What other people called 'annoying,' Joey called endlessly entertaining. That didn't mean he one-hundred-percent let Wade get away with everything; when he walked around attempting an Italian accent Joey made an effort to roll his eyes as much as he could and [i]not laugh[/i] (he laughed a lot) and [i]not play along[/i] (he tended to very interestedly respond with some other random Italian dish, as if they were having a real conversation). They had to get ready eventually, though, and Joey waited expectantly for Wade to go first since he himself only took around twenty seconds to be public-ready, even for dates. One time he forgot how to tie his tie and hid from Wade's view for a while, but that was the only time he'd surpassed ten minutes, and he ended up just wearing a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows anyway. Joey was also smart enough not to try and shower when Wade was going to, 'cause the bathroom turned into an American Idol audition. Canadian Idol? Whatever the case, Wade took his entire damn life.

While he was doing God knows what in the water, Joey busied himself with getting into  a white button-up, black blazer, and black jeans, lest Wade tease him for being too formal. He stopped in the living room a moment and questioned his reflection, wondering if perhaps he was getting too old, or if his hair was getting too long, whether his eyes were brown or green. Yes, yes, and probably hazel. Joey was for sure not satisfied with these answers and skewed his face to test the wrinkles gradually deepening before deciding it was best to just turn away, his fingers automatically pushing through his hair. He swore he could hear Wade exiting the shower at the same time and stopped to listen, holding his breath, before sighing uncontrollably. [b]"Wade, are you ready?"[/b] The ensuing noises sounded like a kid that was woken up for school an hour ago and was now pretending like they'd been up the whole time. Joey struggled not to outright laugh at him, folding his arms in an effort to look stern and leaning to one side. 

Wade came out in just his towel and seemed to stare for a few moments. Torn between impatience and adoration for just how ridiculous he was, Joey fixed his mouth in a line, struggling not to smile too dumbly at him. [i]How are you ready? It’s only...[/i] Joey waited. [i]Oh. Oh well. Hi.[/i] He opened his mouth, preparing to say something smart, but Wade stopped him with a hand coming to rest gently over the back of his neck, lips finding his. Joey swayed a little, embarrassingly enough. [i]You look great,[/i] Bruno. Joey lost the rest of his composure. [b]"You too. You know, you could conceivably wear that towel to the restaurant."[/b] [i]Thought about what you’re having? I already know. Italian.[/i] Joey almost argued that they were going to the same place, of course he was getting Italian, too, then looked extremely annoyed. [b]"Gonna need a big bottle of wine to deal with you, you know."[/b] But he was still stepping closer to Wade like the tiny distance was killing him. 

[i]You think we could just skip dinner and stay home?[/i] [b]"Ye - oh,"[/b] he mumbled, quickly trying to forget his near agreement when Wade was obviously joking. He met him in another kiss anyway, his fingers lacing easily through Wade's and his lips curling up without giving him a choice. He trusted Wade's lead to the bedroom, a smile apparently permanently plastered on his face. [i]I don’t know what to wear. Would they mind if I just wore a towel? Is that normal in Italian culture?[/i] [b]"Of course. What do you think I wore to my sister's wedding?"[/b] [i]I’m fully immersed in it, by the way. [/i]Penne. Ravioli. Cannelloni. Tortellini. [i]My accent is better than yours.[/i] Joey almost told him that that was probably true, considering he was barely halfway fluent in the language and still spoke it like an American anyway, but then he'd ruin his image. Instead he just pretended to be very incredulous. [i]No, but I’m serious. What do I wear. I’m helpless, Joey. Helpless![/i] 

Joey looked affronted. [b]"I [i]just[/i] stopped being straight. I can't help you with fashion."[/b] He was headed to the closet anyway, pushing through hangers and studying all of Wade's wardrobe. After a few moments he stopped, pulling out a whole suit on one hanger, apparently missing a jacket. [b]"A [i]vest,[/i] oh my God, wear that. That's a Professor Walcott look."[/b] He held it up to Wade's chest, evidently trying to realize his vision.