[i]I thought her standards were much higher.[/i] Wade was obviously about to argue. In fact, he had formulated an entire argument in a second flat, covering things Joey would be mad at him for like ‘Isabela looked like shit compared to you’, and things Joey would be exasperated by, like ‘What do you mean, I was even fucking sexier back then’. Which wasn’t even strictly true. If anything, Wade at the age he was looked the best he ever had. Maybe. He’s ask Joey to confirm or deny that for him, but he was biased. Besides, he thought the same about Joey, of course, but then he saw Joseph as literally the most handsome man alive despite never admitting it unless through some kind of sarcastic medium. For a moment, regardless, he entertained the idea of ending up with Joey’s sister instead. It wasn’t as funny as he thought it would be- just very unsettling when he imagined Joey as his brother in law.

 [i]You really missed an opportunity there.[/i] [b]“Don’t sound too disappointed for her. If I hadn’t have turned her down, she’d be Mrs Isabela Walcott, and [i]you[/i] would probably currently be having very [i]unfulfilling [/i]sex with whatever girlfriend you’d have. You’re welcome for making sure that isn’t the case!” [/b]Wade was grinning. He was anticipating some kind of rebuttal of his confidence there.
Of course, such talk was unappreciated by Joey- who still behaved like a professor  around students and scolded Wade when he strayed too far out of PG territory, ignoring the fact that they were two grown men in a committed relationship. He was growing out of this habit, though, steadily, cursing more and unwinding himself gradually, but hadn’t quite unlearned censorship from his teaching days. He didn’t seem to think it was down to that, though; [i]I’m a Capricorn.[/i] [b]”And I’m a Libra. Or am I a Scorpio? Which makes more sense, anyway? Scorpio? I mean- Be honest, Joseph, am I a whore?”[/b] He stood before him, eyes wide, arms folded as if waiting for judgement.

[i]No, fuck off, that’s[/i] my [i]thing.[/i] Wade raised his eyebrows and said in a matter-of-fact, jovial tone: [b]”Well, Joey, I’m glad you have the bravery to admit that you have a problem.”[/b] A pause. [b]”It’s not even alcohol. It’s thinking that being Italian is a personality trait.”[/b] He didn’t even laugh, didn’t have to; they were just at this point now. And Wade new that he’d find it funny. [i]Get your own.[/i] [b]”I have a thing! It’s hating Brandon, or whatever his name is.”[/b] Upon intentionally butchering Joey’s surrogate son’s name, his voice increased in pitch, as it often did when he was messing around- which was literally fucking always. It was funny, because Joey could take literally everything on the chin, even actively insulted Wade, giving as good as he got, but when Wade made digs at Brendon, he sulked, because apparently the sun shone out of that kid’s ass. 

Probably some kind of bonding-over-a-serious-shared-problem thing, Wade mused- but all of this, even in his head, was in jest. He loved Brendon- just because Joey did, and he’d do anything for that man. Wade screwed up his face. Ew. He tried to steer himself away from that soppiness but then he was turning Joey towards the mirror, manoeuvring him with relative ease because he was taller and a little stronger, and wrapping his arms around his waist, holding on tight enough to be irritating and crowding into his space by kissing his neck, barely, because he was grinning throughout. Then he let go, because they were already running late. As much as Wade would love to just spend the evening rummaging through their wardrobes and dressing up in whatever ridiculous shit they could find. 

[i] All right, well, we need to actually get to the date first.[/i] Wade stepped back, arms folded across his chest, staring down Joey like this was some homoerotic western. He grinned at his own joke. Yet again. [b]”I’m not the one stopping us from heading out, Bruno. I’m dressed. I’m ready. Look at me, I’m a god. Carved from marble-“[/b] He spread his arms out by his sides, presenting himself proudly to his boyfriend, who- wasn’t even looking where he was indicating. Instead, he was looking somewhere else. He cleared his throat at the same time as saying, [b]”Pervert.”[/b] After a moment of silence, Joey reverted to damage control. [i]No, I insist. Keep yourself covered, bud.[/i] [b]”Oh, you [i]insist[/i], do you? Fine. I’ll remained covered for the rest of our relationship.”[/b]

Then Joey was laughing at Wade’s dick joke.  [i]I mean... You should be. I’m packing.[/i] Wade kept a straight face successfully, all serious and concerned, eyes wide. [b]”Or maybe I just have a big mouth.”[/b] He’d definitely get some kind of furious protest there, prude that his beloved Joseph was- who immediately brought up being a Capricorn again, which Wade rolled his eyes at, watching Joey with a smile regardless as he buttoned the shirt he’d made Wade wear. He then stood back and Wade ran a hand through his own hair, turning towards the mirror and raising his eyebrows. [b]”Well, fuck. How does it feel to be with the most attractive Canadian- [i]man[/i]- alive?”[/b] [i]A'ight, usually I don't ask this, but will you put some fucking pants on?[/i] Oh, Joseph, at least you’re honest, Wade thought, but mercifully didn’t respond, just smirked at him as he kept rambling on about Wade wearing pants. In any case, he smoothed down the shirt Joey had given him and then reached into the wardrobe and pulled out the first pair of ironed trousers he could find, examining them for a second before shrugging and carrying them over to the bed, sitting down and then looking up at Joey as he finally lost his towel toga and actually put on some underwear. [b]”Don’t look at me, I’m shy.”[/b]