It's the drugs. He tells himself. It's the goddamned whisky.
But good-fucking-god, does Ezra make shitty dim bar lighting look like a heavenly glow. Everything that man touches becomes the divine.
Rick drags himself a little closer. Maybe Ezra's presence can make him a bit more righteous, too.
"Rick...?" Ezra queries.
Rick reaches up and pushes Ezra's locs behind his ear. "Y-you're c-cute when y-you're confused..." he stutters and slurs.
Ezra smiles. There's a slyness to it. "Then I guess it's a good thing that you never cease to baffle me."
Rick's breath hitches. He smothers it with uneven laughter.