Reilly set down another large plate of eggs and bacon in front of Ricky who immediately began scarfing it down. EJ sat next to him nervously toying at his eggs with his fork. The radio was playing soft piano music on the counter nearby and the hum of a vacuum could be heard from another room. Every once in a while, an employee of the house would rust past carrying cleaning supplies, packages, or dishes. The entire household was busy in preparation for the return of one Mr. and Mrs. Caswell.
"You seem to have worked up quite an appetite, Richard, was it?" Reilly asked Ricky, lifting EJ's plate away at the same time. "Finished?"
EJ nodded, not looking up. How could he look Reilly in the face right now? Sure Reilly wasn't his dad, but it still felt just as awkward. He had been beating around the bush about Ricky and EJ's morning activities and had all but implied that he knew that they had just had had sex more than once upstairs. It was mortifying.
"YoucancallmeRicky." Ricky said through a mouthful of bacon.
Ricky was seemingly oblivious to the fact that Reilly knew what was going on between them. Or at least if he did understand Reilly's insinuations, he didn't seem to care. But that was Ricky for you, food first, thinking last.
"Ricky. Alright. Well I'm glad to see you enjoy Hilda's cooking. A fresh mouth to feed around here is just what she needed I think. Or at least one that isn't so picky about his food." saying this, Reilly made a pointed look at EJ.
"It's delicious!" Ricky replied. "Much better than any eggs and bacon I've ever had! My compliments to the chef."
Reilly smiled and disappeared down a corridor. He didn't necessarily approve of EJ's sneaking about, but if he was sneaking, he might as well be doing it with a good kid like this Ricky.
"You almost done Ricky? I know your dad's probably waiting for you at home. I should get you back soon." EJ spat out. He wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from Reilly's judging eyes right now.
"If he was worried he'd call. It's fine." Ricky replied, taking a sip of his orange juice.
EJ sighed. He just wasn't going to get the hint.
"I just think we should get you back home before-" EJ began but was interrupted by Reilly re-entering the room.
"Ms. Pritty was running the linens through the wash and found these in the dryer." Reilly stated, holding out a Ricky's clothing from the day before, now dry and neatly folded in a pile. "Unless your style had changed drastically in the past forty eight hours EJ, I don't believe they're yours."
"Oh! That's where they ended up after last night! I was wondering." Ricky blurted out. EJ kicked him lightly under the table, prompting a confused look from Ricky. Reilly raised a bushy eyebrow.
"Tossing our clothes off last night were we?" Reilly asked. Before Ricky could respond with something stupid EJ cut in.
"Ricky's clothes had gotten wet at the lake yesterday." EJ said, turning to Ricky. "You forgot them in my car, so I threw them in the dryer last night. That's all."
Reilly's eyebrow dropped back to its usual vertical.
"Might I suggest that you head upstairs change into you own clothes then, Ricky? I'm sure you can't be comfortable in EJ's things, they look much to large for you." Reilly said placing the pile of clothes on the table in front of Ricky.
"Actually I was wondering if I could get another pla-" Ricky began but stopped himself as Reilly's eyebrow inched back upwards. It hadn't taken long for him to learn what that meant. "You know what yeah I'll just go...change now..."
YOU ARE READING
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FanfictionRicky Bowen is in his senior year at NYU. He's struggling with classes and a very recent "dependency" on alcohol to get him through them. So much so that he's lost sight of who he is and what he loves. It's on one significantly depressing visit to h...
