Chapter Text
The art opening wasn’t too bad. At least that’s what Ripley kept telling himself as he went up to the open bar for his 3rd drink of the night. A long couple of shifts in the ER and he was ready for a little R&R. He wasn’t really drunk. Testosterone had a great way of increasing your alcohol tolerance as Ripley had learned over the past couple years. He did sometimes lament not being a cheap date any longer. He ordered another Jack and ginger and waited patiently leaning on the bar. He smiled at the bartender. She wasn’t too rough on the eyes. Ripley liked very femme ladies, especially ones with dark hair. She gave him his drink as another guy stepped up to the bar beside him to order a drink.
“Hey! Just another tonic with lime, please,” he said jovially to the bartender.
Ripley glanced out of the corner of his eye at the guy to his right with the shock of bright red hair. He looked nice, like a happy guy. As Ripley put down his large tip on the bar for the bartender, he noticed the guy do the same. Ripley was impressed. It was rare to see young people be so generous at an event like this. He finally actually looked to his right at the slightly scruffy young man in the half-decent shirt and gave him a small smile of acknowledgement. He grinned back as the bartender returned with his tonic water.
“That’s really all you’re drinkin’ tonight, huh?” she asked.
“Yeah,” the guy replied adjusting his glasses, “Gotta keep my wits about me.”
He thanked her again kindly before starting to turn away. He paused. “Nice glasses, man,” he said to Ripley, tapping his own to be clear.
“Hey, thanks,” Ripley replied with a chuckle, then sipped his drink.
“I’m Mark,” the guy said putting out his free hand.
Ripley shook his hand. Mark had a decent grip. He was obviously treating Ripley just like one of the guys. Ripley silently loved him for that. Passing always felt glorious.
“Mark, nice to meet you. I’m Ripley,” he replied easily.
“Ripley? For real?” Mark asked, eyes widening happily behind his glasses.
“Yup. For real,” replied Ripley with a tiny smirk.
He was used to that question. He could tell from the look on Mark’s scruffy face that he got the reference and was pretty jazzed about it.
“Tell me you’re named after the character,” Mark chuckled.
Ripley merely nodded and enjoyed Mark’s appreciative smile.
“Do you know the artist?” Mark asked. He was obviously not a native New Yorker, but he made up for it with his charming smile.
Ripley nodded, “Yeah, it’s a friend of a friend.”
Mark’s physicality changed some at that point and he settled back against the bar. He seemed to feel really comfortable talking to Ripley in the crowded bar area.
“I was invited by a friend who then couldn’t make it,” Mark lamented, “I’m just in New York on a business trip this week.”
Ripley went ahead and took the bait. “Oh yeah?” he turned a little more toward Mark on his barstool, “Where are you from?”
“I live in LA now, but I’m originally from Cincinnati,” Mark replied with a genuine smile.
Ripley could tell he liked talking about himself. If it was anxiety or some slight narcissism, Ripley couldn’t tell. Either way, he seemed nice for the most part. They spent the next hour chatting amiably. Ripley went through another Jack & ginger and Mark had just finished his third or fourth tonic water.
“I’ve gotta go find the bathroom,” Mark said, glancing around the crowded space for a sign, “You sticking around for a bit?”
Ripley could tell by the look on his face that he was hoping Ripley would be here for a while and willing to keep hanging out. It was pretty endearing actually. It was the adult equivalent of a kid on the playground asking you directly if you could be their new best friend.
Ripley nodded, “I’ll be here.”
Ripley was pretty average looking. He was short, only standing about 5’5. He had been lucky enough to grow a whole extra inch when he started testosterone 3 years ago. He had somewhat grown out reddish blond hair with a bit of curl to it. His facial hair, which was a decent scruff at this point after a new days of consecutive work shifts, was almost completely ginger.
Ripley was standing by the bar when Mark returned. Ripley realized that Mark wasn’t particularly tall either and this made him grin a little. It always made him happy to meet shorter cisgender guys. At least… he assumed Mark was cisgender from his voice. They meandered into the gallery a little further checking out some of the paintings as they went. They finally settled in a couple chairs that were somewhat out of the way.
The topic of conversation eventually turned to Ripley.
“Yeah, it’s a cool job, being a nurse practitioner. I’ve been in the ER for the past few years. It keeps you on your toes,” Ripley commented.
“Do you work, like, 12 hour shifts?” Mark asked.
“Mhmm. That’s really the only way to do the ER stuff. Twelves and sometimes more depending. Like on holidays? I’ve done a 24 hour shift before.”
Ripley learned over the course of their chatter that Mark was a professional YouTuber and makes his living by playing video games and doing comedy. His demeanor definitely made sense once Ripley got this new information. He was always “on”.
The night was coming to a close and Ripley was looking at his phone after a text from a friend. He reflexively smiled.
“Some good news?” Mark inquired.
Ripley looked up. “Oh, no, I mean… Just a nice text,” he replied casually as he caught a glimpse of time on his phone screen. “Oh man, I guess I should be heading home. I’ve got a bit of a ride back to Brooklyn.”
He stood keeping his demeanor friendly. Ripley found Mark to be a nice guy. Maybe he’d be a friend, but if not at least he had been pleasant company for an evening that Ripley had been convinced was a lost cause.
Mark smiled amiably, “I suppose I should be heading back to my hotel too.”
Mark held out his hand again with a grin and Ripley glad shook it with a firm but comfortable handshake.
“Besides, if I want to get to the gym in the morning, I’ve gotta get at least a little sleep,” Ripley added as he carded his free hand through his curls.
Mark brightened once more. “Gym, huh? I have a really fabulous gym in the hotel they put me up in. I always do better with a work out buddy. You wouldn’t have any interest in coming back out this way to work out with me, would ya’?”
A slight moment of hesitation gave Ripley a second to think. He liked Mark just fine, for as much as he knew him. He had presumed him to be straight, but now had a glimmer of doubt. Either way, it didn’t really matter but the thought of a decent gym in a really nice hotel was tempting. Mark was obviously the kind of guy who most enjoyed sharing his spoils and blessings, and now it happened to be Ripley he was offering to share with.
“Actually, I’ve got a couple errands to run in midtown anyway. So… sure! That sounds cool,” Ripley chuckled, finding himself giving the charming half-smile he had given prior to the bartender.
“Awesome!” Mark crowed, his enthusiasm bubbling over.