theirlithium | (no subject)

[ Alex is going to punch Wesley.

He's going to grab him by his stupid jacket (that smells like gunsmoke and old leather and Wesley), beat him over the head with the stupid bucket of popcorn he insisted on buying, and punch him right in that stupid smug as fuck smirk he wore with each door he beat him to, holding it wide open with his sarcastically polite hand wave for him to go ahead like Alex is some kind of goddamn princess. He's going to punch him so hard he forgets his name.

Just. As soon as the movie is over.

Because punching people in the middle of... whatever the fuck this is (chick flick? explosions? drama? he hasn't been paying attention)... would just be rude, right? They already got shush'd once bickering over who should walk down the aisle of chairs first (Alex had lost), and while getting kicked out of the theater would end Wesley's tormenting him and bring him closer to getting that satisfying punch in... Alex might be getting kind of comfy. The armrest between them had got shoved up and out of the way some time earlier while fighting over popcorn, so Alex's shoulder is brushing against Wesley's (and that nice smelling jacket), and as he slumps further into the chair, his thigh bumps against his as well. It's... not so bad. Maybe. If Wesley stopped making him want to murder him for two seconds. Giving a loud slurp at the cola Wesley had also insisted on paying for like the prick he is, he gives Wesley a jab in the side with his elbows and a sidelong glance, grumbling through the straw between his lips. ]

What a shitty date. You didn't even get candy.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He glances over-- obviously not that invested in the movie, or at least less so than he was in Alex, and smiles that smug little smile of his. ] If I got you candy, then I couldn't get you dessert-- and what kind of date doesn't have dessert? [ He grins, turning his attention back to the screen those he seems unfazed by Alex's annoyance entirely. One arm lifting up he slings it over his shoulder with no pretense-- he's not ashamed of himself, sees no reason to be, and if anyone says anything he'll rearrange their face for a nominal fee.

Besides it was totally a date kind of thing to do, and Alex had bitched about a date so he was getting a date, if not the kind he had intended for it to be. Whatever. Wesley was being the perfect fucking gentleman, even if it annoyed the shit out of Alex. ]

Usually you get dinner before dessert, cheap-ass. [ It's grumbled out, not that doing dinner with Wesley sounds like it'd end much better than the movie date, or with any less public embarrassment, so the comment isn't really meant genuinely. And besides, he's way to distracted by that arm suddenly making a home on his shoulder. Alex's head turns slowly to furrow a disapproving brow at it, then glances up and around to see if anyone had noticed.

He's not really one for affection (he likes to think) and less so for public affection, but its a dark theater, so it's less so that and more so that he's pretty sure that makes him the girl right now. And if Wesley goes for a boob-grab, he's getting kneecapped. For now, just a deadpan stare. ] ...Seriously?

Oh, well, if you wanted dinner sweetheart-- all you had to do is ask. [ And his tone is just condescending enough to sound like he's being the typical sort of guy and chiding his date. He doesn't, however, look at Alex when he turns to glare. Wesley is completely unfettered by the fact that he has his arm around him in public. So fucking what? He'll even give a bit of a squeeze to prove his point, but his attention-- or at least what it looks like his focus-- is on the screen. ]

What do you like, Italian? Chinese? That? I'm not too picky, besides they say it's best to let your date pick first.

[ Alex gives a snort and an eyeroll. Just Wesley using the word 'date' or 'sweetheart' is ridiculous sounding. ] Pizza. Delivery. [ Because then they can go home and eat it and not be in public and continuing this hideousness.

He can't help but glance around a little more - fucking Wesley in private is one thing but that's a thing only Wesley sees and he'd be mortified if even so much as Charles and Erik knew, so he starts to sink a little in his seat, trying to ease out of the arm around him.

And then, immediately, hates himself for it. Because Christ, how much of a wuss is he? Didn't they already go through this crap about not giving a shit what other people think? Besides, Wesley obviously gives no fucks, so why should he? Alex takes the moment to oddly straighten right back up, like he can't decide whether to be awkward or not. With a stubborn sort of determination, Alex moves a hand to slide along Wesley's thigh until it rests comfortable on the inner side, a finger idling tracing the inseam. Yep. He's totally cool with this. And totally not glaring death at the screen and most definitely not looking at Wesley because ugh, this is his fault and the first person to say shit is getting a popcorn bucket shoved down their throat.

Yeah. Fuck the haters. ] And breadsticks.

I love bread sticks. [ He comments casually with a grin crawling on his cheeks as he turned his attention toward Alex for a moment. There's little more on his face than a smile, a little cock of his head to the side as he slides his hand gently along the back of his neck before Wesley looked back to the movie. ] Maybe some cheesecake. You like cheesecake? Or you want something else?

Yeah. Cheesesticks, though. With marinara. [ He tries to keep himself from glancing around to see if anyone's eying them for the PDA, so Alex just closes his eyes for a moment, tilting his head forward to appreciate Wesley's hand at his neck, leaning his shoulders a little more against him as he relaxes. ] Mhhm. Like the New York style they do at restaurants?