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Scott Pilgrim has a crush on his cool, gay roommate.
This shouldn’t be a problem. Notably, the roommate is both cool and gay, putting him on the market, maybe, probably. He doesn’t think Wallace is single but he’s also not not single? So that’s all good. And also Scott is also single right now so, that problem isn’t a problem (this time). No, the problem is that it’s just happening right now. Now, when he’s lived with said cool gay roommate for uh, a while, and not maybe back when they first met in college and said cool gay roommate was (probably) hitting on him. (Why else would Wallace have grabbed his knee so often back then? And well, everything else? There’s no time to unpack all that right now.)
Scott doesn’t pretend to be the most interiorly aware guy in the universe, so it’s possible this crush thing was going on longer than he realized. But when he realized was, as with most things, when he was dreaming.
His dream wasn’t too different from the real world this time: it was just him, lounging in bed, playing on his Gameboy, kicking some ass. Then, he beat the boss (that he still has yet to beat in his waking life, we don’t talk about it), and looked over to brag to Wallace, who was laying there right next to him, a gentle warmth nestled into his side. The sunlight was bouncing off his skin in radiant sparkles (which really should’ve been the first clue this was a dream; there’s no sun in their apartment), his fingers folded together on his chest, smirking and looking like he was the most peaceful, happiest guy in the whole world.
“Nice job, guy,” Dream Wallace congratulated him. “Bring it here,” he said, tapping two fingers to his lips. And so Scott did; he leaned down and gave Dream Wallace a sweet, sweet kiss right on the lips. He could’ve sworn he even felt Wallace’s fingers start to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer, when -
Scott’s eyes had snapped open, face-to-face with Real Wallace (no sunlight to be found), sound asleep. He was inches away from him, his lips parted just a bit, the unmistakable scent of last night’s beer on his breath. He could lean forward and give it a try if he really wanted…
What the hell was happening?! His first thought was maybe he was having some weird rebound situation. Ramona and him had been broken up for a few months now (amicably, mutual - but still sad, as all endings were), and he was solidly without other crush options, being as most of the girls he knew were his exes at this point. So like, maybe his brain was playing weird tricks on him, right? Just shuffling through the inventory for options? God, he was so lonely.
That’s when he noticed the text bubble floating over his head.
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED:
WOAH, HE’S BISEXUAL! I DIDN’T KNOW THAT.
He quickly jumped to his feet, swatting at the air to clear the notification. Unfortunately, his early morning acrobatics weren’t quite up to par, tangling his feet in the blanket and landing himself chest-first across Wallace’s poor sleeping body.
“Jesus!” Wallace half-screamed half-grunted as the air was forced out of him. “What the hell, Scott?!”
Peeking up at Wallace from his horrible position, Scott realized just how overwhelmingly… fond he felt at Wallace’s sleep-addled self, even when he was yelling at him. His hair was still slick with gel from the night before, bangs sticking out every which way. It wasn’t quite sparks - he hadn’t actually kissed him yet but - shit. He had thought ‘yet.’
“Uh, earth to Scott?” Wallace asked again, quieter this time, but still winded. Scott hurried to clamber off of him.
“S-sorry!” he stammered. “Uh, weird dream!”
“Were you fighting demons or something? Goddamn.”
“Or something!” Scott replied, before promptly turning the other way and badly pretending to fall asleep.
That whole fiasco was a while ago now, and Scott’s had some time to think things over. Yes, crush on Wallace. Yes, probably latent for a while before this but we don’t need to talk about that. Yes, it is ruining his life. Normally when things are ruining his life, he talks to Wallace about it. But, he thinks that’d probably be a not-great call this time?
So he talks to Ramona.
“What brings you to my lair?” Ramona asks, standing up on her tippy toes to grab them some glasses from the cupboard, before pouring the both of them some drinks. A hard lemonade for her, a normal lemonade for him.
“So, uh, I wanna apologize in advance if this is weird to talk about with you, since we’re like, exes and stuff,” he says, tugging at his wristbands nervously. “But you’re also one of my closest friends now so I was hoping I could like, ask you maybe for some advice?”
She takes a hearty sip of her hard lemonade and says, “Spit it out, Pilgrim. Unless you’re about to tell me you still have a crush on me or something, I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Okay! Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. And then he just asks, “How’d you know you were gay?”
“I’m not gay, Scott,” she says, eyelids heavy with annoyance. “At least not how I think you mean it.”
“No! I know! I’m sorry! I guess, I mean, bi-ssssexual?” he asks. He knows the word bisexual. He doesn’t know why he’s being like this.
She stares at him long and hard. He feels like a little bug underneath a magnifying glass, and he doesn’t think he likes it very much. Then, suddenly, she leans back in her chair, self-satisfied grin on her face, “That’s why you’re talking to me about a problem, and not Wallace Wells.”
“H-hey!” he protests.
She barks a laugh so loud she snorts, “Sorry! Sorry! It’s just so obvious, it’s killing me.” After laughing some more, she wipes what seem to be tears from her eyes. “Okay, yeah. Sure, I’ll tell you.”
And so she does. She talks about middle school, and liking girls but never acting on it. Then she talks about college, when she met Roxy, and how it turned her world upside down, and how she ran away from it, which she regrets, but she’s glad the both of them have grown up in their own ways. “And now I’m open to guys and girls,” she says, shrugging. “But, honestly, I’ve had my fill on guys for a while, maybe, no offense.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” he says. His hands are flat on the chair between his legs, rocking forward antsily, eyes locked on the table in front of him.
“So how’s dating Wallace going?” she asks over the rim of her glass.
Scott’s eyes snap up at her, face twisted up in frustration, “We aren’t! I’m not!” Then he crosses his arms, clarifying, “I mean, I know what it looks like, obviously, but it’s not like that, really. He just plays around.”
Ramona considers him, tilting her head to the side while idly swishing her glass, “And you want him to not just be playing around, is that it?”
“How do you know it’s about Wallace? Maybe I’m just bisexual and thriving?” he asks.
“Because, if Wallace weren’t involved, you’d be talking to him, not me,” she says with a shrug, like it’s obvious. Which it is. Ugh.
Groaning, Scott leans his head back over the chair to stare at the ceiling instead, “Do you think he likes me? Like, like-likes me?”
When she doesn’t answer, he peeks down over his nose at her. She’s shaking her head and muttering to herself, “That poor man…”
“Huh?” he asks.
“Nothing,” she says hurriedly. “Hey, you’ll never know ‘til you try, right? How ‘bout you take him on a date?”
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED:
TAKE WALLACE WELLS ON A DATE
Scott looks up at the notification over his head.
“Has that always happened?” Ramona asks.
“Sometimes,” Scott answers. “I guess I should get on my quest then!”
ROUND 1!
“Hey, uh, Wallace?” Scott asks. It’s a random Tuesday night, and they’re just sitting around in their apartment, while Wallace reads and Scott games. Or, pretends he’s gaming. Actually he’s been staring at a blank console screen for the better part of ten minutes, psyching himself up. Come on, Scott. It’s literally just Wallace, his best friend Wallace. He’s got this.
“Yeah?” Wallace asks, not looking up from his newspaper.
“Would you wanna go out, uh, with me?” Scott asks. There, he said it. He’s amazing. Bravest man alive. His bravery on this eve will go down in history. Newly out bisexuals everywhere will praise his name. Roll credits!
“Sure, guy,” Wallace answers, neatly folding his newspaper up and setting it aside. “Where we goin’?”
Uh, that’s not the reaction Scott expected. He doesn’t wanna sound too self-centered, but he figures that IF Wallace IS into him, then he probably has been for a while, so this would probably be a pretty big deal, right? And even if he’s NOT into him, then it would still be a crazy thing for Scott Pilgrim to be asking him out. But, beggars can’t be choosers.
“Uh, just a walk, if you want? There’s that hill nearby with the nice view,” he says. He doesn’t wanna freak Wallace out, so he takes things slow. Maybe it’s cheap to repeat first date ideas, but, hey, it worked with Ramona, right?
Wallace looks confused, but shrugs and goes to put on his shoes and jacket nonetheless.
And then they’re on their walk! Hell yes! There’s no snow on the ground, which is nice, but it’s still pretty chilly out. He uses that as an excuse to walk a little closer with Wallace, angling his head in towards his shoulder. Knowing now that he’s got a stupid gay crush, the act is admittedly making him a little self-conscious, even if it’s not that different from something he’d normally do. However, Wallace doesn’t seem to share that feeling of trepidation, as he slings an arm over his shoulder, tugging him close, “Aw, are you cold, baby?” Scott thinks he’s nailed it in one go, but then Wallace is blowing hot air on his face and aggressively ruffling his beanie into his hair, and while the gesture is still silly and fond, it is decidedly not romantic.
They walk around for a while. Scott thinks about taking Wallace to the swings but decides that feels a step too weird. Instead, they just kind of circle around for a while, talking about the kind of bullshit they always do, before Wallace asks, “You ready to head back to bed?”
And Scott knows he asked it that way because it’s almost eleven o’ clock and they’ve both got work in the morning, so they’ll probably settle down as soon as they get home, but he still feels a flush fill his cheeks as he nods his agreement.
They make it home, and Scott has to resign himself to having not completed his quest even a little bit.
ROUNDS 2 & 3 !
When Scott reports his failure to Ramona, she laughs at him. Which is just, super mean, and not appreciated. But after she finally composes herself, she does give him some advice for what to try next, which he does.
So, first things first, the walk date was too casual. That works when you’ve just met someone and you’re trying to test the waters, but he’s known Wallace forever! He needs to kick it up a notch.
First, he tries to take him out to dinner. That’s a date thing, right? Except, halfway through he realizes they’re at Scott’s favorite restaurant, and not Wallace’s, which is so unthoughtful that Scott just kind of decides to stop kidding himself and take the loss on this one. To top it all off, Wallace even ends up paying like usual because Scott forgot his wallet at home.
Next, he tries to take him out to dinner again. This time, he told Wallace he could pick anywhere he wanted, Scott’s treat, so they would go to Wallace’s favorite restaurant. But he fucking forgot that Wallace’s favorite restaurant is, inexplicably, Hooters. The whole time Wallace just keeps pointing at the waitresses and trying to wingman Scott, which is apparently hilarious to Wallace, but Scott wants to die.
“He’s single, ladies!” Wallace goads, rubbing an open palm over Scott’s loose t-shirt.
“And not looking, haha!” he panic-laughs, before hissing, “Wallace, cut it out!”
“But you’re so cuuuute,” Wallace coos, pinching his cheeks.
So, yeah, not exactly a successful date. When reporting back to Ramona on that one, he elects to leave out most of the really embarrassing parts for the sake of at least a shred of his dignity.
ROUND 4 !
After that disaster, he decides to try a cozy night in: movie-night. It’s lower stakes because they’re at home, so Scott (hopefully) won’t freak out about trying to be more forward. Ramona says that the problem is he’s still acting too buddy-buddy, so of course Wallace isn’t getting the memo. He’s got this.
They’re sitting down to watch some new Lucas Lee movie. It’s not the best movie there is, but Scott and Wallace both think he’s hot, against all odds, so he’s hoping that sets the mood. Or something? If Scott’s being honest, this is just starting to get stupid. But he has a quest, and he’s here to conquer it.
Currently, Wallace is sitting in the armchair while Scott sits on the bed, leaning against the wall. He’d been hoping Wallace would sit on the bed with him and they could snuggle, but instead there’s a mood-killing amount of distance between them. At some point, Wallace pauses the movie to go piss. Scott seizes the opportunity and sits on the chair, but in a weird, not very comfortable way on the arm to make it clear there’s still room for Wallace. He figures this way if Wallace is really just trying to let Scott down easy, he’ll just sit on the futon instead and avoid whatever weird thing Scott’s doing.
“Aw, you wanna snuggle?” Wallace says when he comes back with a teasing grin and Scott just grins back at him like an idiot. Wallace has been flirting with him for years at this point, it shouldn’t be getting to him like it is. But, if he’s honest with himself, it’s always gotten to him a little bit - that’s why he usually yells at him to stop stop stop.
Today, though, Scott Pilgrim is brave and bisexual, so he just stays on the chair and says, “Maybe?” Okay, so he’s not that brave. But it works and Wallace is sitting back in the chair, leaning a little on Scott before turning the movie back on.
It takes a few more minutes for Scott to work up the courage for his next move, but eventually he does, sliding onto Wallace’s lap instead. He hums happily, settling into place, head resting right on Wallace’s chest. It’s nice.
Wallace goes stone-still under him.
“You okay?” Scott asks, peeking up at him.
Wallace takes a tight inhale through his nose, “Yeah, yeah, I’m great.” He doesn’t sound great, voice strained as he asks, “Comfy?”
“Mhm,” Scott answers, snuggling in closer. Wallace has to get the memo now, right?
Wallace doesn’t move or talk at all for the rest of the movie.
ENTER CREDITS TO PLAY AGAIN
“Ramonaaaa, I just think he’s not into me,” Scott whines, face muffled in the rug of her living room where he’s laying face-down, because he’s a sad little piece of garbage.
For her part, Ramona’s sitting on the couch, kicking him with sock-covered toes, mouth full of chips when she says, “Are you a quitter, Scott Pilgrim?”
He rolls his head to look at her, “Yeah…” She kicks him harder. “Ouch! Hey! Not nice!”
“What would Wallace say to you right now if you were pining after some girl?” Ramona says.
“He’d ask if he could pretend I was talking about a guy,” Scott says.
“Wh- I figured he’d give you a pep talk, not that, what the fuck?”
“The pep talk usually comes later,” he explains.
“Okay, focus on that. Now I’m gonna ask again, for Wallace: are you a quitter?”
Scott groans, long and juvenile, into the rug, before answering, “Noooo, I’m not a quitter.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” she says, wrapping up her remaining chips for safe-keeping. “Start with some recon. Ask him what he likes in a date, what’s the most romantic date he’s been on, whatever.”
Scott nods. Talking to Wallace is easy, he can do that, even if it’s about weird stuff like this.
SIDE QUEST UNLOCKED:
ASK WALLACE WELLS ABOUT DATES
“So uh, you date, right?” Scott asks in the most nonchalant, casual, totally cool way possible. He’s laying on his back in bed while Wallace bustles in the kitchen.
“I’ve been known to, yes,” he answers, seemingly unphased. How is he always so unphased?
“What’s your favorite kind of date you’ve been on?” Scott asks.
“Why, you tryin’ to seduce me or something?” he asks, but his back is turned and walking away before Scott can answer, ‘Duh, obviously, I’ve been trying for weeks.’
By the time he’s back within earshot, Scott’s already chickened out. “Just curious,” he says, which is the most normal answer possible.
To Wallace’s credit, he does seem to think pretty sincerely about it. Tapping the spatula to his chin, he says, “I guess ‘date’ is maybe too generous. I’m usually more of a casual sex kinda guy, but I don’t know if hooking up at clubs counts as dates.”
Scott blinks in surprise, “You’ve never been on a date?”
Wallace rolls his eyes, “Of course I’ve been on a date, Scott. But, Iunno, not often. Definitely not enough good ones to have a favorite.” He leans back against the counter, “It’s a shame, really. I mean, look at me, it’s a goddamn crime that I’m not getting wined and dined.”
SIDE QUEST COMPLETED:
ASK WALLACE WELLS ABOUT DATES
QUEST UPDATED:
TAKE WALLACE WELLS ON A DATE
WINE & DINE WALLACE WELLS
Scott jumps to clear the notification again, falling face-first on the ground.
“Dude, are you getting secret missions again? Aren’t I supposed to be your combat manager, or whatever?”
“Shut up!”
ROUND 5!
Today is Wallace Wells’ lucky day.
Or, maybe not. Maybe this is all actually very, very bad. But Wallace tries to be an optimist where he can, so when he opens the door to their apartment and sees Scott in an apron, surrounded by candles, rose petals strewn across the floor, he elects to see it as a good thing.
He does immediately think that probably Scott has done some major fuck-up and is trying to kiss ass about it before breaking it to Wallace. What could be so bad to justify this is beyond him, though. Maybe he racked up some major credit card debt on Wallace’s credit card? Scott got his little job recently though, so he hasn’t been using his card, so it’s probably not that. Hm. Oh well!
“Aw, baby, you shouldn’t have,” he coos, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. It really is a wild display. If it wasn’t so cute he’d probably be more worried about the fire hazard of all the candles on their carpeted floor.
“Hey, wait!” Scott exclaims with such urgency that Wallace almost worries that he is starting a fire currently. But then Scott is grabbing him, stopping him from taking off his jacket, and he’s starting to think he’s a new kind of special idiot. Is Scott about to kick him out? Of course he is. Why would he do a candlelit dinner for Wallace? This is probably some set-up for the new girlfriend-of-the-year. Who that would be, Wallace doesn’t know, seeing as Scott’s been fucking glued to his side lately (not that he’s complaining…) but well, maybe he met a girl at work, or something or -
Before Wallace can panic too much, though, Scott is easing his jacket off him and cheerily saying, “Let me!” And then he’s also undoing his scarf, and he’s hanging both of those up and Wallace thinks he might be hallucinating. This is so weird. How much fucking money did Scott charge to Wallace’s credit card?!
Taking a deep breath in, though, he’s ready to roll with the punches. If he’s being buttered up to brace for the worst, well, call him a roast pig because he is ready for that butter. Or something. He’s glad he didn’t say that out loud, that was not his best witticism.
After his weird lil’ housewife at the door schtick, Scott’s walking toward the dining table - hey wait a second. “When the hell did we get a dining table?” he asks.
“Oh uh, I got it for today,” Scott explains. “Don’t look under the tablecloth, it’s just a plastic picnic table. It folds up though, so we can store it!” ‘Tablecloth’ is a generous way to describe the topsheet that Scott has covered the table with but, hey, he’s not complaining. Wallace goes ahead and takes a seat in one of the also-plastic lawn-chairs Scott has set up at the table, arm slung back over the flimsy chair back in what he likes to think is a handsome but cocky nonchalance.
“So, what’s on the menu tonight, chef?” Wallace asks. Scott is bustling in the kitchen, but it doesn’t seem like he’s cooking, just plating an already warm dinner. Wow, he really is being a sweet little househusband. Gonna have to file that one away for the spank bank later.
All things considered, it should be acknowledged that Wallace is really a quite mature man. If he encountered this scenario with Scott back when they were in college, he probably would’ve had a goddamn meltdown. Back then, his crush was so bad he was losing sleep over it, even his grades were suffering for it. All for some dumb straight boy that, for a while there, wouldn’t even give him the time of day. If you asked Wallace what it was about Scott that did him in so goddamn bad, he couldn’t even tell you, it was so stupid. He just loves him, and he loves him bad. But look at them now! Wallace has managed to solidly compartmentalize his feelings (not get over, mind you; just sequester them off with some very healthy boundaries), and he’s finessed Scott into somehow still being his little boytoy through it. Win-win, really.
“I made some spaghetti,” Scott says, placing the plates down on either side of the table like just the cutest little waiter. Wallace wonders if Scott’s dumb job will ever let him move up from dishwashing to food serving. Do they even do full service at that place? Ooh, maybe Scott could get a job at a diner with lil’ shorts and roller skates. Mmmm.
Back to reality, spaghetti. “On two plates? C’mon, Scotty, we could’ve lady-and-the-tramp’d it,” Wallace teases. You’d think he’d get tired of flirting with Scott, what with how pointless it is, but he doesn’t. For one thing, Scott gets so flustered about it, it’s funny. For another thing, it gives Wallace a way to air out his feelings a little. Let him have this.
“Dammit!” Scott curses under his breath, “Why didn’t I think of that?” It’s not too terribly rare for Scott to play along with the flirting, but right now he seems actually frustrated which is weird. Before Wallace can interrogate that too much, Scott is breaking out a couple of wine glasses and pouring them each a glass of wine (with an admittedly much heavier pour for Wallace).
“God, this is so hot,” Wallace says, watching Scott do his damned best to pour the wine. “You’re so hot.” Scott’s damned best is apparently not very good, as the neck of the bottle suddenly teeters and spills all over the topsheet tablecloth.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Scott curses. “I’m so sorry, fuck -”
“Hey, guy, chill,” Wallace says, reaching a hand out to cradle the small of Scott’s back (to comfort him, but also, for Wallace. Shut up). “We don’t even use top-sheets, this can just be the official wine tablecloth, it’s all good.”
Seemingly comforted by that, Scott takes a deep breath, and carries out the remaining waiter duties before finally sitting down to join Wallace (still wearing his dumb apron, god he’s so cute). They finally start slurping up their dinner. Scott might not spend too much time in their kitchen, but when he cooks, he really isn’t half-bad. Wallace will have to hype that up to Mrs. Pilgrim next time he sees her, get Scott some brownie points.
They eat for a while, but Scott looks like he’s getting antsy. His eyes keep darting to the counter and for the life of him Wallace cannot figure out what the hell he’s looking at. “You good?” he asks, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, uh,” Scott starts, but now he’s standing up and walking toward the kitchen. He seems to suddenly realize he’s still wearing the apron and tears it off (nice), to fully reveal his outfit of a nice button-up (Wallace’s) and some absolutely not-matching informal shorts (also Wallace’s). Wallace is fighting to keep the blood in the upper half of his body and is doing a, frankly, impressive job of it. But now Scott is pressing a button on their CD player, and gentle jazz music is radiating crunchily from the speakers. Scott reaches out a hand to Wallace, and says, “May I have this dance?”
Hoo boy, Scott must have really fucked up. But, sure, Wallace will revel in this some more. He grins at him, taking his hand as he says, “I thought you’d never ask.”
The kitchen is small, so there’s not much room to dance. And also, they aren’t dancing yet, anyway, just holding hands (which is nice, too). “I uh, only know how to dance with girls,” Scott stumbles. “Do you like to lead, or…?” Ugh, this should be illegal. Wallace thinks if he filmed a porn of this he could make some big money.
“Lucky for you, big guy,” Wallace says, guiding Scott’s hands to his waist, “I’m a switch.” Scott’s eyes widen to the size of some big hearty tomatoes, and his face is as red as one too, and Wallace is pretty pleased about that, he’s gotta be honest.
They sway for a bit, the jazz music almost too quiet to hear over the kitchen fan that Scott forgot to turn off, but Wallace can’t bring himself to bring it up. He’s eating up every moment of this, but he also thinks he might be flying dangerously close to the sun here. Yeah, normally flirting with Scott these days is fun, like a soothing balm to an old, stubborn wound, but if this keeps going on, he’s probably just gonna end up tearing it wide open.
Besides, as fun as this all is, Wallace is beginning to feel the pressure eating at him for what the hell Scott is trying to make up for. This is all too nice. Scott’s even been looking at him weird - he keeps stealing look after look at him, and then ducking his head again whenever Wallace makes eye contact.
“So,” he says, cocking his head to the side as he looks down at Scott. “What’s the damage?”
“Hm?” Scott hums, looking up at him with his big puppy-dog eyes.
“I mean, what’s all this about?” he says, gesturing, with a bump of his head at the whole… everything. God, there really are rose petals on every surface. Wallace needs to not think about it too much until Scott’s out of the house.
“I mean,” Scott starts. There’s still some spaghetti sauce on his cheek, and Wallace has to resist the urge to reach and wipe it off. “It’s, like, a date?”
“Yeah, it is ‘like a date,’” Wallace echoes, and now he’s starting to get a little annoyed, “but why?” But then, Scott’s pulling back from their dancing and leaning his back on the counter, face buried in his hands. He’s groaning very quietly, but slowly growing in volume.
“Hey, hey, guy, it’s okay,” Wallace tries to comfort, keeping his hands steady on Scott’s shoulders. “Whatever it is, I gotchu. What’s up?”
“Stop iiiiit,” Scott practically whines, muffled into his hands. “You’re confusing me!”
Now, that’s rich coming from the absolute most confusing guy on the fucking planet. But, Wallace keeps his cool and asks, “How am I confusing you?”
Dropping his hands from his face, Scott’s eyes are still closed as he says, “Look, I think you try to flirt with with me to let me down easy, but I’m not the smartest guy so you’re gonna have to be straight with me – or, not straight exactly but like, you know what I mean.”
Wallace’s brain is completely shutting down. Rather than letting go of Scott’s shoulders, he just digs his hands in even tighter. “Wh. What?” he asks. “What the hell is happening, Scott?”
“I mean, I keep trying to take you on dates, but then I get mixed messages, and I thought maybe I wasn’t being clear enough so I tried this,” he explains, gesturing to, everything, “but I’m still confused and,” and oh god he is sounding really upset actually, “if you’re gonna reject me, just, reject me, okay?”
“I–” Wallace absolutely cannot understand what he’s saying, it simply doesn’t compute. What the hell is happening. He doesn’t know how to process this other than that he needs more information. “When have you taken me on dates?” he demands, shaking Scott by the shoulders.
“T-the walk, a-and out to d-dinner, and m-movie niiight, and,” he tries to say despite the shaking, “I think that’s it? Maybe?”
“Scott,” Wallace says firmly, scolding, the only way he knows how right now, “You have to actually ask someone out for it to be a date.”
“I diiid!” Scott whines pathetically.
Wait a-
“Would you wanna go out, uh, with me?”
“Sure, guy. Where we goin’?”
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Wallace says, letting go of Scott’s shoulders and stepping back. He needs to keep his cool. He needs to. He is pacing around the kitchen, in search of some way to expel the five hundred thousand separate emotions rattling around inside his body.
“Are you mad at me?” Scott says and it’s the most pitiful thing in the world and he wants to cry and also punch him a little maybe.
“I’m not mad,” he insists, power-walking to the living room and grabbing a pillow from the bed, before promptly screaming into it at the top of lungs. And again. And one more time. Okay he’s better. He walks back over to Scott now. “I’m not mad, sorry. Just feeling a lot. But not mad.”
“Uhm, okay,” Scott says, clearly not understanding what’s happening. “You’re not mad at me, got it. But uh, are you? You know, rejecting me?” He flinches, like he’s bracing himself for impact.
“No,” Wallace barely manages to not yell, “No, Scott, oh my god, I am not rejecting you. No.” And he’s grabbing his upper arms now, shoving his forehead down onto Scott’s shoulder. “Oh my god this is so stupid.”
Scott still seems confused and overwhelmed (so that makes two of them), but he’s reaching his arms around Wallace now to hold him, so that’s a good sign.
“How long?” Wallace asks.
“Huh?”
“How long have you been, uh,” Jesus, how should he say it? Crushing on him? Courting him? What? “Pursuing me, romantically?”
“Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully. “I mean, I realized I was crushing two months ago I think? And the walk was a month ago so. That long, I guess.”
Wallace lets go of Scott’s arms to instead cover his mouth with them and again, scream.
“Wallace oh my god please stop screaming, you’re freaking me out,” Scott pleads, squeezing his grip on Wallace’s back.
Okay, that’s fair. He needs to relax. He needs to calm down. He needs to be a big boy about this. Gotta compartmentalize, he’s the king of this. Taking a deep inhale, he leans back, stands up straight, looks right at Scott and -
Fuck compartmentalizing.
He kisses Scott Pilgrim in probably the worst first kiss anyone’s ever had, his teeth crashing into him a little, hissing as he pulls back, “Shit, sorry, I–” but Scott’s grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back in, and now they’re properly making out against the counter. And there’s sparks, so many sparks. It feels like electricity is running all through Wallace’s veins, flickers of light scattering behind his eyelids. He pulls back, eyes wide, “Sparks are real?!”
Scott’s grinning at him, a beacon of bright light in their dingy little apartment. “You felt ‘em too?” he asks, and Wallace answers by just kissing him and kissing him and kissing him. The whole scene is so similar to so many of Wallace’s wet dreams that he’d think he were dreaming right now, if not for the fact that how stupid the whole set-up was could never have come from his imagination. He’s kissing Scott Pilgrim. He’s making out with Scott Pilgrim. He’s pushing Scott Pilgrim against their counter and he–
He pulls back for air, wanting to get a good look at him, at his sweet Scott. His eyes are blown-out and his lips are puckered, dear God, already trying to lean back in to kiss again.
“I’m not rejecting you,” Wallace says again, because he feels like he needs something to preface the bombshell he’s about to drop. “I’ve been in love with you for years, you idiot.”
“Hu-” Scott starts to ask, but Wallace is already kissing him again.
QUEST COMPLETED:
WINE & DINE WALLACE WELLS
LEVEL UP:
SCOTT GAINED THE POWER OF GAY LOVE!