Hidden 10 days ago Post by Neve


Member Seen 6 days ago

These dates weren’t really a weekly thing, but they were sort of loosely regular in some kind of way- when Wade suddenly felt like going out for something to eat instead of letting Joey pretend he was on masterchef, or Joey had recovered from the effort required to be social enough to leave the apartment once every now and then, they organised something, usually at the same few places. Tonight, Wade had insisted on Italian, and had wandered rather extravagantly around, speaking in a very awful accent and saying the names of different pasta shapes in the hope of sounding at least some what Italian. Joey seemed amused, but not very impressed. Their reservation was eight thirty, but by half six, wade had only just stepped into the shower, and he took twenty minutes minimum. Half an hour later, he stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist and almost slipping on his way out towards the mirror above the sink. Looking around suspiciously to make sure Joey hadn’t, like, sensed his embarrassment, Wade focused on his reflection and wondered for a moment whether or not he should shave. Hovering, he considered asking Joey, but then decided all of this was too much effort and walked back into the bedroom to fully collapse onto the bed, closing his eyes and folding his arms so he could rest his forehead.

What seemed like seconds past- but suddenly, Wade heard Joey’s voice, and wearily raised his head just enough to listen. For a moment, incredulous silence, then a long-suffering sigh loud enough to hear even from the next room, with an undertone if poorly concealed affection. Wade, are you ready? Oh, shit. Reservations. Pushing himself up with his forearms, he moved to sit up, dragging his hands down his face and then standing up. Maybe it was time to get a move on. He stretched briefly and then stepped through the doorway to the hall, walking down and into the kitchen. Joey was stood there, arms folded, fully dressed- wearing a really nice shirt and looking good enough that Wade forgot what he was going to say for a second and just stared rather dumbly, looking like a lost puppy. Joey raised his eyebrows and Wade finally offered him a grin. “How are you ready? It’s only-” A pause. His eyes were drawn to the clock on the wall. “Oh. Oh well. Hi.”

Before Joey could say anything else, Wade, still damp and clad in a towel, leaned in carefully to kiss him, moving a hand to rest at the back of his neck, resisting the urge to pull him close and risk protest. “You look great, Bruno,” He said, the corner of his mouth tilting when he pulled away, hand dropping from the nape of his neck and to his side. “Thought about what you’re having? I already know. Italian.” Quite shamelessly smirking at him, Wade then turned around, reaching to rub at his neck thoughtfully. “You think we could just skip dinner and stay home?” Without even waiting for an answer, he turned back around and shrugged as if to say ‘it was worth a try’. Then, he leaned in to kiss Joey again, before grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him back towards the bedroom with purpose.

Letting go only after he had shut the door, Wade crossed his arms and turned around. “I don’t know what to wear. Would they mind if I just wore a towel? Is that normal in Italian culture? I’m fully immersed in it, by the way. Penne. Ravioli. Cannelloni. Tortellini. My accent is better than yours. Of course, this playful taunting had a motive- Wade actually really like Joey’s Italian accent (he was, as a Canadian, rather oblivious to the fact that it was only really semi-accurate), and was always looking for a way to coax it out of him at most times. That, and he’d literally chosen the restaurant so he could make several inappropriate jokes and relish the look on Joey’s face (mortification) when Wade came out with them at the table of a relatively nice place. But those were the things he had to get used to- Wade’s unabashed way of showing affection, his apparent lack of shame, and his naturally confident attitude all made for somebody that a extremely socially awkward person would have something of a nightmare trying to keep in line. “No, but I’m serious. What do I wear. I’m helpless, Joey. Helpless!”
Hidden 7 days ago Post by jakob
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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 not laugh (he laughed a lot) and not play along (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. "Wade, are you ready?" 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. How are you ready? It’s only... Joey waited. Oh. Oh well. Hi. 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. You look great, Bruno. Joey lost the rest of his composure. "You too. You know, you could conceivably wear that towel to the restaurant." Thought about what you’re having? I already know. Italian. Joey almost argued that they were going to the same place, of course he was getting Italian, too, then looked extremely annoyed. "Gonna need a big bottle of wine to deal with you, you know." But he was still stepping closer to Wade like the tiny distance was killing him.

You think we could just skip dinner and stay home? "Ye - oh," 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 don’t know what to wear. Would they mind if I just wore a towel? Is that normal in Italian culture? "Of course. What do you think I wore to my sister's wedding?" I’m fully immersed in it, by the way. Penne. Ravioli. Cannelloni. Tortellini. My accent is better than yours. 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. No, but I’m serious. What do I wear. I’m helpless, Joey. Helpless!

Joey looked affronted. "I just stopped being straight. I can't help you with fashion." 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. "A vest, oh my God, wear that. That's a Professor Walcott look." He held it up to Wade's chest, evidently trying to realize his vision.
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