I Would Sleep Better On Your Floor (Wescorn)
Smosh Writing Week 2019 // Day Two: High School AU
Wes and Lasercorn have a movie night at home for their first “official” date.
HA I actually got it done before midnight this time,
Also, this is teenage disasters, because for all the neglect I’ve given it that au will always be my baby
(also big thanks to @platinumbered for beta’ing this for me!)
“How many times are you gonna change your mind?”
Lasercorn looked up from the stack of DVDs he was sorting through. Wes watched him absentmindedly from the couch, sprawled out, chin resting on one hand which was propped up on the armrest. Lasercorn glared at him.
“This is an extremely important decision,” he said, turning back to the plastic cases. “And I will take however long I need.”
“Just pick a movie!” Wes gestured to the wall clock. “It’s been ten minutes, Lasercorn.”
It had been Lasercorn’s idea in the first place. He had waltzed up to Wes’s desk at homeroom that morning with the air of a man on a mission. He’d slammed his hand onto the ambiguous plastic material that the school desks are made out of- Wes had always wondered what it was, actually- and declared that the two would have their first official date that night. The emphasis on non-negotiability in his tone suggested that he may have thought Wes would try to object, but the taller boy had been ecstatic.
The two had hung out plenty of times, obviously, having been friends for more than a year. But it had always been in groups, or occasionally, a simple, on-the-spot late-night hangout at Wes’s house or some fast food place, when Lasercorn needed to get out for a while and Wes’s parents weren’t home. It wasn’t like this was a particularly grand endeavor, just a movie night at Wes’s house. But this was a real date, it was a thing, and that was exciting.
It would be slightly more exciting, in Wes’s opinion, if Lasercorn would just choose a damn movie already.
“There’s a lot of options!” Lasercorn defended. He threw another DVD off the stack, which fell back into the plastic container with the others. An assortment of old and new titles, action or comedy and the occasional rom-com that Wes managed to spot before Lasercorn hurriedly shoved it beneath the others.
“I’m fine with anything,” Wes sighed. “You’re taking forever.”
Lasercorn glanced up again just to stick his tongue out.
“Baby,” Wes grumbled. Lasercorn went back to his pile.
“Just because you said that I’m gonna go through the whole box again.”
Wes threw his head back and groaned while Lasercorn giggled from across the room.
After what Wes insisted was about ten thousand years, Lasercorn did actually pick a movie. Some action-comedy thing. True to his word, Wes didn’t really care that much. He was just glad to finally be on the couch, next to Lasercorn. Lasercorn, however, seemed rather stiff. And not in a good way.
“So, do want a soda or something?” he asked about two minutes into the movie.
“No, I’m okay,” Wes told him, watching the generic protagonist steal a car. Lasercorn nodded and turned back to the screen.
“...Should I make popcorn?” he asked again, five minutes into the movie.
“I’m fine,” Wes repeated, trying to figure out if the protagonist was actually wearing different shoes than he had been two scenes ago or not. Lasercorn nodded.
“...Should I-”
Wes interrupted Lasercorn this time by picking up the remote and pausing the movie.
“Are you okay?” he asked, turning to the orange-haired boy with only slight exasperation. Lasercorn looked like a deer caught in headlights, big brown eyes wide and defensive.
“What? Of course I am!” he scoffed unconvincingly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Wes furrowed his brow slightly, before lighting up in realization.
“...You’re nervous!”
Lasercorn gawked at him in offense.
“I am not nervous!” he gripped the upholstery of the couch with tight knuckles. “I am- I’m the opposite of nervous. I’m-”
“You’re so nervous!” Wes laughed at Lasercorn’s flushed cheeks, “Oh, that’s adorable!”
“YOU’RE adorable! Wait, shit-”
If Wes was one thing, it was earnest. Lasercorn had spent a substantial amount of time with the boy over the past year. He knew that Wes was short-tempered but kind, distracted but intelligent, anxious and shy and yet incapable of hiding his many eccentricities, no matter how hard he tried. And he was almost always honest, liable to say any thought that crossed his mind and not afraid to be blunt in his observations.
Most of the time, Lasercorn liked that about him. Right now? Not really.
“What are you worked up about?” Wes asked when he caught his breath.
Lasercorn crossed his arms and sat back against the opposite armrest. He knew he probably looked like a pouting child, but he didn’t care.
“I just… I don’t know how to do, uh… this. Like, date things.”
“You don’t know how to have a date?” Wes quirked an eyebrow.
Lasercorn huffed, “Yeah, I don’t! I haven’t done a lot, so…”
The truth was, Lasercorn had been agonizing over tonight for a week. He hadn’t even decided he was up to it until this morning when he’d forced himself on a whim to ask Wes out. He’d never been one for traditional romance, but Wes seemed the type, and since they were kind of official now, he figured that it made sense to do official things. And dates were one of those things which were typically expected of couples, so he knew that was probably a good first step. The problem was, he didn’t think he’d ever had a ‘proper’ date.
He’d thought up about a thousand ideas through the days and nights. Dinner? Too fancy, and he didn’t have much in terms of dress clothes or money. A walk in the park? Fuck that, it was summer and humid and the park would be full of mosquitoes. Coffee? Neither of them got up much before noon these days, so that was a no-go too. A movie night hadn’t been his first choice, but it seemed like the only one they could manage for the moment, and on such short notice. But with Wes actually there, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing something wrong.
“I haven’t been on many dates either,” Wes shrugged. “But I don’t think dates are something you can be good at. Like, I don’t think it’s a competition.”
“That’s quitter talk,” Lasercorn told him, not missing a beat.
Wes sighed. Then he leaned in and kissed him. Quick, gentle, more of a punctuation than a statement. Lasercorn tasted the remnants of candy on his lips and had to stop himself from pushing himself forward for more. When Wes pulled away, he was smiling.
“Then what if I said that I think you’re doing great so far, and we both shut up and watch the movie?”
“...Sounds good.”
By the time the movie ended, neither of them were actually watching it. Neither of them even stopped to pause it when the credits rolled.
Wes was laid out on the couch, and Lasercorn was on top of him. He leaned his weight into the nook between Wes’s body and the couch back to avoid suffocating him. Their legs tangled together, certain to fall asleep, neither of them caring enough to find a solution. Lasercorn could feel Wes’s fingers absentmindedly tracing the pattern on the back of his hoodie, never still, a gentle pressure moving along his spine.
It was raining outside, and Lasercorn stared out the window, watching the water stream down from the ends of the awning and roll off the tree leaves in the backyard. The soft drumming filled the empty space around them, so neither of them had to waste their breath. Instead, he focused on the feeling of Wes beneath him.
The rise and fall of his chest, the warmth radiating from his body, the smell of his hair. Lasercorn wished he could take in every detail clear like a photo, to hang up above his bed with the polaroids, to hang onto forever and take down when he was lonely. It was the most content he’d ever seen the anxious boy beneath him, and he wished he could summon that peace at will. He supposed that a night spent breathing each other’s air would have to suffice.
“So,” he said softly, “Date success?”
He only received soft snores in response, and suddenly noticed that the motion on his back had stopped. Breathing out a laugh to himself, Lasercorn turned back to the window. He stayed like that, watching the rain and listening to Wes’s breathing, until they were both asleep, illuminated only by the dim light of the TV.
