It hadn't been that long since they were pretty much at each other's throats and now…
'I'm offering him a ride?'
He wasn't given much time to change his mind even if he wanted to as Dave was already seated in the passenger's seat practically grinning from ear to ear.
"Sure. No problem. And I don't wanna hear any spoilers about the movie," the younger replied, starting up the car and pulling the shift gear into reverse, "you gotta stop at home and grab a uniform or anything?" he asked, keeping his foot on the brake pedal as he awaited Dave's response.
"Nope. I'm already wearing it." Dave pulled down the zipper on his jacket to reveal a peak of the dark blue polo shirt and name tag underneath. A dorky smile played on his face while he yanked the pull of his zipper back up.
Chris felt his heart race ever so slightly. "Uh, alright. Yeah." He was stumbling over almost every word which was very unlike him and he seemed to be gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual as they sped down the streets towards the theater.
He could barely keep his eyes on the road, continuously glancing over at the rather attractive older boy beside him. He never recalled Dave Lizewski being this good-looking. Come to think of it, he never recalled any guy being good-looking. 'Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with me?' silently berating himself, 'just haven't seen him in a while, that's all. We've both changed. No big deal.' He tried to convince himself, but failing miserably in the process.
They were mostly silent during the drive to Dave's work; it seemed neither one knew what to really say to the other. It wasn't entirely uncomfortable though, in fact Chris rather enjoyed the company.
He pulled around back to the theater parking lot and placed the car in park, tapping his fingers anxiously on the wheel as he thought of something to say. "So uh, we're here," Chris spoke up. 'Well duh, idiot.' He offered a foolish grin, catching the other man beaming just as much as himself.
'I probably look like a moron.' Dave mentally noted that he was smiling too much. He wanted to say more to the boy, but he was at a loss for words.
'God, he looks so good when he smiles...' Again with the uncomfortable silence as Chris wished he could think of something, anything, to say before Dave left.
"Wait!" he called, as he reached for Dave's wrist to stop him from climbing out of the car, "Umm, how bout I give you my number and you can call me when you wanna hang out." Chris tore a section from a scrap piece of paper lying around and grabbed a pen from the cup holder to write his name and number down for Dave; his hands shaking in the process as he handed it to his new friend.
Chris watched as Dave entered the building before taking off for his home as quick as he could.
- o - o - o -
The next few monotonous hours were spent sitting around inside of a booth, exchanging movie tickets for cash. It was all so incredibly dull that Dave found himself wondering about his new friend, and if he had a job. 'Probably not.' He thought. It was common knowledge that the D'amico's were loaded, and it made little sense for Chris to have a job with all that money at his disposal. 'Anybody that rich would probably be working some high profile job, and getting paid $100 bucks an hour.'
When his shift was over, Dave shrugged his hoodie on, eager to escape his tiny, compact prison. However, before he could reach the exit to the building, the girl working the booth next to his, Jessica, (she had about as much personality as a pile of bricks, but made up for it with her incredible hotness) approached him. Dave didn't get too excited though. He'd been in similar situations such as this where women would approach him, and ask if he was gay or if he wanted to be their gay best friend. As it turned out, Jessica wasn't any different.
She had gushed to him how cute he and his 'boyfriend' looked and he could barely get a word in edgewise, much less correct her error with her incessant chit-chat. "You should go for guys with better cars though." She advised. "I have this friend, George. He drives a Porsche, and he's really into tall guys like you-"
"I'm not gay." His words had an desirable effect and Jessica's mouth fell shut quickly while a betrayed look crossed her features. 'I never said I was gay. Why the shit is she giving me that look? Is that fucking rumor still going around?' He thought, walking past her on his way home.
He was sure to stay alert for the thief who stole his only form of transportation, just in case they decided to go peddling around this area. Unfortunately for him, the petty thug had better sense than to do something as stupid as that and Dave was soon climbing the steps to his house, and letting himself inside. Tired and bike-less.
He was greeted by his exhausted looking dad. Sometimes he felt like he took his father for granted. He knew how hard the guy worked to earn funding for his college. It was the part of the reason why he put his superhero business on the back burner and concentrated more on his studying, and work.
Dave and his father spent a few minutes talking about the usual sort of stuff, how work was going, and if he was doing good in school. He didn't mention anything about his missing bike. It was one less thing his father had to worry about. The conversation ended with his dad being too tired to continue speaking, and excusing himself to his bedroom. Dave bounded up the steps for his own room, removing his jacket as he went and draping it over the banister. Next he took off his glasses and placed them on his nightstand. The lanky man then began peeling off the rest of his clothing, letting them pool at his feet before pausing at the button of his pants.
Dave searched his pockets for the folded piece of paper Chris had given him hours before, and picked up his nearby cellphone to add the boy to his contacts. Now that he had Chris's number stored on his phone, he didn't really need to keep the paper anymore. Still, he felt like it held some sort of significance and he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. Dave smiled to himself as he smoothed the paper out, and set it beside his glasses. It was the last thing he did before switching off his lamp and falling asleep.
- o - o - o -
Pulling into his reserved spot in the underground parking lot to the condominium, Chris frantically racked his brain for an acceptable excuse, but knowing all too well what was in store for him. Fuck it; it was completely worth it. He couldn't help but smile at that thought as he pressed the top floor button on the elevator.
"Christopher!" flinching at the bellowing call of his name coming from his father's office, 'Shit.' He had tried his best to sort of sneak in and make it to his bedroom before his father noticed.
"Get in here, boy."
Chris shakily turned the doorknob to the office and tried to compose himself as best he could before entering, however barely making it a few steps into the room before his father's much larger frame was looming over him. He wasn't given a chance for an explanation before he was backhanded hard across the face and hitting his head on the wall directly behind him; wiping the right side of his lip with the back of his hand as the taste of blood appeared in his mouth.
It hurt, but it certainly didn't come as a surprise. Frank D'Amico never approved of his son; Chris had never been good enough in his eyes. His mother was smart to leave when she did.
He felt a hand grip tightly in his hair as he was forced to look up at his father who began his usual furious screams of accusations and insults which Chris had learned to tune out early on whilst pretending to listen to every word.
Feeling he damn well had gotten his point across to the boy, Frank roughly shoved his son out of the room without another word and slammed the door.
'Well that wasn't so bad.' Chris thought as he staggered down the hall to his bedroom, dizzy from where he hit his head and grimacing at the copper taste in his mouth. And still, he did not regret one moment of it.
- o - o - o -
The next morning Chris awoke early as he normally did to finish up an assignment for the business program that he was taking in college. It wasn't due until the following Wednesday, but his father demanded the weekend be used for schoolwork. Whereas most people his age would be out having fun, Chris could be found stuck at home seated at his computer until his work was complete and to Frank's standards.
He didn't bother showering, only threw on a pair of jeans and went straight for his computer to get as much done as possible so he wasn't stuck here all day. Not that it mattered as he was probably grounded for the weekend anyways. 'Who grounds their twenty-one year old? Fuck.'
He always thought on just getting his own place, but that would mean he would need money, which as it may come to a surprise to most, Chris didn't have. He was kept on a very small allowance and besides, not having worked a day in his life, he couldn't see any place hiring him with his lack of experience.
Starting up his computer, Chris rested his face into his hand as he waited for the device to boot up. He winced at the contact and quickly brought his head back up; figuring he probably had a decent sized bruise from when his father hit him the night before. 'Great.'
He was running out of excuses when others questioned him as to what happened and using the 'I got in a fight' excuse was getting old fast.
By habit, Chris logged into his social media account first before starting any work; a useless move as he barely had anyone on his friend's list. He scrolled through the list of name's that were online as a sudden thought popped into his head. Clicking the search bar he typed in Dave's full name and easily found his profile before scanning through the man's pictures.
'Heh. Dork.' Chris smiled widely as he came across old high school pics of his new friend.
'It wouldn't be totally creepy to add him, right? I mean, we're friends now..' Chris hovered the mouse over the Add Friend button and instead figured he'd message him first.
'Don't sound weird. Just a simple hello.' He was making far too big a deal out of this than he should.
'hey! its chris :-).' He typed before hitting the Send button and leaning back in his chair with a sigh of relief. Probably could have done without the smiley icon though.
'There. How hard was that?'
Apparently pretty difficult as he realized he had just wasted over an hour scrolling through Dave's entire profile and driving himself nuts as to what to say to the guy. He was never the type that was ever at a loss for words, but when it came to Dave, Chris could hardly manage a basic 'hello'. And trying to comprehend why wasn't something he had time for at the moment.
'Damnit. Gotta finish this essay.' He tried to keep his mind busy with the incredibly boring paper on Entrepreneurship (crap he already knew a lot about anyways with his family having a business of their own), but couldn't help tabbing over to his social media account every so often, more like every thirty seconds, to check his messages.
'Why hasn't he replied yet? Maybe I shouldn't have messaged him. Maybe…maybe he's just not online right now. Did I piss him off somehow?'
He passed off his anxiousness as just excitement of having a new friend that he could actually talk about comic books and video games with, be himself around rather than having to keep up that intimidating, corrupt D'amico image that everyone feared.
- o - o - o -
Dave would have given anything to get out of work early. The theater was buzzing with people, like it normally did on weekends. The lines of people forming in front of Jessica's and his booth were starting to become impatient the longer they waited to be serviced. One particular man went off on him about how slow he was, and told him in an angry voice that a machine could replace him at his job before he snatched his tickets and walked deeper into the theater. Dave worked as quickly and efficiently as he could to meet his customers demands, and when the flow of people started to ebb away, he felt thankful that he could finally have a little peace.
If Dave was claustrophobic, this wouldn't be his ideal job (not that it was already, he hated it in fact). The box he had to remain inside was extremely stuffy. He silently made a vow to himself that he would never get a job again where he was forced to sit inside a cube for six hours. The experience was not unlike being trapped inside a cage.
Dave pulled out his phone from his pocket and began fiddling around with it. He knew that if his manager caught him, he'd be in for another lecture (the guy didn't like him for some reason), but he almost wanted that to happen just so he would have an excuse to quit. But there weren't any available job spots in his area, he'd been looking, and until one opened up, Dave was stuck with his incredibly lame career of ticket selling.
He checked for any missed messages or texts, but there was none. Dave sighed to himself. He should really try to socialize more, his friends barely contacted him anymore and he found himself deleting more and more of the numbers in his phone. He guessed that was the price he payed for trying to be responsible, and working and studying instead of partying around like everyone else. 'I haven't checked my facebook in a while, I wounder if I got any messages on there...'
Dave logged into his account and was promptly directed to home, where in the corner of the page flashed red, signaling that someone indeed was trying to contact him. He smiled to himself as he recognized the sender, and began typing his own message as a reply. 'hey, what's up?' He hit enter, and the message sent. He hoped the other boy was still online, his reply was a little late.
Focusing on work deemed nearly impossible; Chris was far too distracted with Facebook, impatiently awaiting a reply from someone who, only a day ago, he had loathed more than anything. His heart jumped at the alert of a new message and his pulse quickened when he saw who it was from. It was highly unlikely that essay will be finished now.
'homework -_-. u?' he responded with eagerness.
Dave spared a quick glance around himself, checking to see if anyone was looking, before he typed his own reply and hit send. 'Work. It's boring here.'
'That was quick' Chris thought to himself with a grin as he immediately replied back.
'i would luv to work there! u guys prolly get discounts on all the movies and see all the new ones before anyone else gets to.'
He was secretly jealous of Dave's life; sure, they weren't as well-off like Chris' family was, but to just live a normal life was something he always dreamed of.
'It does have some benefits, I'll admit.' Dave wrote back. 'There are a lot of things that suck about it too, like the douche bag manager, and these stupid booths.' He thought.
'i'd come visit u on ur break or somethin but i'm kinda grounded.'
'That sucks, man. When you're done being grounded, hit me up, and we could meet somewhere.'
Chris smirked as he read the last part of Dave's message; apparently he wasn't that familiar with Frank D'amico. 'when i'm done being grounded. lol . that's a good one man. prolly gonna have to just sneak out again.' Chris very much considered this idea. It was time he started making his own decisions as to who he hung out with and when he chose to come home; he wasn't a damn teenager anymore.
'It's kinda weird that you aren't allowed to go anywhere. My dad lost the ability to ground me when I was 18. We're like, legally adults now.'
'his house, his rules,' was all he could come back with. Chris had never known any differently, but that never stopped him from doing what he wanted from time to time. Writing up another message, he hit send. 'what time u finish work at? maybe we could grab a drink or somethin to eat or whatever.' 'What the fuck am I doing!?' It was like, his fingers just kept typing while his brain was screaming at him to stop.
'A drink sounds good right about now. ;) my shift is over in another hour.' Was he really going to meet up with Chris again? It was almost like he landed himself in a parallel universe where they didn't hate each other.
'Did he just send me the wink icon? That's…kinda gay, but whatever.' Chris chuckled at this whilst viewing the rest of the message. He took a glance at his Rolex; alright, still had lots of time if Dave finished work in an hour.
'we can just drink here if u want. my dads working super late tonight so I got the place to myself. totally got the new call of duty if ur interested. :D'
'Did I seriously just invite this guy to my house? Dave fuckin Lizewski?' Yep.
There was a clicking sound of the door opening, and Dave swiveled in his chair to face the wall as he stuffed his phone inside his pants. When his cell was hidden from sight, Dave turned back around to see who was imposing on his space. It was his manager, Gary. The old man stood there with an accusing glare. "No slacking. We don't pay you kids to play with your little gadgets." Not waiting for a response, he left the room to pester some other employee.
Dave sighed, typing out one last text before pressing send. 'Manager just stormed in and caught me texting you. igtg. And all of that sounds good.'
Not wanting Dave to get into any more trouble than he was already in with his boss, Chris didn't reply and instead closed his computer down and headed straight for his en-suite bathroom to get ready.
A.N. - This is a roleplay between me and Jayden Blake. I play as Dave and Mindy. My amazingly talented partner acts as Chris, Frank, and Damon. Once again I'd like to point out that this is a slight AU. That means most of the events that occurred in both Kick-Ass 1 and 2 don't pertain to this plot. And be sure not to make any assumptions about the characters, and their back stories. In this fic, Chris doesn't know Dave is actually Kick Ass and the boys are 21.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kick-Ass nor do I make a profit from any of my stories.