Peter Pan Couldn't Have Said It Better
Title: Peter Pan Couldn't Have Said It Better
’Verse/characters: Lap Dog- Blair/Joel
Prompt: 073: Birthday.
Word Count: 803
Rating: PG
Notes: Post-LD. They do tend to get thrown out of places. And for some reason -likely solely because of The Matrix- they actually like Keanu Reeves. =/
"You're going to get us kicked out."
"You're not helping. Besides, this movie sucks. If we get kicked out, that'll be worth maybe half what we paid."
"Joel..."
Joel didn't bother to glance at him, and instead concentrated on aiming popcorn at one actor's ear. "Aw, man, I missed."
"Joel!"
Joel finally looked over at Blair, grinning innocently. "It's my twenty-ninth birthday, and therefore my last non-thirty year, and I can do what I want to."
Blair rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the irritated voices around him as Joel fired another handful of popcorn at the screen. Of course it rarely made it, and usually ended up just hitting some poor person, but Joel had to try anyway. "Why do any of your birthdays matter if you still act sixteen every year?"
"Dude. You came in with the laser."
"Joel, I come armed with a laser to every movie in case it sucks."
"So do I, and I'm sorry, Blair, but this time, a laser pointer was just not enough!"
"Throwing popcorn at the screen is taking it a little-"
"Fuck, I hate this guy. And his hair."
"Why did we come to see this, anyway?" Blair asked finally, leaning back and sighing.
"Because Keanu Reeves is in it."
Blair considered this, peering at the screen. "And why hasn't he shown up yet?" God, this movie was dumb. At this point, not even Keanu Reeves could save it.
"Because we're only thirty minutes into it-"
"Sirs?" The usher suddenly shining a much too bright flashlight in their faces cut Joel off. As an understatement, he looked angry. "I was expecting ten-year-old boys."
Blair rolled his eyes. "You're about twenty years off, sorry." He turned to Joel. "I told you you'd get us kicked out."
"It's okay, considering it's such a god-awful movie."
By now they were attracting not only complaints, but shouts.
"Oh, shut the fuck up, you can't be that interested in the movie!" Blair snapped at a particularly indignant woman.
"Sirs, I really am going to have to escort you out of the theatre," the usher said impatiently. "You're being quite rude."
"Mm, maybe, but at least we weren't, like, having sex or something, like that one time at this other theatre," Joel said as the usher took them by the arms, probably exactly as he would've a couple of ten-year-old boys.
"True. All Joel did was throw popcorn," Blair agreed.
"And all Blair did was direct a laser at Ugly Haired Actor Number Three," Joel shot back.
"I don't care what you did. You showed no decorum, you both apparently suffer from Peter Pan syndrome," the usher spat, "and you just ruined a lot of people's days." He was dragging them through the lobby angrily now, which Blair found hilarious. This guy was actually worse than the manager of the other theatre.
Joel jerked his arm away from the usher just before they reached the exit. He looked a little cross with the usher, mainly because he was probably going to have a bruise on his arm, and partly because he liked the usher's hair about as much as he liked Ugly Haired Actor Number Three's hair. "Dude. First off, no one in the real world uses a word like 'decorum'. Second, it's my last birthday before I turn thirty, and I can throw whatever the hell I want to at really fucking bad movies. And third, if I did have Peter Pan syndrome, I don't think I'd be suffering from it."
Blair watched Joel's exchange with the usher with mild amusement.
"And although we may not have had really hot exhibitionist sex in the theatre, we are still going to have really great sex later, which is probably more than you could ever possibly hope for, considering your hairstyle," Joel added, looking distastefully at the usher.
The usher was silent for a long moment, looking at Blair and Joel in turn.
And then they were abruptly, and somewhat literally, thrown out.
Blair looked at Joel as they stood up, brushing the dust from their clothes. "We're never going to be allowed in there again, are we?"
"No." Joel shrugged. "I'm not bothered by it."
"Neither am I. So, what next?"
"I dunno. I was being serious about the really great sex, if that helps."
"I had hoped so."
They started down the steps and into the parking lot. The sunlight was shocking after the theatre, particularly given that Blair had very little pigmentation in his skin, and was fairly eye-burning in summer.
"I can't believe we just got kicked out of another theatre," Blair said as they searched for the car.
"Yeah, well..." Joel spotted the car then and started walking a little more quickly. "Personally?"
"Yeah?"
"I can't believe he didn't tell me happy birthday."
"Whatever, Joel."
’Verse/characters: Lap Dog- Blair/Joel
Prompt: 073: Birthday.
Word Count: 803
Rating: PG
Notes: Post-LD. They do tend to get thrown out of places. And for some reason -likely solely because of The Matrix- they actually like Keanu Reeves. =/
"You're going to get us kicked out."
"You're not helping. Besides, this movie sucks. If we get kicked out, that'll be worth maybe half what we paid."
"Joel..."
Joel didn't bother to glance at him, and instead concentrated on aiming popcorn at one actor's ear. "Aw, man, I missed."
"Joel!"
Joel finally looked over at Blair, grinning innocently. "It's my twenty-ninth birthday, and therefore my last non-thirty year, and I can do what I want to."
Blair rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the irritated voices around him as Joel fired another handful of popcorn at the screen. Of course it rarely made it, and usually ended up just hitting some poor person, but Joel had to try anyway. "Why do any of your birthdays matter if you still act sixteen every year?"
"Dude. You came in with the laser."
"Joel, I come armed with a laser to every movie in case it sucks."
"So do I, and I'm sorry, Blair, but this time, a laser pointer was just not enough!"
"Throwing popcorn at the screen is taking it a little-"
"Fuck, I hate this guy. And his hair."
"Why did we come to see this, anyway?" Blair asked finally, leaning back and sighing.
"Because Keanu Reeves is in it."
Blair considered this, peering at the screen. "And why hasn't he shown up yet?" God, this movie was dumb. At this point, not even Keanu Reeves could save it.
"Because we're only thirty minutes into it-"
"Sirs?" The usher suddenly shining a much too bright flashlight in their faces cut Joel off. As an understatement, he looked angry. "I was expecting ten-year-old boys."
Blair rolled his eyes. "You're about twenty years off, sorry." He turned to Joel. "I told you you'd get us kicked out."
"It's okay, considering it's such a god-awful movie."
By now they were attracting not only complaints, but shouts.
"Oh, shut the fuck up, you can't be that interested in the movie!" Blair snapped at a particularly indignant woman.
"Sirs, I really am going to have to escort you out of the theatre," the usher said impatiently. "You're being quite rude."
"Mm, maybe, but at least we weren't, like, having sex or something, like that one time at this other theatre," Joel said as the usher took them by the arms, probably exactly as he would've a couple of ten-year-old boys.
"True. All Joel did was throw popcorn," Blair agreed.
"And all Blair did was direct a laser at Ugly Haired Actor Number Three," Joel shot back.
"I don't care what you did. You showed no decorum, you both apparently suffer from Peter Pan syndrome," the usher spat, "and you just ruined a lot of people's days." He was dragging them through the lobby angrily now, which Blair found hilarious. This guy was actually worse than the manager of the other theatre.
Joel jerked his arm away from the usher just before they reached the exit. He looked a little cross with the usher, mainly because he was probably going to have a bruise on his arm, and partly because he liked the usher's hair about as much as he liked Ugly Haired Actor Number Three's hair. "Dude. First off, no one in the real world uses a word like 'decorum'. Second, it's my last birthday before I turn thirty, and I can throw whatever the hell I want to at really fucking bad movies. And third, if I did have Peter Pan syndrome, I don't think I'd be suffering from it."
Blair watched Joel's exchange with the usher with mild amusement.
"And although we may not have had really hot exhibitionist sex in the theatre, we are still going to have really great sex later, which is probably more than you could ever possibly hope for, considering your hairstyle," Joel added, looking distastefully at the usher.
The usher was silent for a long moment, looking at Blair and Joel in turn.
And then they were abruptly, and somewhat literally, thrown out.
Blair looked at Joel as they stood up, brushing the dust from their clothes. "We're never going to be allowed in there again, are we?"
"No." Joel shrugged. "I'm not bothered by it."
"Neither am I. So, what next?"
"I dunno. I was being serious about the really great sex, if that helps."
"I had hoped so."
They started down the steps and into the parking lot. The sunlight was shocking after the theatre, particularly given that Blair had very little pigmentation in his skin, and was fairly eye-burning in summer.
"I can't believe we just got kicked out of another theatre," Blair said as they searched for the car.
"Yeah, well..." Joel spotted the car then and started walking a little more quickly. "Personally?"
"Yeah?"
"I can't believe he didn't tell me happy birthday."
"Whatever, Joel."