to kiss someone other than Jared, he told himself. But if it was bad it would prove a point. 

And while being bisexual, maybe homoromantic even, would explain things about his life, and maybe it would be better to be more comfortable in that place, it created other mental complications. 

If people were just humans, then Richard did the thing. He dated humans. He had a girlfriend in high school. She wasn’t the right fit; she dumped him for Gary Shiffard. In college he dated Sherry, and Melany, and Zip. Zip wasn’t her real name, it was a nickname, but he couldn’t remember her real name anymore, only that her pothead friends made him uncomfortable. He thought he had a future with Kate, but she broke up with him after he dropped out of Stanford because he wasn’t taking life seriously. He tried to date Winnie, but they were just too different, and he slept with Liz in a moment, if he was honest with himself, that he was craving connection, but that didn’t mean they would’ve had one, even if she weren’t engaged. 

And then there was Jared. 

And in some ways he felt all wrong, but in others he felt so right. He scratched an itch no one before him had, and if humans were just humans, or if Richard had always been bisexual, he would suspect it was because Jared was the one or something. 

But if it was because Richard was gay, then it would just be because Jared was a guy that things clicked. And on some level that felt like it meant Richard was supposed to do the whole awful thing over again, looking for the right guy instead of the right girl.

Not that he could find someone better. Righter maybe, but not better. Richard knew what he’d said last month was true. Jared had absolutely ruined him. There was no way Richard was going to find a gay guy that wanted to dote on him like Jared did. But just because he was so sweet didn’t mean that they would click forever, or that Richard deserved such a delicate romance. 

Was that why he wanted this, or was it the mere suggestion? Was it some kind of pathological self-sabotage? Or an intrepid horniness that proved his friends’ point? —Perhaps a desperate, unquenchable need that couldn’t be quelled, even by Jared’s endless supply of love, to be desired.

His brain summoned an image, a memory of his own imagination: Jared pushing him against his own door, and saying, “Why would you invite me up here if you weren’t thinking what I was thinking?” He shivered, and thought of Sam’s dark eyes, and assuming demeanor. His rounder, soft yet masculine features, and his broad chest. He imagined that chest pressed up against his own, and with a chilling shame, he shuffled toward an exit and into the alley to wait for Sam.

To Richard’s surprise, Sam came. Richard didn’t know what to do then as the man smiled and swaggered forward. Maybe he should just tell him he has a boyfriend and be done with it. Let him down gently. But the way his body moved had an insinuation Richard got momentarily lost in, brought back only by the sound of Sam’s voice saying, “I worked at Hooli for years.”

“Oh?” Richard said, like this was flirting. The man was close, and Richard tilted his head up so their lips would be in line with each other while they whispered irrelevant small talk.

“Yeah,” Sam whispered, and Richard felt the murmur in his groin. Then suddenly in his stomach. Pain. His torso ached. He wasn’t looking at Sam anymore, he was looking at the asphalt as he was doubled over in agony. It took him a moment for his brain to catch up. The man had punched him. Sam had socked him in the stomach. “And then I lost a long term reliable job when Pied Piper took over and blew everything up,” Sam hissed. 

Richard wanted to explain that he didn’t know that was going to happen, or ask why Sam hadn’t moved to Amazon when Hooli was first carved up, but he couldn’t even look at him. It wasn’t the punch of a friend or even a bully. It was the quick blunt force of someone who meant it, and Richard was fully winded, bent over clutching his abdomen, trying to blink back tears and keep from throwing up. He never got another good look at Sam, he just heard him call Richard an asshole as he walked away. 

Once Richard could move, he let his muscles release, and slid down to sit on the asphalt. He wrapped his arms around his knees, and stayed in the alley by himself until the light on his necklace started blinking.

“Friends, off limits,” Rachel said, chatting with Jared, “Totally fair. Close relatives, still makes things weird—”

“Like you, you mean?” Jared asked.

“Me? Oh, yes, I’m a close relative, so like, if you had a brother, and I flirted with him, could turn out awkward, but Dinesh, he’s a little further…”

“Hm… I still don’t think—”

“And then his cousin, I mean, I know they’re hanging out tonight, so they’re not as distant as cousins could be, but I think it’s just distant enough?”

“Oh, you’re asking if it would bother Richard if you flirted with Wajeed? I don’t think he’d care, but why don’t you just ask him?”

“I haven’t seen him in a hot minute.”

“Hm, where is he…?” Jared wondered aloud as he searched the crowd. Normally he was able to scan an inch or two above conferences, or tech parties, but this room was filled with a variety of types of people, including those whose heels made them tower over Jared. 

“He’ll probably meet us outside,” she said, pointing to Jared’s necklace as it blinked. 

“Oh, sure. Well, if he doesn’t, you can go on without us.”

“Us? You just gonna wait around for him?”

“Or go looking if he doesn’t answer his phone. He can have his space, but I would never want to leave him if he might need me.”

“Jesus, leave it to Richard to find my perfect man for himself.”

“Ahaha, I try my best, but I’m sure you’ll find things about me you think are… weird,” Jared admitted. 

“Well, Richard’s weird, so… but man, our mom used to always diminish gestures, but fuck, I love a good gesture. And… Richard was telling me some stuff,” she said, poking Jared lightly in the ribs. “And by telling me, I mean that I was prying it out of him with the jaws of life. But yeah, respect and gestures? Fuck.”

“Well, if I recall a story or two I’ve heard, Wajeed used to refer to his last partner as ‘a girl he was fucking’ so, while I would never want to judge him, I don’t know if he’s the respect you’re looking for,” Jared warned.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’m not from around here, it’s not like I’d marry him, just fuck him.”

“Oh. Okay. Well… You go, girl.”

“Oh, my God, that was so embarrassing to hear come out of your mouth... You’re perfect for Richard.”

Richard was already outside when they made their way out of the bar. They couldn’t see the organizer, but there was a sea of light-up necklaces, and they followed the herd. Jared decided to ask Rachel’s question for her, just to get it over with. “Richard, would it make you terribly uncomfortable if your sister had a little bit of a flirt with Wajeed?”

Richard wasn’t holding onto them this time, merely doing a zombie shuffle amongst the crowd. He looked up at Jared listlessly, and then called to Dinesh in a monotone, “Dinesh, is your cousin single?”

Dinesh turned and walked backwards to talk to them. “Right now, he is, why?”

“Can Rachel…?” Richard gestured with his nose but couldn’t summon an expression on his face.

Dinesh sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he’s up there,” he said, pointing to the front of the group. Rachel followed his hand and disappeared into the crowd. 

Dinesh started talking to Bighead and Gilfoyle about types of beer, and Richard started to slow down. Jared slowed down too, falling into step with him, and they gained some distance from the group while still being able to see and follow them. 

Richard looked at his feet as he walked, uncharacteristically quiet. Jared tried to ignore it at first, knowing an evening that had such wide social requirements may warrant moments of decompression, but he couldn’t help but notice Richard rubbing his stomach absentmindedly. This was sometimes a prelude to vomiting, but somehow Jared didn’t get that impression.

“Having fun?” Jared tried.

“Totally,” Richard said on autopilot. 

“Did you enjoy petting the robot-unicorns?”

“Definitely.”

“I just said nonsense, Richard.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Richard.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Richard. I know you. What’s wrong?”

“You know me…” Richard repeated. “Fuck… Ugh… I want to be comforted by you. Of course I want to be comforted by you. But you can’t comfort me about this, because that makes no sense. I’m the one who did something wrong. Like really, I deserved it, just not for the reason he thought.”

“I don’t understand. How do I help, Richard?”

Richard pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dinesh and Gilfoyle have been trying to convince me that I…. I…”

“I’m aware,” Jared said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“And you know, Gilfoyle told me someone was attracted to me in that last bar...”

“Right, okay.”

“And-and this guy asked me to meet him in the alley, and I wish I could tell you I went so I could tell him I wasn’t single or come up with some better lie, but I don’t feel like I can lie to you right now,” Richard whined.

“You were curious.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it.”

“It’s been a long night already. A wild night. Bar crawls aren’t exactly meant to be a quiet group activity.”

“What?”

“If you’re beating yourself up about this, don’t,” Jared said. “You kissed someone else, it was an experience—”

“I didn’t,” Richard replied quickly, “I didn’t get the chance.”

“What happened?”

“He socked me in the stomach.”

“What? What, at a gay bar?”

It took Richard a moment to parse Jared’s confusion. He supposed other people probably did have experiences like his for homophobic reasons. “It was a tech grudge. He saw me, recognized me as the CEO of Pied Piper and… It was never that he was attracted to me.”

“Awh, Richard,” Jared said, wrapping an arm over his shoulder. 

“Don’t you see how fucked up this is?”

“Yes, that was very cruel—”

“No, for you to comfort me about this.”

Jared ran his hand between Richard’s shoulder blades. “Nothing even happened. We don’t need to dwell on it. I just want you to be okay.”

“But now we’ll always have doubt.”

“Doubt? …Richard, I’m not going to constantly be wondering where you are and what you’re doing just because one time you almost kissed another guy at a bar.”

“Fine… of course you would respond like this.”

“I’m sorry, did you want me to respond differently? Do you want me to frog march you to the next bar while I tell you that if you ever so much as look at another man…”

Richard laughed, but then the laugh devolved into sighs, and Richard scrubbed his hands over his face. Richard had never been watching where they were going, and Jared put his hand out to stop Richard from walking into the street. Richard looked up and moaned again in frustration. The group had made it across the street, but Richard and Jared hadn’t been close enough to make the walking-man light, and now they needed to click the button and wait by themselves. 

“I don’t know how to say…” Richard started to mumble, “I… was not in the place— the headspace? To talk about this stuff, and I wish I had just given myself a little bit of time to… the guy that I am when we’re alone is… like, a different guy—”

“No, he’s not…” Jared cooed.

“He is, and I’m not saying they can’t be reconciled, I just need a minute… or more than a month I guess to be inside my own head, but I couldn’t stop myself from… I told them, because I never fucking shut up—”

“You were excited.”

“Yeah, well… If I’d just used my brain for five seconds, I would have realized that I was not ready to talk to them or my sister about this— and just done a little bit of orchestrating. But like, on the other hand, I did think of it, I was like, should I talk to Jared about this being just between us? And I thought it might hurt your feelings, like, I feel like I was always hurting your feelings, like I still feel guilty about thinking… what I thought at New Year’s—”

“Richard, what do I have to do to get you to let go of when I said I was trying not to be insulted?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Richard huffed as the light changed, and they stepped off the curb. “I just didn’t want you to think I was going to do that hiding thing, okay? I thought about it, and I was like, if I’m mature enough to… do this thing with you, then I should be mature enough for everyone to know. Even if it changes the way they think about me. But I should’ve known. I should’ve known I wasn’t mature enough for any of this.”

“Richard…”

“I just… I wish I was normal,” Richard said, and it broke Jared’s heart a little. 

Chapter Text

Once they were all gathered in front of the next bar, one of the organizers got their attention. “Alright folks,” he said. “This is the last stop. Your wristbands get you free entry and 3 drinks. You don’t have to stay here, but you can. Bar’s open until 2, and it is 11:30 now. There is a motel two blocks that way,” he pointed to his left, “And Ubers pick up on this side of the bar, there’s a little sign,” he pointed to his right, “This is the end of our adventure, so we’ll be hands off from here on out. We’re not liable for anything that happens after this point. Thanks for coming out folks, we really appreciate it. Happy St. Patrick’s Day!”

The group had started to squish together to listen, and more of their friends were near now.

“Is this the norm?” asked Dinesh, “For bar crawls, the guy—”

“All the talking and preparing?” Wajeed asked, “Not necessarily.”

“I’ve been to ones where I never even saw the organizer, but it’s usually somewhere in the middle,” Jared said.

“Yeah,” Wajeed agreed.

They made their way inside gradually, someone checking each person’s bracelet at the door. This place was on the bigger side, but it lended to a more relaxed atmosphere, a small dance floor in one corner, and a lounge area with couches and comfortable chairs in another. There was room at the bar, so Richard and Rachel took a seat on two bar stools while Richard’s friends crowded around them.

“Everyone having fun?” Jared asked. Richard smiled at him. He was starting to calm down and let the previous location drift into the background. Jared sometimes reminded him of a teacher or a babysitter. He wanted everyone to have a good time, and sometimes it felt like he owed it to him to try.

“I haven’t seen any students all night, so I'm happy,” Bighead joked. Richard nodded in agreement.

“I saw some tech people unfortunately,” Dinesh said. Richard held back a wince, trying not to think too hard about it.

“Well, we’re not that far away,” said Jared.

“We should come out here more,” Dinesh said.

“We should go to the beach,” Richard said suddenly.

“Aw, fun,” Rachel said.

 “The last thing I want, is to see any of you in bathing suits,” said Gilfoyle.

There was a silence, but after a moment Bighead said, “Haven’t you seen all of us in swim suits already?”

“...Oh… Oh, yeah, I have. Well, except Jared. And Richard wears a Tshirt in the pool, so I assume he’d still do that at the beach.”

“You still do that?” Rachel asked.

“I don’t want to get sunburned,” said Richard.

“Wear sunscreen,” Rachel replied.

“I can’t reach my back.”

“I’ll do your back,” Jared said.

Richard gave a long suffering sigh and looked up at the ceiling, “I know you will, Jared.” It was laced with their entire friendship, and was the same response Richard would’ve given whether they had started dating or not. The whole group laughed, even Rachel, but each for a slightly different reason.

“Ah, I should do more stuff with my group,” said Rachel, “It’s dwindled a bit though. Everyone had to go and have a baby.”

“Gross,” Richard said.

“I know.”

“Well, how’s Kaylee?” Richard asked.

“She moved.”

“Noooo…”

“Well, she was already a long way from Tulsa, and she lost her job, and then broke up with her boyfriend, so I was the only thing keeping her in the area.”

“Oh, shit, is she okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just— that magazine folded; they didn’t fire her or anything, and there’s a lot more of those kind of opportunities here in California. We’re still friends, but it’s not the same, you know?”

Richard nodded.

“Is Kaylee the blond?” Bighead asked.

“No,” said Rachel.

“Yes,” said Richard.

“What?” asked Rachel.

“She was blond when you were in high school.”

“Oooohhh, for a minute? She’s never been a natural blond.”

“You don’t even remember what your friends look like,” Richard teased.

“She’s never been a natural blond!” Rachel repeated.

“Always had memory problems. ‘Member when you got lost on the way home to your own house—”

“It had been months since I was home!”

“So you go away and just forget everything you know?” Richard asked.

“I was learning at a way higher level than you ever were at a public high school at home—”

“And yet, I am now a professor—”

Rachel laughed. “Please, you teach, like, one class.”

“I’m on a trajectory,” Richard said. Jared could tell there was some sort of personal significance to the word trajectory for them.

“I get a trajectory,” Rachel insisted, “You don’t get a trajectory, no one cares what you do—”

“I found my own trajectory.”

“No, there was no trajectory for you, you know why?”

“Shut up, Rachel.”

“No, no—” Rachel insisted to the rest of the group, “You guys ever wondered why we’re so far apart in age?

“Lots of siblings are,” Richard said, “And they didn’t know about you until, like, a week ago, so they’ve never wondered anything.”

“Why are you far apart?” Dinesh asked

Rachel got up from her chair to curtsy as she said, “Why, I was planned.”

“Ugh. Can’t you just be happy your parents still liked each other when you were 5?” Richard asked.

“You weren’t happy about them liking each other when you were ten.”

“I have no opinion about… oh…” 

Richard sat stone still, his eyes sad empty saucers, and Rachel replied, “Oops. I unlocked a core memory.”

“I could’ve gone the rest of my life not remembering this,” Richard mumbled.

“Yeah, well, I could’ve gone my whole life not knowing about it at all, but you had to call me about it at my boarding school.”

“We talked all the time, it made sense to call—”

“We never talked. Maybe once a semester at most and even then it was because Mom or Dad handed you the phone. And then out of the blue I get a call from you whining and complaining that you walked in on—”

“Don’t say it!”

“Mom giving Dad—”

“Rachel! You’re the worst, you’re so childish. This is why Mom always says you can never tell one of us is older.”

“Well, I do have flawless skin.”

“I don’t think there’s much of a difference between 14 year old skin and 9 year old skin. You know, when she first started saying it?”

Rachel glared at him. “…At least I have my own name.”

“What?” Gilfoyle asked.

“I was going to be Rachel if I was a girl, and Richard if I was a boy. Richard got my sloppy seconds didn’t he?”

Richard looked at her with such a deep hatred, Jared actually started to sweat. He recognized the telltale signs of a Richard fit, and as Richard got ready to say something— something Jared thought he might deeply regret, Jared was tempted to put his hand over Richard’s mouth.

But he couldn’t control Richard, and he certainly couldn’t dictate Richard’s relationship with his own sister, so he had to let whatever was about to happen, happen. Richard’s lips parted, but instead of cruel words, all that came out of his mouth was his tongue. Rachel did it right back. Too grown adults dramatically sticking their tongues out at each other. The more emphatic one was, the more the other pushed their head forward and stuck their tongue out further, a hum coming from both of them that egged the other on. 

“There’s no good female version of Richard,” Richard said. “So everyone understood when they had one girl, that ‘Rachel’ was for great grandpa Richard, but then I got actual Richard so now I’m honoring great grandpa, and your name is meaningless.”

“...Don’t make me molest you, here in public,” Rachel said.

“You’re right,” Richard said, “We are in public, so maybe don’t shout about molesting someone.”

“I will.”

Richard put his hands out as if to calm the rest of the group, who weren’t reacting at all. “She means she’ll tickle me, to be clear.”

“You’re ticklish?” Jared asked.

“Ohhhh,” cooed Rachel, “Your boyfriend doesn’t know you’re ticklish?” she swiped at his ribs, but he pulled away just in time. 

“I’m not. Jared, I’m not!” Richard insisted as Rachel started chasing him through the circle. 

“Yeah, that’s why you’re running. Because you’re not ticklish.” 

“I’m not. It’s because it hurts. Jared, learn nothing from this,” Richard said, getting up onto his bar stool to avoid her. “It’s just that it hurts me! It’s not a fun, ‘oh Richard is laughing’ thing, it’s- eeep!” Richard interrupted himself as Rachel’s hand made contact with his ribs.

“It’s pretty fun for me,” Rachel said. 

Richard kicked at her, not hard, but enough for her to back up. And then in a flight of desperation, he climbed up on the bar and perched on it like a gargoyle, swiping at her to keep her away.

“What is happening right now?” Dinesh asked.

“Hey!” said the bartender suddenly. “Get off the bar, or you can get out!”

“Sorry…” Richard and Rachel said together like they were being yelled at by a parent. Richard slipped down and back onto his barstool.

“That was wild,” said Bighead.

“Please,” said Rachel, “You mean he doesn’t act like this all the time?”

“I’ve never seen him act quite like this,” Jared admitted.

“He put his foot through a door once,” said Dinesh.

“Why?” Rachel asked.

They all looked to Richard. “I… I don’t… remember? Something to do with… Peter Gregory’s notes… and then I went to… Gavin’s house… Oh, the patent. I was mad about the patent. That’s crazy. It blurs together.”

“Yeah,” Gilfoyle said wryly. “To think that’s all you got out of six years of hard work, vague memories of being angry about things that didn’t matter.”

There was a silence, and then Richard said, “That’s not all I got out of it. I got deep friendships.”

“Aww,” said his sister.

“You already knew us, Richard,” Gilfoyle argued, “It’s not like the company facilitated anything.”

“We knew each other, but it’s different now. It’s, like, war bonding,” Richard insisted.

Gilfoyle scoffed. “Pff, no one wanted to be in the trenches with you. Certainly not me.”

Richard thought for a moment, and then said, “You’re right, you’re right. You’re not my friend, Gilfoyle. You’re just a guy who hangs out with my other friends sometimes. And that was already true before the company. But I did get things out of the company.” Richard linked arms with Jared, took hold of his bicep with his other hand, and leaned his head on Jared’s shoulder. It was pointed, a purposeful display, and the most affectionate Richard had been with Jared in front of the gang, ever. Jared reveled in it, even as he watched Gilfoyle’s face.

Gilfoyle’s eyes glazed over. It was obvious he was starting to check out of the conversation. He moved away from the circle by drifting right through it, but not before patting Richard on the shoulder and saying, “Sorry, man.”

“Sorry?” Richard asked, even though Gilfoyle was already gone. “Sorry about what? About what I’m saying I got?”

“I think he was apologizing about what he said before,” said Jared.

“What? Yeah right.”

“Didn’t you see his face?

Richard sighed, “Even if I had your face-mind reading powers, it’s kinda dim in here.”

“He’s hurt.”

“What, did he call someone a pig-nosed fuckface?” Richard joked.

“You hurt his feelings,” Jared explained.

“What, me? I hurt his feelings?”

“Yes, when you said he wasn’t your friend. But he’s smart; he immediately realized the point you’re making right now, that he pushed you until you pushed back and he got burned. He had no one to blame but himself, so rather than lashing out any further, he just apologized and disappeared to lick his wounds,” Jared explained.

“I… really? You think?”

“I do.”

“Should I go after him?”

“You don’t have to. It’s up to you.”

Richard nodded and squeezed Jared’s arm before untangling himself and heading after Gilfoyle. He hesitated to exit the bar into the chilly air outside and stand in another alley. Still, as cruel as Gilfoyle could be to him sometimes, he didn’t think he’d ever hurt him physically. 

Gilfoyle was leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. Richard felt a pang of guilt. While they joked about Gilfoyle being a smoker, Gilfoyle really only smoked in times of stress.

“Hey,” Richard said.

“Hey,” Gilfoyle replied, flicking his cigarette. “Did Jared send you to check on me?”

“Sort of,” Richard said, honestly.

Gilfoyle nodded and silently handed him the cigarette. Richard took it, and very hesitantly lifted it to his lips. Before he could get even half a drag, he started coughing dramatically. 

Gilfoyle took the cigarette and asked, “Why would you try it?”

“I thought we were doing a bonding exercise,” Richard said as he huffed out the last few coughs.

“Nah, I just forgot you don’t smoke,” Gilfoyle admitted.

“No one’s ever forgotten I don’t smoke before.”

“Har har, I’ve been drinking.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I mean, no one’s ever looked at me,” he gestured at his body, “And been like, yeah that’s a guy who smokes…” he put up a peace sign sideways at his chest for emphasis. 

“What are you doing?” Gilfoyle asked.

Suddenly realizing the peace sign was odd, Richard dropped it, and waved his hands in front of Gilfoyle’s face as though he could hypnotize him. “Nothing. You’re drunk. You didn’t see anything.”

“Stop it,” Gilfoyle said, switching his cigarette to his non-dominant hand so he could push Richard’s hands out of his face. “Richard, stop,” Gilfoyle urged him to put his hands down, “Stop it— I’m sorry I’ve been on you lately. We’re friends. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Richard let his hands fall to his sides and stared at Gilfoyle. It was a simple question, and yet uncharacteristically vulnerable. A yes was on the tip of Richard’s tongue, and he almost said it. But if they were going to have a heart to heart, Richard’s heart was in need of some repair.

“Did you know? Did you see that as an acceptable part of friendship? The thing with Sam? Cause if it was, if it was just a prank bro or something, at least I know that’s how you think, and not a targeted attack—”

“Richard, I don’t know what you’re talking about. The thing with who?”

“The guy who you said was looking at me and wanted me.”

“We were just teasing, man, it’s not like—”

“He punched me.”

“What?”

“I went behind the bar with him… because… well, you guys said— And I thought— and he told me that he worked at Hooli for years, and I didn’t think much of it, cause I worked at Hooli. I thought, something in common? Tech? Bonding? And then he came close like he was going to kiss me, and punched me in the gut, and said he lost his job because of the Pied Piper Hooli merge, and left while I was winded.”

“What the fuck, no. No, I didn’t know. He was looking at you and we were at a gay bar, I thought what I said I thought. I mean, I didn’t think you were actually going to do it—”

“You didn’t?”

“No, because Jared.”

“Great, so not even you expected the worst from me, so I can’t even use peer pressure as an excuse as if I didn’t already feel bad enough about going.”

“Nothing happened.”

“I know, but it could’ve.”

“Nah, nothing happened. It doesn’t count if nothing happened. Jared never has to know about nothing.”

“I already told him.”

“You guys are so weird.”

“It was awful. He fucking forgave me.”

Gilfoyle surprised Richard by saying, “What a jerk.” Richard raised an eyebrow. “I mean, at least he could’ve punished you a little.”

“Yeah!” Richard agreed.

“And then when he forgave you later you would’ve felt absolved, like okay Jared has decided I’m off the hook so now I am.”

“Yes, yes.”

“But now you just feel undeserving.”

“Exactly! Wait… is that the punishment?”

“Jared doesn’t seem like that big of a mind game guy. Is he? Not with you. Maybe with someone he feels threatened by, but not with you.”

“Yeah… I think he just forgives me. Said the same thing, nothing actually happened.”

“See, I’m right, Jared agrees.”

“Fine, whatever.”

“...I did not know that was going to happen,” Gilfoyle insisted.

“I heard you,” Richard replied.

“I thought it was worth repeating. I know you had to go be alone, cause I mean… Jared and stuff, and what it was in general. But you know if we’d been there it would’ve, like… started a bar fight.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have just let him fucking walk away.” He flicked his cigarette and took another drag. “I mean, God forbid Erlich had been there.”

“Don’t you mean Satan forbid or something?”

“I don’t know, it’s late, Richard,” Gilfoyle huffed.

“Sorry. Erlich was not always the greatest friend, but he was protective.”

“He collected people, like puppies, or funko pops or something, and you didn’t touch his collection, break his toys.”

“Yeeaaaahhh,” said Richard.

“Imagine someone dared to, fucking… Physically assault you— in front of me… and Erlich and Jared. Bar brawl. Chaos. We’d’ve been arrested.”

“I think I prefer the quiet indignity I experienced.”

“Well, something to be thankful for everyday.”

Richard sighed. “... You’re my friend, Gilfoyle. You know you are.”

“Awww,” Gilfoyle said facetiously, putting his hand over his heart and sticking out his bottom lip to make the mocking extra clear.

“You make it very hard to be friends with you; that’s the thing.”

“You make it hard to be friends with you, because you take everything so seriously.”

“Mm…”

Gilfoyle took another long puff off his cigarette and said, “I do see the effort, by the way.”

“What?”

“Like, we’re always out ‘cause of you, and I’m aware of that and everything.”

“Because of me?” Richard asked.

“New years, and Valentine’s Day, and this—”

“The New Year’s party was Jared’s friend. And Dinesh’s cousin wanted him to come to this. It was only Valentine’s Day that I planned and you didn’t even—”

“Oh my God,” Gilfoyle said, exasperated, “I’m sorry I didn’t show up, but don’t you think it was for the best in retrospect?”

“...Yes.”

“You said, let’s hang out this afternoon, back in December, and then while we were hanging out, you said, what are we doing for New Years? And Jared suggested that party. —And then you said in the group chat that if we made our way to the Chinese place by Stanford to meet up with you and Bighead, you’d pay for our food, and then Dinesh asked about bar crawls, and Jared agreed to drive. So, an object in motion, like, you make us hang out more. And I know you did plan a whole fucking friendship Valentine’s Day thing, and I’d have rathered gone to the dentist than that shit, but I’m just saying I know you and Jared want the group to stay a group, and I see the effort, and I appreciate it.”

“...Really?” Richard said in a high squeaky voice.

“Yes. I do,” Gilfoyle said firmly.

“Thanks,” Richard said sniffling, and wiping at the corners of his eyes.

“You’re not seriously going to cry about this?”

“No! It’s just, like, I’ve been drinking, and I got a little, you know, involuntarily teary with the thing with the guy, and now the tear duct seal is broken and it just…”

“Oh, I hate that,” Gilfoyle said nonchalantly. Richard stared at him in surprise, expecting it to turn into teasing somehow, but instead Gilfoyle just continued, “It’s windy out, or you hit your thumb with a hammer or something, and then the rest of the day it’s like, stop leaking. Or, you ever poke yourself in the eye? And then just that eye is weird for the rest of the day.”

“I have, but I have trouble picturing you doing it.”

“Wearing contacts is like, you just will do weird shit to your eyes at some point. I could never wear them all the time.”

“Contacts freak me out.”

“They freaked me out too, when I was a kid. My mom was always trying to force them on me. Fucking bitch,” said Gilfoyle. He took one last puff on his cigarette butt, dropped it on the asphalt, and put it out with his foot. “Wanna go back in?”

“Yeah,” Richard replied, and followed Gilfoyle back into the pub.