"Yeah, I'm - kind of - pleased? Is that weird? I mean, I don't think she realises I have literally never done this before but, uh. She trusts me with him." And with Alec, which was not entirely unexpected but still nice. "So, that's - it's good."
He goes to mess about with the tea things.
"How, uh, how're you doing after the flood?"
He has to this moment made a point of not asking, but it feels like there's a safe space of time between now and then.
He's not sure he can entirely believe that, but he supposes that chapter of Ricki's life ended a long time ago.
"Not a bad one. If it'd got me like, six years later? I'd probably be death tolling for being an utter shit. But that - yeah, that was the age all my mum's friends were pinching my cheeks like," he summons up the affectation of the average middle-aged woman around his estate, "oh, you're such a bright lad, you got so much potential."
"Carrot cake is still fucked up," he points out. "Vegetables don't belong in cake, it's weird."
But then he softens.
"You were - I don't know. I just wanted to look after you," he admits, quietly. He'd not been unaffected long enough that he'd had much of a chance to.
"I had been- as old as I had ever been when it happened, obviously, so I always felt as though I were perfectly grown up when it all began. I was a young man of the community. I was working. I'd- you know."
A vague gesture.
"But. Having been in his head, straight to this one- that boy was a boy."
"I know the boat I was in - nothing like yours. Not at all. I - he - he didn't really get that there was anything happening outside what he saw, you know? Little kids, it's just like - magical thinking, is that what they call it? He thought if his mum cried or drank or weren't happy, it was his fault. And he'd promised to look after her, so. Had to be the best at everything."
He's never really felt the reality of that situation as keenly as he does now.
Eggsy just covers Ricki's forearm with his hand for a moment for a reciprocal squeeze, then lets him go. Really, he doesn't think anything would clear the deck faster than hey, hands up who on the Barge had a physically and emotionally healthy childhood? If they weren't all fuckups of various stripes, they wouldn't be here.
He accepts his teacup when offered and changes the subject.
"'Ey, there anything you want for Christmas? I mean, I - made you something," he says, a bit awkwardly, "but apparently the Admiral's gonna force me to write a list, so."
He thinks about making the 'explosives' joke, but it's a little tired. So he thinks that over, and decides on;
"Cookbooks would be nice. Vietnamese if he can get his hands on one. Or maybe training manuals for teachers. What about you? Need a new pair of socks?"
"I dunno. We already had a word, since he flipped his shit over -- when Max showed up on my communicator. He's actually been alright? But I dunno how long that's gonna last."
"He just - demanded to know what the hell was going on, took issue with the
idea I was dating-slash-fucking anybody he keeps getting into fights with
over nothing in particular."
And he lifts an eyebrow meaningfully, because seriously, if that's Mickey's
criteria for 'people his friends aren't allowed to have relationships with'
then his friends don't have many options beyond celibacy.
"The other day, that new fellow, Harry Starks, gave me a curious look and asked if I was used to being so out and about it. I went off on him, told him if he had a problem with it, we could discuss it at length, and that I wouldn't go down as easy as Dean Winchester had."
He says, and heaves a sigh.
"So, he started laughing at me, and told me he was one too."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He goes to mess about with the tea things.
"How, uh, how're you doing after the flood?"
He has to this moment made a point of not asking, but it feels like there's a safe space of time between now and then.
no subject
He says, going to see about that tea.
"Didn't rattle me. What about you?"
no subject
"Not a bad one. If it'd got me like, six years later? I'd probably be death tolling for being an utter shit. But that - yeah, that was the age all my mum's friends were pinching my cheeks like," he summons up the affectation of the average middle-aged woman around his estate, "oh, you're such a bright lad, you got so much potential."
no subject
By the way, but;
"You were a sweetie."
no subject
But then he softens.
"You were - I don't know. I just wanted to look after you," he admits, quietly. He'd not been unaffected long enough that he'd had much of a chance to.
no subject
He admits, glancing up.
"I had been- as old as I had ever been when it happened, obviously, so I always felt as though I were perfectly grown up when it all began. I was a young man of the community. I was working. I'd- you know."
A vague gesture.
"But. Having been in his head, straight to this one- that boy was a boy."
no subject
He smiles bleakly and shakes his head.
"I know the boat I was in - nothing like yours. Not at all. I - he - he didn't really get that there was anything happening outside what he saw, you know? Little kids, it's just like - magical thinking, is that what they call it? He thought if his mum cried or drank or weren't happy, it was his fault. And he'd promised to look after her, so. Had to be the best at everything."
He's never really felt the reality of that situation as keenly as he does now.
no subject
Says Ricki, stepping forwards to sling an arm around him for a quick, impromptu squeeze, before going on to handle that tea, no eyecontact.
no subject
He accepts his teacup when offered and changes the subject.
"'Ey, there anything you want for Christmas? I mean, I - made you something," he says, a bit awkwardly, "but apparently the Admiral's gonna force me to write a list, so."
no subject
"Cookbooks would be nice. Vietnamese if he can get his hands on one. Or maybe training manuals for teachers. What about you? Need a new pair of socks?"
no subject
"Shit, Ricki, I don't know." He sips his tea and shrugs. "I'm easily pleased, me. Bright colours. Shiny things, loud noises."
no subject
He says, just beaming.
no subject
no subject
He promises, tenderly.
"A stupid friend can wither something this small before it even begins. But, I think you'll like my Christmas present."
no subject
He sips his tea,
"....I mean stupid like, 'I'm worried he'll say something fucked up and Max'll take it bad or I'll hit him'."
no subject
He says, as he pours the tea.
no subject
no subject
Backing him up, as he sinks down into a chair.
no subject
"Not much."
Eggsy sits down next to him.
"He just - demanded to know what the hell was going on, took issue with the idea I was dating-slash-fucking anybody he keeps getting into fights with over nothing in particular."
And he lifts an eyebrow meaningfully, because seriously, if that's Mickey's criteria for 'people his friends aren't allowed to have relationships with' then his friends don't have many options beyond celibacy.
no subject
Is Ricki's philosophical verdict.
"I hope he smartens up, because it'd be a sad thing to lose you over."
no subject
He wants it to be.
"Anyone ever give you and Omar any shit over...?"
no subject
He says, and heaves a sigh.
"So, he started laughing at me, and told me he was one too."
no subject
"Yeeeah, there's a reason me an' him don't talk."
no subject
He says, eyebrows up.
"Those two are thick as thieves."
no subject
He is so very much not in favour of flirting from randoms from the Sixties, thank you.
(no subject)