Movie Night VII: The Spinoff

[unrecovered]

Who| Wash and anyone who cares to join
What| Movie Night!
Where| The usual lounge
When| After Resistance Is Futile/An Eye For an Eye and the subsequent food fight
Warnings/Notes| None?

There's something to be said for a return to normality, though they're not really there yet. The food fight was a good way to decompress; now it's time to trot out the usual tradition of snacks and old cinema.

Chairs are arranged, blankets laid out, and the usual line of tables is piled high with standard movie snacks and drinks, though they're far less carefully arranged than usual. There are blank tables next to the spread, for those who wish to bring snacks to share. The usual poster is outside the door, with a summary of the movie, its MPAA rating, and the customary Movie night is neutral territory note. New this time is a handwritten note next to the summary that reads It's parody. It's supposed to be weird.

The movie tonight is Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Comments

[goddamngrenades]

"...Inside joke, won't happen again." that's definitely a no. If Babe was a no? That was a hell no. And he's not one that tries to make shit uncomfortable. "I don't think I can get away with calling you 'baby' like. Ever."

[agnominal]

"You could call me 'Locus'." Stated as though it were some brand new concept he'd yet to consider, even as the flatness of his tone gave it that familiar shade of sarcasm.

The need to give things nicknames is not an unfamiliar impulse in his companions, but this is quickly turning absurd.

[goddamngrenades]

"I do already. This is...finding something that I only get to call you." He shrugs, tipping his head against Locus' shoulder. "It's just stupid couple shit, I guess."

In reaching for normalcy he does get a little ridiculous. Names work, don't they? They do.

[agnominal]

"Ah."

Well. If York says that it's 'couple shit', then maybe it's just one of those things he has to learn to accept. All things uncomfortable are not necessarily bad.

There's still a considerable pause. "Does it have to be embarrassing?"

[goddamngrenades]

"It's not meant to be." A beat. "Usually. I've had some exes that delighted in making me squirm."

Not quite like Locus did but they're gonna glance right over that in favor of him snagging a bite of popcorn. "You don't have to come up with something for me. It's cool."

[agnominal]

"Names are not something that come easily to me. You don't want to know how long it took to name Luna," he replies with a faint huff of breath, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards ever so slightly.

Something only York could call him.

...nope. Coming up blank.

[goddamngrenades]

"As long as it's not a variant of 'Sweetcheeks' or 'honey-dick', I'm good." That probably bears some explanation. "College exes weren't the most creative- or at least they were creative in weird ways."

[agnominal]

"The furthest possibilities in my mind."

He's never been that crass, for one thing. Never that sentimental, for another. Some variety of the two seems to be the common theme in most he's heard, or else something diminutive in some way. None seem to suit, as he thinks of them.

"I suppose if that is the worst we have to worry about..."

[goddamngrenades]

"Mundane couple shit." He lifts his hands to wiggle his finger in a vague 'tah-dah' gesture. "Kinda nice after trying to figure out how to save the world, yeah?"

The details of their evolving relationship; the shit they figure out together to get comfortable. "Novio? Amoro."

[agnominal]

"Less stressful."

Less to worry about than shooting at their friends or zombie hordes, or nightmares of dead partners, or any number of things they'd already encountered. A struggle without being any real hardship.

"Hn. Better, perhaps."

[goddamngrenades]

"Chico, bonito, Lobo-" The last one, now, that fits. He rolls it around in his head for a moment before peering up at Locus, brows lifted.

"Mi Lobo." His Locus. His wolf.

[agnominal]

That one? Gets him to suddenly look askance across the room, in a gesture that ought to be very familiar to York by now. Clearing his throat, he shifts against the couch before shrugging his shoulders.

"If that pleases you."

He still has nothing for him, but pet names aren't something he thinks he'll be any good with any time soon.

[goddamngrenades]

Now that- that has him smiling faintly, enough to nudge Locus and murmur (quietly so no one else has to hear it) "I think it does, Mi Lobo."

There will never not be something stupidly precious about big ol hardass Locus not quite blushing. Ever.