Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

there’s something to a nighttime routine that streber hasn’t quite managed to nail down.

he knows it’s important. hell knows his friends have tried to drive it into his head time and again that responding to their messages at four in the morning is not okay. they always tell him he needs to come up with a routine; if he has a routine, and it becomes a habit, he’ll be rendered a pavlovian dog by the moment he begins it. 

but streber doesn’t like routine. or, rather, he prefers his own to any that anyone’s suggested. he lays down. he closes his eyes. and his body fills with dread. so out comes the phone, or, if he’s feeling like he’s not actually ready to try yet, he gets up and sits at his computer for hours, shoulders hunched and creating numerous problems for his future self. 

tonight isn’t one of those nights, though. it’s one of those rare nights where someone else has decided they wanted to spend time in his gloomy apartment. two of said people are sandwiched into his tiny loveseat as he sits on the floor, knees hugged to his chest as he leans against radford’s bony calves. meanwhile, than’s next to streber on the floor, and they’re not cuddling, but they’re not… not cuddling, either. Is that what it’s called when your partner puts their head on your shoulder? streber doesn’t know, or really care, because radford keeps kicking him every time ghostface comes onto the screen. 

“do you mind?” streber asks, twisting to look up at the redhead. ethan’s head slips off his shoulder and they whine a little, trying to tug him back into the weird embrace. 

ignoring ethan’s melodramatic distress, radford draws his socked feet up onto the couch with a rakish, yet still innocent, grin. “mind what?” he asks, as he pulls his cargo shorts over his knees. 

“you keep kicking him, man,” kevin pipes up from the other side of the couch. his mouth is set in a frown, like usual, and his candyclub shirt hangs off his shoulders. he’d clearly been in a rush to get here from work, and now it seems like he regrets it - especially since rick wasn’t able to come as a buffer. 

radford smacks around on the coffee table for the remote before pausing the movie right in the middle of a chase scene, then points the remote at kevin. from where streber’s seated on the floor, it’s hard to tell what button he’s pressing - since this is radford, though, he has to assume it’s the ‘mute’ button. “let streber answer for himself, ‘man.’”

kevin just rolls his eyes and faces the screen again. his face glows in the light of the screen, his furrowed brows drawing shadows over his eyes. “see, this is why nobody wants to sit near you during movie night.”

looking a little hurt, radford gestures vaguely towards the couple on the floor. “clearly streb and eth do.” 

streber sighs, remembering why they don’t do this more often - at least, not sober. “can you guys both shut up?” he groans, folding his arms over his chest. his teeth - nicknamed his snagglefangs - drag against his chewed-raw bottom lip. “it’s tv time.”

wordlessly, radford points the remote back at the screen and presses play, though he doesn’t watch the movie. a few minutes later, kevin gets off the couch, grabs his wallet from the kitchen counter, and the next thing streber knows, only three of them remain. 

it’s weird. radford and kevin have always been really close, but as of late they’ve been getting in more arguments and streber isn’t sure why. tonight, he’s sure it’s just that kevin was tired after a long, grueling day at work, but all of the other times…it’s like they can’t be in the same room anymore without there being something to argue about. streber considers asking radford about it, but ultimately chooses to pay more attention to ethan, who’s back to clinging against his side. they’re always like that, clingy. 

maybe radford and kevin aren’t the only ones who have been having relationship issues lately. 

once the movie’s over, radford dusts his lap free of the popcorn they’d run out of within the first fifteen minutes of the movie and offers to help streber and ethan clean up the living room. there isn’t much mess there that wasn’t already there, though; the bong water stains on the couch were already there, as were the chip slivers that had fallen between the cushions. empty water bottles were stood on end and toppled over on the coffee table, which is covered in so many notebooks it’s hard to see the natural wood underneath. 

yeah, so streber’s not the cleanest. at least that means he doesn’t have to make his friends feel bad for the messes they leave behind. he glances at the three kernels of popcorn radford brushed onto the floor, then at ethan, who’s practically asleep and drooling on his shoulder. they should probably go home…knowing himself, he won’t be able to sleep for another several hours. 

“do you think you could drive ethan home?” streber pipes up, while radford shifts from foot to foot, waiting to hear an answer to his question - not another question. 

“u-uh,” radford definitely wasn’t expecting that. he squints through the dark at ethan. “yeah? what, do you guys not have sleep overs?”

it’s been a pretty long time since streber has stayed over at ethan’s or vice versa, and the last time…he doesn’t really want to talk about it. he just reaches around them to shake their shoulder, making certain they’re awake before he asks any questions. they mumble a little, shifting their sleepy, warm body closer to his own, and they’re so hot they feel like fire. subsequently, his own face burns, and he pushes them so they’re leaning all their weight against the couch instead of him. 

ethan blinks one eye open. “ow.” 

“i didn’t shove you that hard.” streber sighs and gnaws on his lip again. now  that hurts. “are you okay with rad taking you home?” 

they don’t seem very happy about the prospect. they glance over their shoulder at radford, then back at streber. “why can’t I just sleep on your couch?” 

streber sighs, once again, feeling like a broken record. they’ve definitely had this exact conversation before. “you know why.” he eyes radford, who’s been inching towards the door. he usually isn’t this ready to leave their hangouts; maybe he’s also wary of the very off vibes. “sorry tonight sucked, guys. maybe next time things will be b-” 

and there’s ethan’s lips against his, pressing around them and making it hard to breathe. speaking of breathing, their breath tastes of cigarette, like they’ve been holding the essence of the tobacco product in their mouth since their last one an hour ago. he does his best to kiss back, even though his lips hurt and their breath stinks. he catches radford trying not to watch, or pretending he wasn’t - two very different connotations, frankly - when he pulls away and wishes his partner as good of a night as he can muster. 

and when they’re gone, when they both finally leave after their sleepy, muttered goodbyes, streber’s left on the floor with an aching body and a dry mouth that desperately needs to be rinsed out. his lips are even starting to chap, even more painful now that there’s hardly any skin there. 

it’ll be harder to go to bed tonight, harder to force some sort of ‘routine,’ and he knows it. so he doesn’t even try as he rests his forehead against his wobbly knees. 

fuck .

Chapter Text

the way home is always longer than radford thinks. not by mileage; it’s more emotion than anything. though, if radford was to spill all of his emotions, they’d surely stretch all the way back to the apartment building and then some. 

ethan’s kicked back in the front seat, their heavy boots on the dash of the old truck. they know how to make themself comfortable anywhere, even somewhere they aren’t necessarily welcome. their cheek is pressed against the passenger side window, their makeup surely smearing against it. 

radford huffs out a sigh as he turns his attentions back to the road. it’s not like he wants to watch ethan, but he knows if he turns on any music to distract himself, they’ll take that as an automatic invitation to judge what he’s playing and go through his phone to play something else. see, this is why he prefers driving kevin. the silence, if there is any, is way less awkward, and kevin has worn down over the years enough to not complain about radford playing ween’s most brown songs on loop. 

okay, that’s an exaggeration, but still…ethan isn’t kevin. any energy they send his way is driving his hands closer to his hair to tug. instead, his grip tightens on the steering wheel.

”so what’s up with kevin?” ethan’s devil-may-care voice breaks the silence when radford turns on their street. 

the question is so strange radford wishes they had just continued to sit in awkward silence.

he also isn’t sure how to answer, because frankly, he doesn’t know how things got so off track. since their teen years, he and kevin have been pretty close. sure, they’ve gotten into some petty little arguments, especially in high school, but this behavior is almost uncalled for when it comes to kevin. maybe he’s just been having a rough time at work. that’s what radford has been hoping. 

because if he’s being honest? he’s in a weird spot when it comes to friends right now. graduation bid farewell to the rest of the techies in the drama club, and that feels like a lifetime ago even though it’s only been four or five years. all those people that he promised he’d keep in touch with have disappeared without a trace, the laughter and smiles and projects and plays all washed away with them.

and of those who are left? streber’s usually with ethan, who has never really been a friend of radford’s so much as a constant presence. kevin’s acting weird. and rick…well, who knows if rick can even be considered a friend of radford’s. sometimes he can be, but most of the time he’s just his roommate. the one thing keeping radford from living in the truck that ethan’s making themself very at home in.

oh, right, ethan. he realizes he still hasn’t answered the guy’s question the moment he sees one of their perfectly plucked eyebrows arching at him. “kevin’s just been having a rough time at work.”

”yeah?” ethan’s eyebrow only raises higher.

radford winces. “yeah.” he pulls into ethan’s driveway. “um, we’re here.”

”i think i know what my own house looks like,” ethan chuckles. it doesn’t feel like a good chuckle, though, like streber’s when radford first got to his apartment earlier. radford had told some story about a family trying to sneak their dog into the theater, and they had it in a stroller, swaddled like a baby. and streber thought that was so, so funny. but ethan’s laughter is just a little too clean to be genuine, just like they are. “thanks for the ride. wish you didn’t have to drive me, though.”

”your car’s still in the shop?”

”no,” ethan says, glancing over their shoulder to their car. it’s parked right in front of where radford’s sitting. great, so now he looks stupid. “just wish my partner actually wanted to spend time with me.” and for a moment, they look something other than smarmy. but the expression fades as quickly as it appears. “ah, whatever. i’m probably just getting in my head about it. night, radford.”

radford echoes them with a vaguely directed goodnight, though he just sits in their driveway for a while. not to make sure they get into their house safe. 

the steering wheel is cool against his forehead, which he’s only now realized is sweaty beyond belief. maybe he’s coming down with something, he lies to himself, and reverses back onto the road. 

his clammy, sweaty palms slip on the wheel as the streetlights draw long, blurry lines across his vision. 

maybe they twist and bend to form kevin’s humorless, ever-deepening frown. maybe they paint a picture of streber’s wide-eyed stare as ethan kissed him, discomfort clear.

then again, maybe they don’t.

maybe it’s just him.

Chapter Text

his mouth is dry as bones the next morning. 

oh, how he hates waking up like that. at least the crusty sand left over from the sandman is satisfying to clean out, but there’s nothing even moderately enjoyable about the desert that is his mouth and throat. it’s even worse when he chugs water from a glass on the nightstand and it not only does nothing to help, but tastes odd. 

he swallows it down, wrinkling his nose at the awful taste.

his joints crack and pop like he hasn’t moved in eons as he drags himself out of his dingy mattress shoved in the corner. it’s just as stained as his couch…and now that he thinks of it, some of the stains seem new.

he looks down between his legs and finds familiar rust-colored stains on his inner thighs.

dammit.

honestly, he doesn’t mind his period that much, despite his cramps being terrible. it’s always mostly been a nuisance, trying to drag him down as he trudges his way through the week. at least now he has some motivation to actually clean his sheets for once.

scrubbing a hand down his face, he  tosses his pillows towards the door, his sheets and blankets eventually following suit. every day he thanks his apartment complex for actually having a washer and dryer, unlike radford’s; if he had to lug his bloody bedclothes to a laundromat, he’d actually kill himself. 

the cherry on top of his unspectacular morning is the text that greets him when he opens his phone. well, more like texts. they’re mostly from ethan, although there’s some from radford too. 

streber doesn’t let himself read radford’s first, because he shouldn’t. he should read his partner’s first. it’s the right thing to do.

eth: hi bby

eth: i guess you’ve gone to bed

eth: just wanted to say goodnight

eth: text me when you get up <3

eth: good morning 

eth: you didn’t text me !

streber sighs and clears ethan’s notifications. he’s not in the mood for that right now. is that a good way to feel about his partner? probably not. he decides to blame it on hormones and cramps as he pops a midol and moves on to radford’s notifications. 

rad: Im sorry tonight aas bad! tou shoukd have taken the couch like i said

rad: Also i hope i didn’t bother with the kicking B:( i just love scream!!!!! 

streber finds himself staring at radford’s silly little glasses emoticon for maybe a bit too long.

rad: But you knew that! you know everything

rad: Omay I’ll leave you alone

rad: Have a RAD night! (get it?)

rad: Remember today is dollar movie day! you should come visit so you can save lots of money.! extort me!

rad: That doesn’t sound good actually. pls doent but iWILL use my discount for you!

radford’s typing is always such a mess, and it’s impossible to not be endeared. streber chuckles. he feels a little bad that he ignored both radford and ethan’s texts in favor of his late night doomscrolling, which eventually turned into late night writing. he remembers, all too well, how much his phone buzzed next to him when he switched to the computer. he’s also kind of wondering how many other texts he got, but just didn’t see on his lockscreen because his phone was open when he got them.

well, that’s a problem for later, just like always. he starts “making” himself “breakfast,” listening to the obnoxiously loud washer as his bedding is tossed around inside. he spreads marmalade on perfectly browned toast and uncaps his olive jar next, sticking a fork inside for once he’s done with his toast. 

so maybe his morning routine kind of sucks too. he hasn’t had a balanced meal ever since he moved out of his mom’s all those years ago. for all her failings, at least he could give her that. now he just survives on jars of pickles, olives, and pepperoncinis when he isn’t just eating chips and the occasional pasta dish or sandwich. breakfast, lunch, and dinner is pickled vegetables. 

he thinks back to radford’s offer; streber rarely takes advantage of radford’s friends and family discount at the theater, which is ironic. it’s almost like he’s been going less since radford started working there. he knows it’s because life has gotten in the way, but it’s almost like he feels like he’s troubling the guy even though he most certainly loves his job. especially compared to when he worked at sonic or the crust corner…streber sighs. maybe he can use the discount to get a sort of balanced meal at the theater. that, and some entertainment, will probably do him some good on this lonely day off, rather than wallowing as his cramps claw their horrid fingers against his uterus. 

well. they don’t actually work like that, but still. he can be metaphorical sometimes. 

he screws the cap on the olive jar. if he’s going to go, there’s no time like the present, right?

Chapter Text

radford fears for the worst. 

all of the texts he’s sent this morning, aside from his good morning to robbie, have gone completely unanswered - both kevin’s and streber’s. he’s probably turned his phone on and off seven times by now, hoping that maybe it’s just the old device finally giving up on him and that streber and kevin’s responses are going to flood his phone in a few moments…

evidently, it’s not that.

radford groans, letting his forehead fall smack against the counter. despite his current disdain for it, he takes care not to crush his phone. aside from everything else going on, the theater’s been pretty much empty. he’s definitely wiped down the same spot of the counter about three times in a last ditch effort to keep busy so he stops thinking about…

streber!

it’s ridiculous how he can physically feel the frustration leaving his body the moment he sees that familiar silhouette step through the front doors of the theater. he chuckles and tucks his phone away, leaving it to be forgotten. 

“oh man,” radford says as streber walks closer with purpose. “i’m so glad to see you!” 

streber raises an eyebrow. “yeah?”

”yeah.” radford shifts from foot to foot, playing with his greasy, buttery sleeves and tugging them away from his skin. eugh. he wishes he was better at keeping them away from the popcorn. “i really mean it. i could kiss you.” a weird expression crosses streber’s face before radford realizes what he says. he curses himself as his smile falters, but doesn’t take it back. after all, that’s a casual saying, right? i’m so happy i could kiss you? “it’s been so boring! you’d think dollar movies would attract people, but it’s almost like they don’t want to save money.”

streber seems to shake away the look he had. “you think they’re going to stop doing the promotion?”

”nah.” radford glances at the sun-bleached sign on the doors advertising the dollar movie promotion. “it’s been around for years, and it’s always been like this. it’s a way to encourage more people to come in on days that typically aren’t popular for movies, y’know?”

or at least, that’s how he’s come to understand it. if only it did motivate people to come in, then it’d be a great financial decision. he’s sure that they’ll probably close the theater in its entirety before they figure that out.

but he can tell streber’s getting antsy, so he gets back to the subject. “speaking of movies, whaddya wanna watch today?”

streber squints at the board displaying the movies behind radford. to make it easier, radford ducks out of the way. “tch. well, there’s box cutter, and box cutter two: the reel terror cut.” the goth snorts. “what’s that even mean? ‘reel terror’ cut.”

”it’s like, the director’s pretentious way of naming the director’s cut. it’s got all new footage. i guess you could say it’s ‘reelly’ exclusive.” streber laughs, though it’s half-hearted. again, radford’s smile wavers. maybe there’s more to this visit than streber’s letting on? it wouldn’t be out of character for him…radford decides to probe a little. “but really man. did you actually come here for a movie? is everything okay?”

he watches streber’s face wrinkle in slight distress. “everything’s fine.” that’s a lie. “hey, um, do you think i could get something to eat?”

“sure!” radford replies cheerily, happy that at least streber wants food. “popcorn? or were you thinking more of a balanced meal?”

streber eyes the golden popcorn that’s pop-pop-popping against the glass, then the concessions menu. “is there anything that isn’t overpriced?”

radford is all too aware of how pricey the concessions are, but, “remember my discount,” he chuckles, waggling his fingers at streber. doing so allows him a glance at his watch. “and honestly, it’s almost break time for me…so why don’t we eat together?”

streber furrows his thick eyebrows and doesn’t meet radford’s gaze. “uh, sure?”

”you don’t seem excited.” 

“no, no, just,” streber purses his lips. “i, uh, yeah, sure. it’ll be like high school.”

”just without ethan and kevin,” radford muses. he doesn’t see how streber tenses at ethan’s name, instead turning his attention to the menu as well. he gets something for free once a shift, so…maybe he can get a personal pizza for them to share? but he knows he can eat a full personal pizza and still not get full…whatever. at least streber wants to eat something other than olives and pickles straight from the jar. “you want some pizza?”

”that depends, is it just withering under a heating lamp or is it actually cooked in an oven?” 

“pfff.” streber already knows the answer. radford looks over his shoulder at the pizza that’s very much withering. “okay, never mind. but you can’t find issues with everything, all right?”

”me, not find issues with everything?” streber asks, incredulous as he leans against the counter. at least he’s smirking now, his snagglefangs poking out over his bottom lip. “come on, rad, you know me.”

radford drags his gaze away from his friend’s little grin and surveys the rest of the counter. large hot dogs turn on the machine. a fellow coworker is back with a fresh batch of fries. “why not hot dogs and fries?”

”fries don’t go with hot dogs.”

now he’s just being facetious. “all right, well you’re gonna have to suck it up. ‘cause neither do pickles!”

streber laughs. it’s always been interesting to hear - it’s always different, but the way it makes radford’s stomach flutter is always the same. “explain relish, then.”

”ewww! do you eat straight relish, man?” radford rolls up his annoyingly long sleeves and shoves on some gloves. streber watches him way too closely as he grabs two plates, two buns, and eventually two hot dogs. he sets the tongs down. “so instead of fries, i guess you want a whole mountain of relish, then.”

”no, that’s disgusting.” streber wrinkles his nose. “i hate relish. it doesn’t even taste like pickles.”

radford just shakes his head. streber’s so weird. he serves up the hot, crispy fries to both of their plates, then hands one to streber. 

“what about the discount?” 

radford shrugs. “well, this is the RAD friends and family discount, which means it’s on the house.”

”now that’s extortion,” streber says, looking down at his plate in what might be called awe. “and to think i didn’t have to lift a finger. are you sure you won’t get in trouble?” 

“positive!” no he isn’t. “now c’mon, it’s break time. my coworker’s already here to take my spot.” radford waves at his coworker, who grimaces in response. sometimes he feels like the only one who actually wants to be there. he sighs and hops the counter, to streber’s amusement. 

at least the person who matters is smiling. and it’s because of him.

as he leads streber to the break room, he thinks back to the previous night. the way streber’s eyes fluttered to radford when ethan kissed him. the way they didn’t close, and the way he didn’t melt into it. he didn’t smile at ethan, not really. but he smiles at radford. probably the only non-family member who does.

the break room door swings open with a loud creak, and radford ushers streber inside, careful not to drop his plate. he flicks on the break room lights, then shuts the door. after setting down his lunch (maybe now it’d be considered dinner) he goes to punch out his timecard before melting into a chair. 

aaah. he hasn’t sat down in hours. he never realizes how badly his feet hurt until he sits down. 

streber seems to feel a similar relief as he starts eating. sure, radford expected to mayyybe be able to talk a little when they got back here, but this is fine too. he doesn’t realize he’s staring until a fly buzzes by his face and he waves it away from his own completely untouched food.

he slumps down in his chair and eats his own food in odd silence. the overhead lights flicker. there’s a rumbling sound from another theater - probably one of the box cutter showings. 

and then there’s streber’s voice.

”hey, rad?”

”yeah?”

there’s a long pause. 

“you have some ketchup on your chin.” streber, on his own face, taps an area a little further down from the right corner of his lips. 

radford grabs a napkin off of the table and dabs at his chin; when he pulls the napkin away, though, it’s clear of ketchup. “where?”

streber shows him again. after a few more failed attempts, though, streber grabs the napkin and swipes it across his chin. sure enough, a huge glob of deep red ketchup stains the paper. “how do you not feel that?”

radford snickers, adopting the voice of a pro wrestler. or…something. he’s not actually sure what he’s going for. ”i’m just too hardcore.”

“uh huh.” streber leans his chin into his hand. “‘radford hannigan’ and ‘hardcore’ don’t belong in the same sentence. sorry to be the one to tell you.”

“as if you’re any better,” radford retorts. “i’ve heard you baby talk to those rats of yours.”

”yet you haven’t heard me baby talk anything else,” streber says, tapping his chin. “unlike you. you’ve apologized to people for absolutely no reason. like that girl in high school? when you ‘knocked her books onto the ground’?”

radford remembers that all too well - and that isn’t exactly what he’d been trying to do. embarrassingly enough, he’d been trying to manufacture a meet cute when the girl dropped her books and pretended like it was his fault. how pathetic. 

not that he’s any better now. 

he clears his throat and looks away from streber, trying to savor the kind of shitty hot dog. “yeah, well. you know how i am.”

”exactly. and you aren’t hardcore.” streber doesn’t seem to pick up radford’s discomfort as he pushes the subject. “even the movies you watch aren’t hardcore! you could never watch the really crazy stuff.” 

“you don’t, either.”

”yeah, i don’t.” streber finishes off his hot dog to focus on his fries. “stuff like that feels really exploitative. and you notice how it’s usually always girls?”

”and they always gotta have bare tits at some point. ‘cause what is a girl other than what’s on her chest?” radford sticks out his tongue in disgust at the statement. he can’t believe that there are people that actually feel that way. “blegh.”

”i thought you like girls.”

radford snorts. “yeah, but i have standards.” he thrusts his thumb at his chest. “i actually like girls.”

and, well, it isn’t just girls. and it’s not because he’s scared to tell his friends about it, of course, but he’s been the ‘token straight friend’ for so long that it’s hard to admit that he’s never been. 

his gaze flits to streber. 

obviously. 

he nearly chokes on his french fries when he notices streber looking at him. he pushes his fallen curls out of his face so they don’t get sweaty. “hey, have you talked to ethan today?”

streber groans a little. 

they don’t talk for the rest of radford’s break. 

Chapter Text

streber leaves the theater feeling full, both with food and with regret towards showing up in the first place. he should’ve stayed home. he should’ve never left his bed this morning, fuck. 

he’s such a bad partner. ethan’s been trying to reach out and talk to him this whole time, and sure even though they aren’t the best for him, they’re still trying to be that. meanwhile, what has he been? awful.

his stomach aches, raring to dispel anything and everything he managed to eat. he ate too fast, of course, which was part of the problem, but he knows himself - and he knows all too well about how physically his emotions manifest. and right now, they’re manifesting like this. 

he covers his face with his hands when he finally makes it into his car. worse still, it’s impossible not to feel radford’s cloudy green eyes on him, magnified by his thick lenses and, in turn, magnifying streber’s guilt. because what an awful way to treat both of them. 

streber sighs and starts the car, head still resting on the steering wheel. his fingers linger on the jingling keys. 

why did radford have to ask about ethan? everything was fine before that! everything was great before that! streber feels like he’s melting through the fibers of the driver’s seat as he grips at his keys and the wheel. he just doesn’t understand why this feels so bad. 

he finally lets his hands drop and he pulls out his phone with shaky hands. after opening ethan’s texts, he starts typing…well, something. even if he doesn’t know what to say, he can try. he’s a writer, it shouldn’t be too hard to find the words.

streber: hi eth <3

streber: hi

streber: heyyy

streber: at the theater 

all somewhat great ideas, yet he still can’t bring himself to send any of them. 

he doesn’t know why, but he feels like he’ll never be able to talk to them again. and with the continuous feeling of radford’s eyes on him, he wonders if, perhaps, ethan might already know why.

Chapter Text

it’s always hard to tell what color streber’s hair is. at least, until he steps into the sun. the sun reveals the deep brown color that looks little more than black without it. 

but radford doesn’t get to see it today. 

the sun’s shrouded behind the clouds, keeping that facet of streber hidden away. and radford sighs as he watches his friend retreat into the brewing storm. 

he doesn’t really know what he did wrong. maybe it was bringing up ethan, but then, why would that be a problem? unless streber doesn’t really like them…but if he doesn’t, he sure does a good job of hiding it. streber’s good at hiding in general, and takes lots of care in deciding when and how he comes back out. 

radford leans his chin in his palm as he goes back to wiping that same spot on the counter. he’s well-prepared for hours of nothing, except for maybe listening to the thunder roll above the theater. it’s always strange when it storms while he’s at work. at least then he’ll be able to watch the water pour down into the sewers of main street. any entertainment is good entertainment, he supposes.

but streber is so much better. not that he’s ‘entertainment’ or that he was just there for radford’s benefit, but he is entertaining. the little comments he makes, even if they tend to (jokingly!) be at radford’s expense, are so funny. he’s smart with his words and knows how to organize them for his purposes, despite being more reclusive than most. than radford. and radford can’t put together a sentence to save his life.

maybe, ultimately, that’s why streber rushed out. because radford said something weird. 

radford thinks back to their conversation - why did he talk about breasts like that? even if it was a commentary, it feels crude looking back on it now. he pushes his hands into his hair and gives a light tug. it can be any number of things, and he’s sure streber will never tell.

there’s a loud crack of thunder outside, and the walls of the old theater shudder. radford’s inclined to shudder with them. 

right around then, his other coworker comes back from the break room and walks over to the glass doors. more lightning flashes inside, soon followed by another ominous roll of thunder. “i don’t see why we aren’t just allowed to go home,” his coworker says, rolling her eyes. 

“what, you don’t want to hydroplane down main street tonight, b?” radford chuckles, hopping over the counter. he always does that, even though it’s not much more walking to properly get around it. he joins his coworker, bianca, by the door, watching as the first raindrops darken the asphalt outside. “i don’t think it’ll be that bad.”

”depends what you think is bad.” bianca stretches her arms in front of her with a satisfying pop, then loops them back around her head to adjust her platinum ponytail. “hey, do you think your partner’s going to be okay driving home in all this?”

“yeah, i dunno,” radford muses, not thinking too hard about the question before he does a double take. “wait, partner?” 

“yeah.” bianca looks at him like he’s stupid. “dude, you sat with him in the break room for like thirty minutes just to talk and eat. is he not your partner?”

radford’s face is as red as a strawberry. he can both feel and see it in the glass. “um, no?”

”shit.” bianca whistles. “are you suuure?”

”i’m sure,” radford stammers. “w-“

”good, ‘cause i’ve been dying to ask you out.”

radford’s face grows redder as he turns to his coworker. he can’t describe the expression he’s trying to make, but it feels like it’s turned out being bewildered. “really.”

”psh, no.” bianca snickers and goes back to watching the storm. “no, i don’t swing that way. but really, you should ask him out at some point, man. you’d be really cute together.”

radford sighs. how has his coworker, who’s only been around him for a few months, pegged him as bisexual (or at the very least, not straight) when his friend group hasn’t been able to for literal years? 

“yeah, maybe i will.”

no, he won’t. but he’s not that interested in talking anymore about this topic, at least with bianca. he doesn’t want to go into ethan, and he doesn’t even know how to tackle how his friends have basically forced him into the closet. 

so he doesn’t. 

he just continues to watch the storm, even when he’s left alone.