He SHOOTS, he — he — !! MISSES.
Press X to Try AGAIN, ( loser ! )
Though Wallace’s tone is civil enough, Stephen’s pretty sure his friend’s roommate must have already answered all these questions from Scott. And if Scott was anything like he was with everyone else as he was Wallace, then he’d probably already asked him many times. Digits find a single strand, a white worm of thread sticking it’s angry little head out on the cuff off his jeans. The guitarist decides to tug a little, coaxing the little creature’s body just to grow as he’s listening to the dark haired man speak.
really liked the third thing—-
The ego’s capsules had been running low of late. With everything going on with the band, with the album, with Julie, with Joseph. Those tiny little containers had been very fragile, and dangerously empty. But as cheeks flushed pink under the grizzle of auburn beard, a little green heart sparks its way above his head. He grasps for it quickly, feverish hands bashful as it glows it’s little jade hue across the space of the shoebox of a room. How EMBARRASSING.
It had been so long since Stephen had been complimented that he’d quite forgotten what the whole procedure was meant to be. With a cough, as if that would cover up the awkwardness of it all, he smuggles the offending item into his jacket pocket, bashful smile forcing eyes closed tight.
“Oh! Uhh.. Gasoline Eyes! Yeah, that’s a new one.”
Stephen manages to get his words out, but leaves a pit of emptiness in their wake.
And now it’s quiet again. And he looks back at his trousers.
The sound of the shower continues it’s dreary and painfully long soundtrack, accompanied by what sounds like the gargled humming or singing of Scott, with its broken melody intruding into the panel .
A glance back to Wallace and he’s reading the newspaper again. Why was it so uncomfortable here? Surprisingly it wasn’t the fact he was sat on Wallace and Scott’s bed– god knows what had happened in this or on this mattress.
( Nope !! Not something he wants to flashback to.) Was it Stephen? Was it Wallace? Why? Wallace had never made him uncomfortable before. He didn’t now. Did he?
Another glance back over. Say something else. Stephen tries to whistle,
but he manages two notes before he feels Wallace’s eyes back on him.
He meets the look with another smile.
“Anything…. good in the paper?
Oh– anything about Envy’s solo thing?”
( ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED : 💚 — STEPHEN STILLS. ) the snort that follows from behind his paper is near - silent, but wallace can’t fight the smug grin that spreads across his face. pressing into the margins, a thought bubble : { WALLACE WELLS PRO - TIP: flattery. it’ll get you everywhere! } though wallace watches all of stephen’s exploits play out before him — relationship meter probably LEVELING - UP as he speaks — at the very least, there’s no condescension in his gaze. nothing but amusement, really. maybe even fondness. was that too much?
far more a people - person than most of his friends ... well. than most of the friends kept in scott’s company — meaning wallace’s company — it isn’t difficult for wallace to pick up on the way his simple compliment left the guitarist flustered.
+ 1 self - esteem! + 1 ego - boost! + 1 friendship!
( plus one friendship, RIGHT? )
‘ yeah, i feel like i would’ve remembered if i’d heard it before. it’s a good one. ’ he’s not one to lie — at least, not without a really good reason to. scott needing to escape from their apartment, envy calling to speak to either of them, stacey asking where he got his latest gossip from — and he has no real reason to now. HUH. maybe sex bob - omb was beginning to grown on him after all. ( he’ll place that on scott’s constant influence on his life. better than admitting he’s going a little soft. booooo. ) *
they settle back into silence, what wallace feels, for a moment, is comfortable. WRONG. there’s some kind of tension in the room — only made worse by the muffled shower behind the door. was there a mute button somewhere that wallace could press? there sound of newspaper crinkling as wallace turns the page is, at first, the only other sound to combat water running. it’s nice. very ... ASMR.
stephen’s question grabs his attention, eyebrow quirked behind recycled, ink - splattered pages. though he’s barely visible yet, he shakes his head pointedly in response.
‘ we don’t use her name here, ’ no, scott’s not even in the room to hear it, but some kind of loyalty to him still provokes the quick - fire response. he softens quick enough, though, before he thumbs back through the pages. ‘ uh ... let’s see. something about horses ... advice column ... hockey updates ... uhhh ... here she is. ’ a page is pulled from the center of the paper, folded over neatly, before he stretches his arm out to stephen. ‘ haven’t read it yet. almost forgot she was back in town. ’
* for those trying to keep up at home : wallace absolutely is going soft.
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