HELLO BITCH CAN I REQUEST SMTH WHOLESOME WITH RICK LIKE GOING ON A WALK THROUGH A QUIETER PART OF HOLLYWOOD WITH HIM AND ITS GOLDEN HOURS EVEN THOUGH ITS LATE AND WE KISS PLEASE I LOVE YOU THANK U LSKDJLSAASDJKJ
Hollywood Walk - Rick X Reader
A/N: HERE YOU GO, BITCH. Have some soft, early '60s Rick!
TW: softness!!
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It was a cool, dare you say cold, evening in California as you and Rick all but floated down the sidewalk; neon signs of bars, movie theatres, and various liqour and corner shops bathed you both in gentle light as you went along.
Rick Dalton had proved to be as much of a good guy offscreen as he did onscreen. Though, instead of being this smug, self-assured, assertive bounty hunter he protrayed, he was now a sweet, confident man who stuttered through his sentences. He seemed apprehensive - no, nervous.
[[MORE]]
Yes, it was definitely nervousness as opposed to apprehension.
Yet, despite your co-star coming off as reasonably strange at first, he had slowly blossomed into a bundle of humour and (still stuttered) conversation. He was curious about who you had worked with in the past, what you thought of this season and, perhaps most importantly of all, if you wanted to go anywhere specific as you strolled down the Hollywood streets.
You merely shrugged and shook your head. Walking, thus far, had proved to be eventful and comfortable. There was no need to enter a restaurant or a bar, or head to his or yours. He smiled that charming smile, chuckled, and off you continued to walk.
He was a deceptively funny guy, seemingly able to make you laugh over the smallest things...whether he meant to or not. His blue eyes shone with curious amazement as you explained meeting whatever director or actor he was fond of.
Then, the moment you hugged yourself as a breeze whistled by, that curious look shifted to mild concern.
"A-Are you cold?" He asked, though was beginning to shrug his leather jacket off anyway.
"I'm--" You cut yourself off, feeling a blush paint your cheeks at the realisation of the situation, "--yeah, I am. Oh, you don't need to-"
"-it's fine, (Y/N)," He shrugged off his jacket, holding it open so that you could slide your arms into it.
He wouldn't say anything and risk ruining the night, but he'd be damned if he didn't feel his stomach lightly flip as he helped you into the warm garment. He smoothed down the shoulders, which may or may not have been because he wanted to touch you, and then gave a soft pat upon them before retracting.
Your smile spoke volumes, and he found no reason to ask if that was better. It most certainly was, despite it's big size on you. But, to top it all off? It smelled of him.
Whiskey, cigarettes, and whatever cologne he used in the mornings - - somehow, it was familiar. So familiar, in fact, that it had your mind wandering as to why, placing you into a trance.
By the time you zoned back into the conversation, Rick was talking about Cliff. His admiration and love for his friend shoved you into another trance, but this time it was all on him. Not about 'why' or 'how', but about 'Rick' and 'Cliff' and whatever they had been through.
He stopped suddenly, gazing your way expectantly. A moment of silence accompanied his brow arch.
"Oh, Christ, was I staring?" You questioned with hesitant words.
"Yeah. Ye-Yeah-Yeah, you were."
Another moment of silence, and then you both erupted into laughter. It was a sweet thing, a united thing, a thing that had you leaning into him for support and had him supporting you in return.
He didn't say much about it, instead holding you as he began to walk again. Except, this time, he didn't let go. His arm remained around your shoulders, holding you close as he continued talking.
You were an actor, so you channeled that experience into this moment...into not acting as if this was a big deal. It most definitely was.
Eventually, this walk had to come to an end. You knew it did, so did Rick, and yet it still hurt when he stopped at the car park of the studio of which you began. You had come full circle. It was poetic, really.
"Thank you, Rick," You said softly.
"For what?" His brows creased in confusion.
"For the walk," You went to shrug his jacket off, but he shook his head and grabbed your arm to stop you.
"K-Ke-Keep it. Give it back to me tomorrow," His grip was soft upon your bicep, words floating over your head on the breeze.
His eyes met yours for what felt like the millionth time that night, except this was different. He felt no pressure to say anything, nor did you expect him to speak. A perfect silence shared spoke a thousand words, and, in that moment, it rung true.
It took you a moment to register that he was leaning in, and even more so that his lips were on yours. Your eyes widened, body stiffened, and clearly this was not what he expected.
He recoiled, a flash of horrified embarrassment adorning his features, "I-I-I-I'm so sorry! I th-thou-thought that-"
"-it was me! Sorry! I liked it! You just shocked me!"
"...you liked it?"
You nodded, lips pursing as your face once again flushed. You ground your heel into the concrete, fidgeting helping to ease your pounding heart.
"I'll, uh, see you tomorrow, Rick?"
"Yeah. Bright and early," He pointed your way as you took a step towards your car.
"Eight thirty," You returned, and he flashed a toothy grin, nodding.
He watched as you unlocked your car and climbed inside, ignited the engine, and then began to pull out of the car park.
You gave one last wave and tentative smile, and he returned the favour. He watched your car drive down the road, waiting until you were out of sight to do anything.
"She liked it."
