InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Schickles Pickles"

The back of Alex's calf was still peeling, but had stopped itching 24/7. A decided improvement, given how crazy-making the healing process had turned out to be. Still, he wasn't at all sad about his impulsive choice.

Granted, it wasn't the only out of usual character he'd made the night of the Mariah Club outing. Just showing up at Stiles and Kitty's apartment and letting himself in without texting first simply wasn't a thing he usually did. Lucky for him, it went well, and he spent an elated evening-into-morning with his boyfriend.

Now, though, he waited at the elevators for one to arrive, shifting from foot to foot because they were supposed to be having a low-key pizza and movies date night! Going all out was fun every once in a while, but his favorite times were the ones where it was just the two of them. Talking, laughing, just doing whatever. Like tonight!

His shifting turned into a full on bounce.

To say Alex's tattoo had been a surprise would be an understatement. Not the idea of him getting one, necessarily. Just the way he'd done it seemingly on a whim. Impulsive decisions were more his forte than his boyfriend's. He really liked it, though. Not that he needed to, but it really suited him.

The way he'd shown up at his place the night of the concert had been pretty incredible too. All in all he was pretty on board with these spur of the moment decisions from Alex. He'd had zero interest in the concert himself – he couldn't think of anything worse, in fact – but when Margo had said Alex wouldn't be able to get in, his disappointment had been palpable. And if there was one thing Stiles hated, it was a disappointed Alex. Which had made the somewhat bending the rules decision to get him a fake ID for the night a no brainer.

Tonight was the kind of night he was looking forward to. Just the two of them, some time together with no real plans locked in. He was heading down in the elevator to meet Alex, only slightly impatiently, and when the doors opened he was confronted with the familiar sight of the blond all but bouncing in place. He couldn't have stopped the grin splitting his face if he tried.

"Don't tell me," he mock guessed. "You hate our plans."

"They're just the worst!" Alex chirped. Yes, chirped. That was just a thing he did when he was excited to see his boyfriend. Fortunately, it wasn't every time—the chirping, not the excitement. His heart would have stop all over again, forever and for good and for never coming back as a ghost, for him not to be excited to see Stiles. He launched himself at Stiles before the elevator doors were fully open, and caught him up in a spinning kiss. "Hi, hot boyfriend!"

Stiles had no choice but to sort of catch Alex when he launched himself at him, taking a step back as he did, laughing into the kiss. Not that he had any objections to this sort of greeting from his boyfriend, nor was it at all unfamiliar. This level of enthusiasm wasn't anything new from him.

"Hi, overzealous boyfriend." He pulled back far enough to say it, though kept his arms around him. He was only teasing, of course, and he knew Alex knew that, or he'd never have said it. He happened to be kind of gone for this bubbly, passionate guy he considered himself so lucky to have met in this place.

Alex laughed and gave Stiles another squeeze before letting him go and leaning back against the elevator wall. Aiming for cool was absolutely undercut by the smile tugging at his mouth. He couldn't have stopped it if he tried. It didn't matter what this place threw at them. Nothing was going to make Alex love his amazing guy any less. There was only more and greater where his heart was concerned. "You love my zeal. Over, under, or right in-between."

Shifting his foot forward, he toed at the end of Stiles's shoe. "What's on the movie menu tonight?"

He kind of squinted in that way that suggested he was actually thinking about his answer, which they both knew was a total lie. "You got me," he finally allowed.

The thing about living in a fancy building like this one, which was still a thing he couldn't quite get over, was that even the elevator felt over the top. It also always took a lot longer than he expected to reach the floor the apartment was on. Which were the sort of inane thoughts he had as he watched Alex toe at his shoe. "Right, movies. The thing I totally forgot to pick. Shocking, I know." He'd gone looking earlier to pick some, but then this guy's stand up routine had popped up on YouTube, and he'd fallen down a rabbit hole of situational comedy that had him laughing enough to startle Roey from her nap.

It was fine, though. Movies were easy. "Do you want something you've already seen, or something new?"

Tilting his head by a hair, Alex fixed his boyfriend with a knowing smile, but didn't ask down what rabbit hole Stiles may have fallen. As vast as the internet was, it could have been about anything. He weaved forward and stole a quick peck of lips before leaning against the wall again, his arms crossed behind his back. There was no need to voice his amusement when he could just show it in the best way he knew how. "I'll try to contain my surprise. No promises for next time."

He thought about it, weighing the options of both before coming down on the obvious choice—to him, at least. "Something we've both seen! So if we talk in the middle of it, we won't miss anything. I want to hear about your upcoming semester."

He gave him a suspicious look at that, still absolutely playing along, as the elevator dinged to signal its arrival at the right floor.

Reaching for one of the hands behind his back, Stiles took it to pull him out of the elevator by joined hands. "Something we've both seen before. Sooooo Die Hard?" He was pretty sure his love for that movie was well known by this point, but he was only (mostly) joking with the suggestion, since he was pretty sure it wasn't an Alex favorite. At the mention of the upcoming semester he groaned theatrically. "I haven't even started thinking about that yet. Want to go for me? They won't even notice." It wasn't that he didn't love his classes, he did. And the upcoming ones were going to be just as good. It was just a lot between that and the internship and he was kind of loving the downtime.

It took absolutely nothing for Alex to twist his hand around until their fingers were tangled up in one another. He had to laugh at the movie choice, but not meanly. At the groan, however, he leaned his shoulder against Stiles's in sympathy, already a little sorry he'd asked. "Setting aside the fact that we're past Christmas now, and it's already been established that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, I think it's perfect. You can cheer on John McClain in all his bloody, shirtless glory, and I can feel immense satisfaction when Hans-of-the-many-accents finally gets his thirty story comeuppance."

He reached across himself to poke Stiles's chest as they approached the apartment door. "They would absolutely notice if I took your place. First of all, I'd get all the answers wrong. Secondly, I look like I should be in a boy band, which I fear may be a pretty big departure from your usual vibe. We could do swapsies for a class? See if anyone actually goes 'Hey, wait…'"

"It is a pretty good comeuppance, as far as movie villains go." There weren't many more iconic scenes than Hans Gruber falling backward out the window of Nakatomi Plaza. He wouldn't have minded if Alex wasn't interested in watching it again, but he was also secretly pleased he agreed it was a Christmas movie (not that Stiles was averse to watching it any time of year). It also just happened to be the perfect choice for what Alex had been looking for; a movie they could talk through and not really miss anything.

He gave his boyfriend a skeptical look at the claim about his appearance, grabbing ineffectually at the finger that poked at his chest. "You wouldn't get all the answers wrong. And you do not look like you should be in a boy band." Not that he considered himself an expert on what that entailed, but he had images in mind of the bands who did coordinated dances. He didn't think Alex came close to fitting that criteria. "You just don't match my usual vibe because that would involve incorporating ninety percent more flannel into your wardrobe," he added as he opened the apartment door.

"Highly satisfying." After a small nod and entry to the apartment, Alex toed off his shoes and put them in the spot where they lived next to the door. They hadn't been in the new building long, and yet it was easy to fall into new habits, new ways to make this feel like home. He was barely conscious of it now, which spoke to how often he came over. If it got to be too much, he trusted Kitty (or Stiles) to tell him. He also trusted himself not to be hurt about it. This was their space, after all.

"I could rock pink flannel!" Alex laughed, as if that would actually help level the playing field of the classes Stiles took. "But I'm still not going to tank your GPA. You worked hard for it, and I'd be forever guilty." Putting a little distance between them and making sure the area was clear, he executed a dance move he'd seen going viral on TikTok—one out of an old video that came out a couple of years after he'd died. Maybe in his world, too, but he wasn't for sure for sure. He ended it with an unnecessary flourish and grinned at his boyfriend. "Put me in the boy band, coach! I'm ready to dance!"

Stiles was a bit less conscientious about where his shoes ended up, though they were in the general right place as he pulled his phone from his pocket to get a pizza order going. At least, they'd talked about pizza when they'd first discussed this. Not that they'd had any set plans locked in. "Do you still want pizza?"

Of course, all thoughts of ordering pizza went out the window at Alex's impromptu dance. "Okay," he laughed once he was done, as impressed as he always was. "I'll stick with the classes and you stick with the dancing. I envy your rhythm." He still maintained his boyfriend was too good to be pigeonholed with boy bands, though.

Alex left his answer until after his impromptu dance break, then bopped over to slip his arms around Stiles's neck. Being close like this was one of his favorite things. "Deal. And, yeah, I'm totally good with pizza! Can we get a salad, too? No olives, please, and extra green peppers? And enough for Kitty! I can chip in." He nuzzled his boyfriend's nose, then wrinkled his own. "Speaking of, I left my balls at home. I figured Kitty could use a break from all the rhythmic thumping."

Did he keep a straight face? Only by some miracle. Still, his eyes sparkled with barely contained amusement.

Where Alex managed to keep a straight face, Stiles failed completely, laughing at what had to be the hundredth repeat of the same terrible joke as his arms went around Alex in turn. There was just no helping it. "I'm sure Kitty will appreciate that." She was a lot more sensitive to sounds, and smells, than they were. As proven by her reaction the time she'd burned the dinner she'd tried to cook for him. It was similar, but different, to how it was with Scott or Malia. Kitty didn't seem capable of smelling his emotions on him. He wasn't sorry about that difference.

"Green peppers, no olives," he dutifully repeated the request, bringing the hand holding his phone up between them to continue the order from their regular spot. "Also a dessert pizza," he added, because the picture made it look really good. Ordering enough for Kitty too made the order a lot bigger than it would otherwise have been, but he didn't mind. He cooked for them most of the time, and much like it had been with his dad, he liked to splurge occasionally.

Watching Stiles's face while he laughed had to be in Alex's top ten favorite things. Possibly top five. Regardless, it tipped Alex over into helpless giggles as well. He could barely speak through the resulting hiccups, but managed a bright, "Anything for someone's delicate wolfy sensibilities."

Even if it sounded like a joke, he really meant it. He liked Kitty a lot. Not only was she Stiles's roommate, Alex thought she might also be his best friend—or one of them at least. And she was a good person, regardless of any emotional ties she and Alex may have shared. Really, though, at the end of the day, it was about being decent and considerate to another person's needs. Like getting extra pizza when they ordered. Alex let his boyfriend go as soon as it went through, but only to take his hand and tug him toward the couch. "And now we wait. Should we start the only Christmas movie that matters now, or after we get food?"

Stiles scooped up the remote from the coffee table as he flopped onto the couch beside Alex, arm brushing his. "Considering how much attention we know we'll be paying, let's start it now." TV on, he flicked through to the right menu to select it, the familiar music coming through the speakers.

"I want to hear more about that, though. Only Christmas movie that matters? Don't get me wrong, I agree. But I figured you'd be more an It's a Wonderful Life kind of guy. Or maybe Love Actually. Wait no, that one's after your time. Miracle on 34th Street! That's got Alex vibes for sure. My mom was a sucker for that one. Remake, though. Not the original." Of course, that last Christmas she'd forgotten she'd ever seen it, but that wasn't the depressing thought he was going for right now.

"Real talk, there may have been a slight amount of hyperbole in that declaration." Alex squeezed his thumb and forefinger together until there was hardly any space between them. Dropping his hand again was just an excuse to take Stiles's and lean his head against his shoulder. "I don't know if you've ever heard of it, but Santa Claus: The Movie had a really heavy rotation in my house. When I was ten, my parents accidentally 'lost' the VHS tape for about six weeks. Of course, it miraculously showed up again in January. Lucky for them, my thirst for vengeance was overwhelmed by my love for drumming. Or maybe that was the revenge all along, and my unconscious mind new exactly while I was throwing myself into it."

He chuckled at the memory, only a little sad at all the parental associations, yet happy that Stiles had what he did with his mom. "Maybe in the summer we can both put on our favorites and throw a Christmas in July party. We can decorate an inflatable flamingo! It could be our new tradition or something."

"Shocked," Stiles laughed, because he certainly couldn't say it with a totally straight face. "I had zero idea that's what you were doing." When he took his hand he curled their fingers together, leaning back into the couch as Alex put his head on his shoulder. He'd been expecting that to wind up happening, admittedly. Not that he had his boyfriend figured by this point or anything. "The only Santa Claus movie I know is the Santa Clause, which is a really stupid one with that guy from that Home Improvement show. My dad used to watch that, he thought it was hilarious." Stiles had probably been too young to get it, and going back now it had just been way too dated.

"I bet they wished they hadn't taken it away from you when you got into the drumming with a vengeance. Or maybe not, since I'm assuming you were great from the start." He could still remember the several week petition when he'd been six or seven to get a drum kit, just because someone at school had mentioned it. In hindsight he was grateful his dad had recognized that as a temporary fixation. "How could I pass up the chance to put a Santa hat on an inflatable flamingo?"

It took a second for the description to trigger a vague memory. "Oh, yeah! I didn't get a chance to watch that one, but I remember the commercial. Where Home Improvement dude's hair turned white, and he grew that beard crazy fast. It looked like it would be right up my parents' alley. Dad loved that show." Alex sighed before he could stop himself. "That was the Christmas right after things got bad with the 'rents, so I didn't do much but practice with the band and couch surf—I think that's what you call it now. But maybe it'd be cool to add to the new tradition list?"


He lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. "I don't know if I was good at it, but I certainly threw myself at it like it was the sure-fire cure for my anxiety." Wow, sometimes Alex wondered if he was a little too honest. He twisted to the side, just far enough to lay a smacking kiss to Stiles's cheek. "Smart man! You don't get an opportunity like that every day. I should probably see if some places might still have their decorations on discount. Start amassing now so we can be prepared to go fully overboard."

"That's the one. I don't actually remember a whole lot of it." Basically what Alex was describing, and that he'd had to become Santa for some reason. Had Santa died, or something? He didn't know if his memory was way off because that felt really dramatic for a Christmas movie. But then again, Die Hard was pretty dramatic. Neither of which were important considerations, so he let the thought drop. He held back a wince at the mention of bad times with his parents – that wasn't something Alex needed to be dwelling on. "I'm good with throwing it on there, I'm a bit invested in knowing what happened, now."

"Did it help, at least?" Because Alex might have felt like he was too honest, but that wasn't going to stop Stiles from asking more questions of him. He thought of all those times he'd gone down to see Alex in the studio, when they'd still been at the station. It had to have at least helped a little for it to have been his go to so often. He assumed it was a bit like his never ending hunt for distractions, falling down rabbit holes that didn't start with anxiety but they definitely hadn't hurt. Those thoughts were dismissed at the kiss to his cheek and he grinned, twisting to better face Alex, the movie forgotten as predicted. "We should go find some tomorrow. I bet there's still places with a whole load of really garish decorations on sale that no one wanted. Abandoned without a home."

The idea that either of them could be invested in any of this with any degree of sincerity was enough to make Alex laugh all over again. All of it was one more thing he loved about hanging out with Stiles. Things were low stakes, and their plans were silly, and everything was as perfect as this weird world could be.


He lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug and also turned to mirror Stiles. On the screen, the bad guys were crashing the office Christmas party. There were scenes he knew Stiles would want to see, and they'd watched Die Hard enough for Alex to know when they had to pause their conversation. "It did some, yeah. Sometimes. You know how it is with stuff like that. It may help one day, but the next I could play until my arms feel like they're going to fall off, and I still can't get the brain bees to be quiet."


Alex felt himself flush, even though he knew any of this wouldn't matter to Stiles, who would never think less of him just because his head did dumb things sometimes. His attempt to move on was clumsy at best. "A decor date! We're gonna scavenge for the tackiest Christmas ever!"


Stiles recognized the internal flailing likely happening behind that flush to Alex's skin. He couldn't resist bringing a hand up, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. "I happen to like your brain bees," he told him, covering any idea that he had any need to comfort him in the moment by leaning in to punctuate the action with a kiss.


"A decor date." He fished his phone out of his pocket when it buzzed at him, a notification that their pizza order had left the store and was on its way to them. He still had half an eye on the movie, he couldn't help himself, but this was all the mostly boring exposition stuff right now. "I don't think I've ever had one of those before. But tacky decorations are the best kind. Does a decor date also involve maybe going and seeing a movie after? Or are they more about dinner at the wharf?"


Without a hint of irony, Alex hummed into the kiss. On reflection, he could acknowledge how unintentionally funny it was. Just like that, his mood rose and stayed that way.


He watched Stiles check his phone and the movie, but Alex's attention was pretty much only on his boyfriend. A tiny smile bloomed into a broad one. "Decor dates can absolutely contain both a movie and dinner at the wharf! They're all about whatever we want them to be. Like decorations themselves, they can totally be changed and updated and even disregarded altogether—whatever fits the mood!"


"I like that. Last minute changes in plans are sometimes just what's needed." Or not plans, since they were making it whatever they wanted it to be. "Except for the flamingo. That absolutely has to happen now." He'd put it right there beside the TV to drive Kitty crazy. At least it wouldn't be a lifesize statue of him made of cheese this time. Not that he'd actually been committed to the idea of keeping that. Well, mostly. The idea had been there for a little while. Who wouldn't want to keep an improbable cheese statue of themselves? Excluding his boyfriend, given the whole lactose intolerance angle. Which, fair.


"We'll have to make this happen before next week. I feel like decor dates need the right amount of time devoted to them, you know? They're not a thing that should be rushed." He pulled a face as on screen Takagi got shot, the blood and brains hitting the glass never not equally gross but cool.


"Oh, yeah, no, the lack of flamingo is a non-starter. It is, in fact, the very linchpin on which this entire enterprise hangs." Alex tried for grave, but his giggling totally undercut the attempt. Might as well put his required speech class to good use. If nothing else, it was good for any potential media stuff with the band. Luke and Julie would always been the front people, but it was good to be prepared with a soundbite when necessary.


Where Stiles made sure he was watching, Alex was saved the necessity of pointing the scene off. He did as he always did and buried his face in Stiles's shoulder. There, he replied warmly, "No, no, of course. Decor dates are a thing that needs to be savored. Like all the time I get to spend with you."


He didn't even blink, familiar with this routine at the more gruesome moments of the movie. Though thankfully Die Hard didn't have too many of those. Admittedly even the scene where his feet got all cut up was one Stiles had trouble with. But there was a reason he kept certain shows and movies off his rotation when he was with Alex. Like some of the true crime documentaries he became engrossed in. He found them fascinating, but Alex didn't need that in his life when he wasn't a fan.


"I love how we keep finding these coincidental moments. I happen to like all the time with you, too. Who knew?" The buzzer indicating someone was waiting at the concierge interrupted any further thoughts on the subject, and Stiles extricated himself from Alex's hold to go and answer it and let the delivery person up to their floor. "Do you ever still question how this is our lives now?" He asked as he hung up. "This place does not feel real."


"Only all the time." Which was the truth this time, and not one stretched to unbelievability. Alex stretched out toward the arm of the couch for a moment, before having the present of forethought that they would need drinks.


He jumped up and went to the kitchen to grab a couple sodas and some water while Stiles got their order, and met him back at the couch. "Sometimes I think about how we left things in Julie's garage, like we were changing into something new, somehow able to touch her and feel it. Then I was here, and alive, and I never thought—well, you know. All of it feels like something out of a book or movie or someone's crazy fanfiction."


The pizza boxes were sat on the table, the bag with Alex's salad placed in front of him before he sat back down beside him. "Things at home were weird, but it was the kind of weird I was used to. It didn't extend to living in places like this, or miraculously being able to learn languages really fast." Or meeting people like Alex, though he left that one off. It didn't feel fair when his friends from home weren't here. It wasn't even meant to be a comparison, yet somehow it felt that way to think it. "Would have been helpful if that extended to my coursework. That's been leveling up like a video game." He quirked an eyebrow at Alex as the rest of what he'd said registered, smirk beginning to form. "You read fanfiction?"


Alex nodded slowly, reflectively. "Our own flavors of weirdness, yeah. Or vibes, if you want to get musical about it. You know I always do." He chuckled and leaned in to unwrap his salad so he could pull the box into his lap. One of the pizzas in the pile was basically just for him, but the lactose-free option was always small. There didn't tend to be any leftovers by the time he left in the morning, so he'd get a salad to help stretch it out. "A familiar weirdness. It's… nice that it's not constant here, but the breaths between are just holding on for the next unpredictable thing and hoping it's nothing bad. The language thing is definitely a positive, of course. It's rad you're picking it up so fast! I never thought I'd be where I am with the graphic design stuff either. "


The valid question tacked on to the end nearly made Alex choke on the big leafy bite he'd just paused to take. He had to swallow thickly, his entire face blazing. "Maybe a handful, but mostly just when I first got here. I heard some girls in my English class talking about it and got curious. Fell down the fandom well on a couple of shows our universes have in common, but had to stop when I stumbled across the real person stuff. Like, when you see Steve Rogers-slash-Loki, you have to walk away from the internet and go outside to touch grass for a while. Those are our neighbors, but also, like, a big deal hero and a war criminal in their own timeline, I guess? It's okay to judge me. I judged myself plenty back then."


"Dude, the waiting is the worst." Alex didn't need to explain that one, he was in complete agreement. The not knowing would always be the hardest part. Well, no. Not the hardest part. But it didn't feel good either. "At least the graphic design is something you can use. Imagine how awesome your album covers will look now?"


Stiles paused in loading up his plate with a third slice of pizza at the response to his question, snorting at the description of Steve Rogers and Loki. Okay, admittedly not what he'd been picturing when Alex mentioned fanfiction. The pink cheeks were a sure fire sign of his embarrassment even before Alex said it was okay to judge. The over explanation really said it all. "Please, you think I haven't fallen down some seriously weird internet rabbit holes in my time? I have seen things that made me regret all my life choices. I wouldn't be in a position to judge even if I wanted to. Admittedly not…stories like that." Because he couldn’t judge, but he wouldn’t be who he was if he didn’t tease a little.


Sitting back, Alex closed his eyes and pictured the handful of ideas he'd come up with this past week alone. It was cool to actually see some of them in reality on a screen. He wasn't sure he'd ever be a traditional artist like Rapunzel, James, or Luz, but he seemed to be managing the graphic side of things pretty well. "Yeah, it's a pretty cool idea. There's probably worse ways of filling in the waiting time, y'know?" He affected a shudder. "We could be bored and waiting."


Even with Stiles's assurances, Alex still wanted to sink into the couch and disappear forever. He'd made light of the whole Loki thing, but he still knew how weird it was for Phil and Matt. With his salad sat in his lap, his head dropped back and he groaned. "It was a two second glance at the summary, and words in an order that are still seared in my brain. Some people on the internet are very creative and very horny. I try to stick to the music part of it, but it still bleeds through. More than you might think." He ate another couple of bites, barely watching the scenes play out in front of him. After a few moments, he ventured, "If you could only stick to one corner of the internet, what would it be? What interest do you think you could keep for the rest of your life?"


Stiles paused with his slice of pizza half way to his plate, an amused glance directed at his boyfriend at the put upon shudder. "You'll have to show me what you come up with." He wasn't sure whether Alex would volunteer it up without him asking first.


It was probably kind of ironic that he got a bit caught up admiring Alex's neck right when he said people on the internet were horny. It was just that when he tipped his head back like that it was all kinds of distracting. Not even John McClane crawling through an air duct on screen with his classic snarky line was quite enough to deter the thought. He made a point of finishing his slice of pizza instead. Alex's question completely stumped him, though. "Oh man, the rest of my life?" He sucked some cheese off the side of his thumb as he considered his answer. "Is it cheating if I say wikipedia? That's technically one corner of the internet, but then I get more than one interest. Because I don't think I can do that. It would drive me crazy." His head was filled with at least three different things he was either reading up on or wanted to be reading about at any one time. Just one? That felt impossible.


A chance glance at the right time was enough to send a hot flicker jolting up Alex's spine. He recognized the look that briefly crossed Stiles's face, and found the very same reflected back, always simmering under the surface when he was with his boyfriend or even just thinking about him. So all the time, really. Alex left it unremarked, but still smiled at little. Of course, that's when Stiles did a thing with his thumb, making it Alex's turn to stare and think certain thoughts. He swallowed around nothing and clawed his attention back to the topic he'd brought up.


Smirking slightly, he reached out a hand to jostle Stiles's knee. "I think in this case, I can be magnanimous: you'd be allowed all of Wikipedia, even if it's a technicality. It probably wasn't really a fair question anyway. I'd never want to limit you."


He laughed at that, bumping his shoulder into Alex's. "Look at you, not letting all that power go to your head. Those questions are good, though. Really I'm cheating, that was a cop out. If I had to narrow it down, I guess the supernatural. Or true crime. I love trying to figure out who did it before they tell you." Whether it was an article or a show he was watching. It was a game he always played. But everything he'd learned about the supernatural world was so fascinating, and he'd really only scraped the surface. Especially factoring in alternate realities. It was limitless.

There really was no ignoring that feeling that pretty much always lingered between them. It was just a case of choosing not to acknowledge it in certain moments. For as long as humanly possible. Which was not easy given Stiles struggled being patient on a good day. Leaning forward to get a soda, he chose instead to turn his attention back to the movie, where McClane was just abandoning the dead guy's shoes because they didn't fit. "See, this always annoys me. Cut the toes out or something. Has to be better than walking on all that broken glass."


The answer didn't surprise Alex in the slightest. He'd had a couple of guesses, and the choices Stiles provided fit neatly alongside of his own. Kind of like Stiles himself, and their lives here in this weird San Francisco. Puzzle pieces, yeah. Maybe that would be his next tattoo. Alex smiled at his boyfriend and nodded as he stuffed almost an entire slice in his mouth. Around it, he mumbled, "That'd be perfect. There's no shortage of the supernatural. Or crime… Sadly. Depending on which way you look at it, I guess."


Whatever spell that was building between them seemed to take a breath. Alex glanced at the screen just long enough to confirm the scene he couldn't really watch. The crunching sound was bad enough, and Alex had to lift his legs and tuck his feet under them just to get past the wriggly feeling in the soles of his shoes. "I think that kind of adaptability flies in the face of super macho action-man logic. Tell me when it's over? I've got the wiggins."


"That's kind of a struggle, huh. Because liking solving crime means there has to be crime to solve. And wanting that is probably not good." But it didn't stop him liking it so much. Not that it had to be crime. If that all magically disappeared and they were living in a utopian society he'd find some other puzzle to solve. It was finding the answers that he lived for.


Though he didn't look away, he did wince at the excessive blood as the scene played out. "The kind of macho action-man logic that says he should be dead 10 times over, you mean? Remind me to show you that video later." It was hilarious, tallying up the number of times John McClane should have died. He'd probably exaggerated though, from memory it was maybe four or five. At least the glass-blood-walking on bit didn't last too long, and he dutifully nudged Alex's shoulder again when it was safe to look. "Okay, gruesome bit over. You can look."


"Problematic fave," Alex observed lowly with a shallow nod, then lifted his shoulder and let it drop. "We've all got something we probably shouldn't like, but do anyway. Mine are probably viral dances and old boy bands. Not my style of music, playing-wise, but I like the vibes. And we've both seen there's not a dance I won't try at least once. We like what we like, and that's okay."


Terrible analogies, considering, but Alex knew what he meant and figured Stiles would as well. Or at least the gist of it.


As he waited patiently for the scene to end, he consumed two more slices. At this point, he was edging toward full, but the comfortable kind. Alex glanced up at the all clear and leaned over to kiss Stiles's cheek in thanks. "I'll remind you about the video just as soon as Reginald VelJohnson has his big hero moment. It's my favorite part. Well, and the bit with the limo driver. Hurray for the underdogs!"


He thought that liking old boy bands and viral dances wasn't quite on the same level as liking crime, but he got what Alex was saying, regardless. And it wasn't as though he was actually saying he liked crime, so it was probably a stupid thought to get caught up in. "There's a question. Because I know when it comes to music some people have an innate talent, but there's also a whole lot of work involved. What about with dancing? Did you ever take classes, or were you just born with rhythm?" Because Stiles was pretty sure he'd been born with two left feet. It was just not a skill he had ever possessed.


Stiles put a last slice on his plate, grinning at Alex's favorite part. "Argyle is the best. He's so funny." And blundered into being a badass, somehow. "I kind of love the reporter getting his comeuppance, too." Again, one of those things he and Alex probably differed on, because it was enjoying watching someone get punched in the face, but he couldn't help but enjoy the karma.


"No classes." Alex sighed quietly, but still continued to smile. "My parents had pretty strong ideas about gender stuff, but the girls in my school thought it was fun to teach me what they learned in their own classes. Especially the older ones. I think I was kind of like a doll to them? But I didn't mind it. It was better than the many, many sports I tried and failed." They were better times than he was probably making it sound, and that was before therapy and finding drumming. "I guess you could say I always wanted to move, but only to music."


He nodded quickly, delighted. Funny how they were already talking about the end of the movie when there were still so many scenes left to go. "Oh, same! Like, I'm not a huge fan of gratuitous whatever, but that moment is really satisfying. There are exceptions, you know?"


He always liked these little insights into Alex's life before he'd met him. He felt like all he had for his boyfriend was the doom and gloom of Beacon Hills because of everything this place had thrown at them, so talking about things like dancing and sports made a nice change. He also didn't think much of Alex's parents and so the less said on that subject the better. "Hang on, which sports did you try?" He found it hard to believe he'd failed at all of them. Sure, he mostly sucked at lacrosse, but he had the aforementioned lack of coordination to contend with. Alex was basically his opposite on that front as far as he'd seen.


"There are absolutely exceptions for douche reporters taking advantage of innocent kids. Ironically, or not, his name is Dick. I always liked that."


Reaching back into his memory, Alex rattled off: "Basketball, football, soccer, field hockey. At the end of the the day, I didn't like vaguely globular objects flying at me, but specifically my head. Fortunately, I was just at the right age where the tears were only embarrassing for them." He smirked, oddly triumphant after all this time. "They got me out of sports I didn't want to do, so win-win. Just not at the sports."


A laugh nearly exploded out of him, and Alex's brows actually twitched from holding it back. "He's the bad kind of Dick. It's a good thing we know a good Dick." His gaze dipped toward Stiles's lap, before it raised again with obvious mirth. "Well, I know a couple, at least."


And then he burst into giggles.


"Oh wow, okay. I tried basketball once. I was terrible. I'll pause here for your best shocked reaction. I never bothered with football. Something told me that would be a disaster." Sort of like how lacrosse was often a disaster, but that was all about Scott, as previously noted. "But using the tears to your advantage. Wiley, I like it." When Stiles hadn't been interested in something he'd flat out just announced it. Which had usually ended in detention.


He nearly choked on a poorly timed bite of pizza at that pointed look, skipping straight past Alex's giggles into outright laughter. "Oh my god," he finally managed. "That was terrible." So bad he could barely stop laughing. He dropped the forgotten slice back on his plate as the laughter died down a bit, leaving it on the coffee table and giving Alex a look that was all raised eyebrows and false innocence. "Always good to know where your thoughts are."


"Look"—Alex shifted a little in his seat on the couch, almost antsy with the sudden need to defend himself even though he knew Stiles didn't mean anything about it. Anxiety was stupid sometimes—"I didn't know what emotional blackmail was until I was, like, ten. At the time, I was only five or six, but also already very certain I would never be a sports person. It just wasn't in my DNA, despite the fact that both my parents liked golf and tennis."


None of it mattered in the face of Stiles's laugh, though, and Alex joined in. He grinned widely, openly preening, and set his plate aside as well so he could meet Stiles's faux innocence with real and unequivocal heat. "Mmm, yeah, they're super helpful right now. Totally conducive to movie watching."


"Hey," he immediately soothed, recognizing the explanation for what it was. "I was just kidding. You said it yourself, you were just a kid." He'd probably always known he wasn't a sports person either, really. But then again he'd gone through endless versions of the type of person he was as a kid. The desire to try new hobbies had been constant.


"Please," Stiles scoffed in the face of that preening look. "I think we both know the chances of making it to the end of the movie took a nosedive about ten minutes in." Or around the time Alex had started distracting him. "Which is all your fault, for the record. Nothing to do with me. Just you and your R rated thoughts over there. The innocent face is fooling no one."


A different kind of guilt rippled through him, but Alex knew enough not to listen to that particular voice. The last thing he needed was another useless shame spiral. So, he just looked at Stiles with a soft smile and nodded. "Yeah, I know. Kids are gonna be kids, in all the spectrum that contains. I bet you were a delightful terror. If we'd grown up together, I would've wanted so badly to be your friend, but too shy to actually say 'hi.'"

He laughed again at the accusation, eyes going wide, but not at all innocent. "Excuse you, they're a hard PG-13 at most!" Shifting to the side and leaning in closer, Alex let his voice go a little lower. "Ten minutes in, huh? That's a long time to be sitting there, resisting all this temptation." He wriggled, the tiniest bit snake-like, then giggled and kissed the corner of Stile's mouth. "You're a stronger man than me. Two minutes more, and I would've been all over you."

"'A delightful terror'," he repeated with a smirk. "I don't know how many people would agree with you on the first half of that. I was definitely a terror." He poked Alex lightly in the shoulder. "There's a reason Scott was my only friend, you know. I think that would probably have been the other way around." That or Alex wouldn't have wanted anything to do with the hyperactive spaz. That was how it had usually gone when he was a kid.

He was kind of in love with the way Alex kissed the corner of his mouth that way. Which probably wasn't saying much considering he loved pretty much most things about Alex. "You have no idea," he said in a tone not far removed from his boyfriend's, gaze deliberately moving over 'all that temptation' before sliding away. "I should put this food in the fridge. Are you done?" He made a point of starting to stack up the pizza boxes to carry the rest of it into the kitchen.

Alex shrugged. They wouldn't agree on the nonsense point of their current discussion, and that was okay. He liked when they weren't always Happy Houses all the time. Stiles had a way of challenging him, making him think new things. Alex loved that about him. Loved everything about him. "I'm pretty happy to be in this particular minority. And Scott was lucky to find you."

While Stiles didn't exactly move away quickly, it wasn't difficult to see where his current actions were leading. "Oh, yeah, I think I'm very done. With the food. And the movie." Alex got to his feet as well and grabbed their drinks and whatever else Stiles wasn't able to get. The more they could hurry up the roommate courtesy, the better. He could feel the thrum of want just under his skin; it made him just a hair shy of impatient. "Never you, though."

"Obviously. He was being picked on in the sandbox. We were very cliche back then." He'd got in a fight with Jackson Whittemore and gone home that day and declared Scott his best friend. But this was one of those discussion points he was happy to let fall to the wayside in favor of more important things.

Setting the boxes on the counter and hunting out a plate to put the pizza on to go in the fridge, he smirked up at Alex. "You and your lines." That despite his teasing, he wouldn't trade for anything. He was a big fan of playful Alex. On screen, John McClane was getting ready to jump off the roof with nothing but a firehose to hold him up, and Stiles couldn't help but be momentarily distracted, before he remembered to cover the pizza and actually get it into the fridge. There was still plenty there for Kitty when she got home, and maybe even some cold pizza for them for breakfast. Possibly the best way to eat pizza.

"I guess I'm done too." He turned back to face Alex. "Movie ends the same way every time." And now he had other things on his mind.

"Yeah, well, I've always been a sucker for a cliche." Of course the one in Alex's head was playground knight in shining armor, but that was neither here nor there. After all this time and all the things they'd seen and experienced, he hoped Stiles knew there was no version of him he didn't love.

Watching his boyfriend move around his space—and get distracted by the movie—made Alex smile fondly and wonder, in a distant kind of way, if these moments would play out the same if (when) they moved in together. He liked to think so, deep down in his heart of hearts. Slightly more certain was the end of Die Hard "Exeunt Holly and John, pursued by the media. The only way it should be."

Alex helped put away the last couple of things then stepped in close enough to lace their fingers together. "We should probably move this to your room so Kitty doesn't come in in the morning and wrinkle her nose at the state of the couch— or the counter."

"There you go using fancy words I don't know again." It was a pretty good ending. Not his favorite part of the movie as a whole, but a nice wrap up. The less said of the first sequel the better. That set up? Weak. Now the third one, that was awesome. He'd have to watch that later. Probably without Alex, who'd been subjected to enough gratuitous violence for one day.

Biting back a smirk he put on his best incredulous tone. "Alex Mercer. Suggesting salacious activity in the kitchen? Shame on you." He used their now joined hands to pull him in the direction of his room. The movie would eventually stop on its own, so he left it to play.