I haven't the slightest clue what's going on here but I'm a fan of the general unhinged energy

“I broke your nose in a mosh pit”

Flesh Curtains Rick X Reader (1880 words)

It was in between sets so, in the little space you had around you, you were on your phone, scrolling through twitter to see if any of your mutuals were here as well. You had always sort of preferred going to shows alone, not having to worry about losing your friends in the crowd and being able to make as much of a fool of yourself singing and dancing to the music as you wanted.

“Excuse me, s-s-sorry, sorry ex-excuse me my friend’s just uhhh little bit further up,” you heard a man speak over the music the venue was playing as everyone waited, leaving a trail of sighs and light complaints behind him. He made his way up next to you and you moved to get out of his way, which was a few inches tops given everyone’s proximity to one another, but the people in front of you weren’t budging. Understandably so, as you were pretty close to the barrier and probably wouldn’t give up the space in front of you for someone as tall as he was either. He quit trying after a few more “ex-excuse me”s and settled into the space beside you.

You glanced up and gave him a hey, just to be polite. “Hi. Rick Sanchez,” he greeted you with a nod. You recognized him as the bassist of one of the openers, Flesh Curtains. The name had made you laugh when they were on stage. He towered above you, long blue hair slicked back with a black choker around his neck and wearing the lowest cut tank top and tightest jeans you had seen tonight. He smelled like vodka, not that you minded, half the people here did. Hell, you probably did, too.

“Y/N. Your set was really good! Got everyone moving around,” you looked back up. There was a certain darkness to his eyes that caught you off guard, but you shook it off. He mumbled a thank you and offered a smile. He was probably tired or drunk, or both, but you appreciated that he wanted to be in the crowd for the next set anyway.

The lights darkened and the crowd surged forward, any free space you had gone, forcing the two of you shoulder to shoulder. You let out a yelp and a giggle as the screams of everyone around you filled the air. Upon realizing you were elbowing Rick in the stomach, you apologized and he rested his arm on your shoulder, giving the both of you a little more wiggle room. If this had been anywhere else you probably would’ve told him off for it, but you were never a stickler for personal space at shows, the random contact with strangers making you feel all the more present and you appreciated the momentary, random bonding experience of it.

It was the last song, and Rick had proven himself to be a good concert neighbor, his height helping to shield you from crowd surfers and he always gave you room to get in and out pits as they opened, but surprisingly never participating.

You lost him a few songs ago, but as a pit opened in the back and two walls started forming, you spotted him a few people down and across from you. You caught his eye and gave him a smile just as the music dropped and you ran with everyone else. After bouncing around the mosh pit for a while you saw Rick again. Feeling playful and bold enough, you went up to shove into him from behind.

Bad choice. He swung his arm back as soon as you got close, elbow crashing directly into your nose. “FUCK!” Blood was pouring down your face and you stood still in shock for a few seconds. As soon as he noticed the blood on his arm, Rick turned around, “F-FUCK!”

He ushered you into his small ship parked behind the venue, hurrying to get you to urgent care, despite your protests that you could handle yourself. “I-I’m scared you’re gonna pass out or something j-jesus that’s a lot of blood.”

“I didn’t peg you for the squeamish type,” you poked fun despite getting a little light headed. He had a point.

“I see this much blood before breakfast, s-sweetie,” you chose not to read too far into that, silently hoping to yourself you hadn’t gotten into a car with some sort of serial killer. You also chose not to read too far into the “sweetie”, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

The waiting room of the urgent care was quiet as the clock ticked towards midnight. They had given you some ice and a clean towel for the blood, and you stared up at the muted tv above you as you tried to keep your head tilted back.

“I c-cannot stand these home improvement shows,” Rick piped up from the chair next to you. Despite telling him you were alright about 100 times, he insisted on staying to take you back to the venue after so you could get your car. You didn’t want to be a bother, but it sure beat getting in an Uber alone with some stranger. Well, Rick was still a stranger, but you were warming up to each other a little.

“The Property Brothers aren’t doing it for you, huh?” You figured you’d get some conversation going instead of just sitting in silence.

“T-there’s just so m-much more to life than cheap backsplashes,” he rolled his eyes, “there’s a whole universe of new dimensions a-and other planets, and t-these people care about color schemes. You should see interdimensional cable.”

“You travel a lot then? For the band or for fun?”

“B-bit of both, I guess. Don’t really have anyone to travel with outside the band, th-the trips get long,” He fidgeted with the armrest of his chair as he spoke, staring at it as if it was the most intriguing armrest he had ever seen. His tone was almost nervous, like he was thinking about saying more but hesitant to share it. You understood, no need to pour out any extra emotions to someone you had just met. It made you wonder if you’d see him again after this, if he was just doing you a favor because he felt bad for breaking your nose or if he had some other goal here. You stared at the armrest with him, he had long, slim fingers and the slightest remnants of black polish on his nails. It made you smile to yourself a little, suddenly realising how out of place he looked in this clean, pastel room, HGTv playing above his head and fake flowers on the table to his right.

You rested your elbow on the back of your armrest just under where his was reaching over, trying to give your arm a little break from holding the ice to your nose. You were starting to get tired, this wait seeming like an eternity despite being the only people there. You were worried he’d be missing bus call or something, but he didn’t seem to be making any efforts to check the time.

“Y/L/N,” a nurse called from the door, and your eyes were open before you could even process that you had fallen asleep. You picked your head up and looked around for a second, feeling yourself fill with embarrassment as you realised you had fallen asleep on Rick’s shoulder. You whispered a quick apology to him and stood, following the nurse through the door as you went over what had happened.

Rick stood up as you came back out of the exit door, and if you weren’t mistaken there was almost some concern in his eyes. “So the good news is you didn’t break my nose. Bad news is it’ll probably hurt for a while but you’re officially off the hook,” you giggled at him as he looked relieved and you walked back to his ship.

“So me being off the hook is the b-bad news then?” he smirked, turning to look down at you and your swollen nose.

“You’re not such bad company, Sanchez.”

“You’re not bad company yourself, Y/N,” he eyed you up and down for a second, pausing as if he wanted to say more again. You both climbed into your seats and took off back towards the venue. “You know, I-I’d say I actually improved your face,” he teased after a few minutes of silence. It earned him a smack to the arm.

“That so? You wanna get your face improved, too?

“I’d love to see you try, s-sweetheart,” he was kidding, but you took a little offense.

“I can hold my own. I took an elbow to the nose without a single tear,” you looked over at him and smiled a little, not sure if you were trying to impress him or make him feel a little guilty again.

“T-that you did. You might be a little tougher than you look,” he reached over to give you a little pat of approval on the knee, but you didn’t complain when his hand stayed there, moving up a little until it was resting on your thigh. You started to admire the black band around his middle finger until he cleared his throat and took his hand back, “I uh, I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost more to himself than to you as he put his hand back on the wheel, and you silenced the whimper you had almost let out at the loss of contact. You honestly weren’t sure why you wanted it to begin with, or why he had chosen to apologize. Aren’t rockstars accustomed to picking up girls from the crowd? It made you a little self conscious until you realised he probably just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.

“You guys come to town often?” You offered, hoping to dissolve the sudden uneasiness that was radiating off of him. He looked confused about the question until he realised you were asking if you’d see him again and his eyes lit back up a little.

“Never been here, might n-never come back,” he shrugged as you pulled into the parking lot. Your heart dropped a little, so sure you had been on the same wavelength all night.

He started a dig around through his glove box until he pulled out a pen, putting out his other hand towards you. You were puzzled for a minute, before putting your hand in his, your hand looked tiny in comparison and it almost made you laugh. He started to write on your hand and it wasn’t until he let go that you realised it was a phone number and you smiled to yourself.

“Let me know if you ever feel l-like going somewhere. I can take you to places a lot more interesting than sh-shitty concert venues,” he still seemed nervous, and as his bandmates piled out of the Flesh Curtains tour bus and started to yell obscene things at Rick after noticing you in the passenger’s seat, you thanked him again for all the help and began the walk back to your own car, reeling over how you just got invited to travel the galaxy with Rick Sanchez.

“I broke your nose in a mosh pit”

Bad Habits