Fic: Tron: Legacy; "Dinner and a Movie"
Title: Dinner and a Movie
Fandom: Tron: Legacy
Pairing: Sam/Tron
Rating: PG-13 (sexually suggestive material)
Word Count: 1616
Summary: Sam attempts to take Tron out on a "Typical User Date." Cue jealous waiters, cinema security, and Tron being unintentionally obscene.
A/N: Written per request by cruelest_month
"I think it's about time, you and I had a typical date like normal people."
Well, that was a bit different from the "Hello" or "Welcome back" he usually got when Sam brought Tron out from the Grid. Tron shifted his feet and looked around the familiar little basement room for some clues before asking. "What's a date?"
"A date is when two people with romantic/sexual interest in each other," Sam gestured between the two of them, "spend some time alone together in public."
Tron's brow furrowed. That did not quite calculate, but then most User traditions didn't.
"Specifically, in this case," Sam continued, coming forward at last and wrapping an arm around Tron's waist, "dinner at a moderately priced restaurant and then a movie."
"And in doing so we are further proving our affection and attraction for one another?"
"Er, yeah!"
"I do not require such proof."
Sam sighed. "Look. it's a thing User couples do all the time. It'll be nice and it'll fun. Okay?"
Tron shrugged. "Okay."
Dinner was at a little Italian bistro. Tron had had pizza before and enjoyed it, so Italian seemed like a safe bet. And the restaurant was indeed small enough that if Tron did anything...odd, it probably wouldn't land them in the celebrity gossip blogs.
For instance, the way Tron was fascinated by the lit candle in the center of the table. He kept hovering his fingers above it, pulling back and hissing in pain, rubbed is fingers together, and went back to playing with the flame. Sam finally grabbed his wrist and pulled it down to the table top. "You're going to blacken your fingers and leave smudges on everything you touch." Chastised, Tron slipped his hand free and clasped it in his right and kept them dutifully in his lap.
Sam floundered to come up with some kind of small talk. Yeah, now he remembered why he normally didn't actually do the dating thing. Tron, however, quickly came around to one of his favorite topics. "How is Alan One?"
They've been trying to teach Tron to drop the numeric, especially out of the Grid, but old habits and all. "Good! Still magically keeping me and the company from destroying each other. He, uh, suggested this place for us tonight, actually."
"Really?" Tron's eyes lit up and he looked around with sudden interest. It made jealousy niggle at Sam. But then, Tron would always revere Alan as his personal god. Sam had to learn and accept that boyfriends come second to those. Still, it'd be nice if Tron wasn't so obvious about it.
Sam ordered spaghetti for them both, and when it arrived he demonstrated how to wrap the pasta around a fork. He had taught Quorra, and she had taken abject delight in swirling the noodles around. Tron found it equally entertaining, but seemed to enjoy stabbing at meatballs even more.
As they continued eating, Sam was getting inappropriately distracted by Tron's happy "yummy" hums and the smear of red sauce clinging to the side of Tron's mouth. Sam reached over and swiped the sauce away. Tron grabbed Sam's hand and sucked the delicious sauce from Sam's thumb. Sam gasped, blushed and quickly pulled back. He looked around to see if anyone else caught the frankly obscene gesture. But the other diners were more focused on their own food and company, and Sam was just being paranoid.
Except their waiter had been on his way over to refill their waters, and must have seen the whole thing. The barely repressed scowl Sam had at first thought was disgust, but he soon recognized it for what it was: burning jealousy. Sam smirked smugly and winked at the waiter.
The waiter raised an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you'll be staying for dessert."
He said it like he was expecting Sam to reply with, "Nope, taking my hot piece of ass straight home and covering him in whipped cream and you're not invited. Neener neener."
Instead Sam said, "A couple cups of strawberry gelato would be nice."
The waiter sulked away.
"What's gelato?"
"It's ice cream, Tron."
"Oh! I like ice cream." It was one of the first things Quorra shoved at him at her little "Welcome to the User World" party she held for him. Turned out the program and the ISO shared a healthy sweet tooth. The waiter received a full hit of Tron's exuberant gratitude when he came back the dessert. The man nearly swooned when Tron turned on that megawatt smile and breathed out an excited "Thank you!" Sam snickered. Neener, neener, indeed.
"What movie are we seeing?" Tron had seen movies before, back at the apartment on Sam's TV. But at the theater it was "bigger, louder, and you're watching it with like a hundred other people," Sam had explained.
Sam shrugged and brought up the local movie listings on his phone. Tron liked martial arts films, but there weren't any playing. But there were always generic action movies to melt a few brain cells.
The moment the bought their tickets and entered the lobby, they were hit by the stale, salty smell of the concessions. "Popcorn!" Tron grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him in line.
Sam laughed. There was that, too. Even more than ice cream and sweets, Tron loved popcorn. It was one of those odd phenomenons of a User trait being imprinted on the program he created. In fact, the only time Sam had seen Tron look at Alan with anything other than awe and adoration was when Alan had taken popcorn from Tron's bowl. Tron had give his User a death glare the old programmer thankfully didn't notice.
They ordered the largest size, still they would probably be back for refills at least twice in the next two hours. The theater wasn't too crowded, and they took seats near the back. "Oh, here." Sam handed Tron a pair of 3D glasses.
Tron frowned at them. "I do not require corrective lenses."
"They're for the movie. It'll make it look like stuff's popping out of the screen."
"Objects coming out of the screen?" Tron looked a bit confused, incredulous, and worried.
"It'll just look like it. It's pretty cool if done right."
Tron unfolded the stems and slid the glasses on. He blinked up at the screen that was still cycling through ads. "Everything is just darker."
Sam couldn't help laughing. With his mouth in a stern, disappointed line and wearing those clunky glass, Tron looked just like Alan. The bit didn't far from the logic tree, huh? "Don't put them on until the screen says so."
They suffered through several tedious trailers, during which Tron had already eaten half their popcorn. The Real 3D logo came up and Sam nudged Tron to put his glasses on. He watched closely at Tron's expression as the ball on the screen suddenly flew out and appeared to be floating in mid-air. Tron gasped and reached out, trying to touch. Sam laughed. "It's not real, it's an optical illusion."
Tron lowered his hand. "How?"
"I dunno. Something about two cameras at once."
The movie was cliché as all hell: Explosions, car chases, the cop had to to turn in his badge after fighting with his boss. The 3D wasn't half-bad at least. Sam had definitely seen worse. He reached over for some popcorn only to discover the tub empty. He looked over at Tron. Eyes still glued to the screen, Tron was slowly sucking on each of his long fingers, licking away the last traces of butter and salt.
Sam's mouth went dry. The idea popped in his head to grab Tron, drag him to the men's room, find the furthest stall from the door and do things that would definitely get them arrested and featured on TMZ, and then Alan would kill them both. Sam made a strangled whimper in his throat. Tron glanced over then down where Sam's hand was still in tub.
"Oh! I'm sorry. I shall go and purchase- Sam!"
Tron had briefly looked back at the screen and was startled by the sight of a bad guy tossing a grenade, and it was coming right at them! Tron grabbed Sam and pulled him them both to the floor. Tron's body curled around Sam's in a protective embrace. Around them, people hissed, booed, and grumbled.
"Tron, get off! It isn't real!"
The hissing and grumbling increased. Two ushers with flashlights finally came over. One tried pulling at Tron's shoulder. "Come on boys, this is a family place. Leave the freaky stuff for home."
Tron was about to protest, but recognized authority when he saw it. Embarrassed, Tron unwound himself from Sam. Sam sat up with a groan, cringing at the way years-old, dried pop tried sticking to his leather jacket.
Unfortunately, as they were being escorted out, they pass by the concessions again. Tron stared longingly at the popcorn maker. "Couldn't we just?"
"No!" The burlier usher growled. Geeze, Sam's dealt with bouncers less intimidating than that guy.
Out in the parking lot, Sam straddled the Ducati and tossed Tron his helmet. Tron was pouting again. "Did I ruin our typical date?"
Sam sighed, leaning forward on the handlebars. "Nah. Just forgot how much going to the movies blow anyway."
"So, what happens next on a date?"
"Well.... Typically we go back to my place, I invite you up for coffee, then we have sex."
Tron perked up at that and eagerly joined Sam on the bike. "Only, I do not like coffee. Can we skip that part?"
Sam laughed and started the engine. "Sure, just as long as you never tell anyone I put out after a first date."
Fandom: Tron: Legacy
Pairing: Sam/Tron
Rating: PG-13 (sexually suggestive material)
Word Count: 1616
Summary: Sam attempts to take Tron out on a "Typical User Date." Cue jealous waiters, cinema security, and Tron being unintentionally obscene.
A/N: Written per request by cruelest_month
"I think it's about time, you and I had a typical date like normal people."
Well, that was a bit different from the "Hello" or "Welcome back" he usually got when Sam brought Tron out from the Grid. Tron shifted his feet and looked around the familiar little basement room for some clues before asking. "What's a date?"
"A date is when two people with romantic/sexual interest in each other," Sam gestured between the two of them, "spend some time alone together in public."
Tron's brow furrowed. That did not quite calculate, but then most User traditions didn't.
"Specifically, in this case," Sam continued, coming forward at last and wrapping an arm around Tron's waist, "dinner at a moderately priced restaurant and then a movie."
"And in doing so we are further proving our affection and attraction for one another?"
"Er, yeah!"
"I do not require such proof."
Sam sighed. "Look. it's a thing User couples do all the time. It'll be nice and it'll fun. Okay?"
Tron shrugged. "Okay."
Dinner was at a little Italian bistro. Tron had had pizza before and enjoyed it, so Italian seemed like a safe bet. And the restaurant was indeed small enough that if Tron did anything...odd, it probably wouldn't land them in the celebrity gossip blogs.
For instance, the way Tron was fascinated by the lit candle in the center of the table. He kept hovering his fingers above it, pulling back and hissing in pain, rubbed is fingers together, and went back to playing with the flame. Sam finally grabbed his wrist and pulled it down to the table top. "You're going to blacken your fingers and leave smudges on everything you touch." Chastised, Tron slipped his hand free and clasped it in his right and kept them dutifully in his lap.
Sam floundered to come up with some kind of small talk. Yeah, now he remembered why he normally didn't actually do the dating thing. Tron, however, quickly came around to one of his favorite topics. "How is Alan One?"
They've been trying to teach Tron to drop the numeric, especially out of the Grid, but old habits and all. "Good! Still magically keeping me and the company from destroying each other. He, uh, suggested this place for us tonight, actually."
"Really?" Tron's eyes lit up and he looked around with sudden interest. It made jealousy niggle at Sam. But then, Tron would always revere Alan as his personal god. Sam had to learn and accept that boyfriends come second to those. Still, it'd be nice if Tron wasn't so obvious about it.
Sam ordered spaghetti for them both, and when it arrived he demonstrated how to wrap the pasta around a fork. He had taught Quorra, and she had taken abject delight in swirling the noodles around. Tron found it equally entertaining, but seemed to enjoy stabbing at meatballs even more.
As they continued eating, Sam was getting inappropriately distracted by Tron's happy "yummy" hums and the smear of red sauce clinging to the side of Tron's mouth. Sam reached over and swiped the sauce away. Tron grabbed Sam's hand and sucked the delicious sauce from Sam's thumb. Sam gasped, blushed and quickly pulled back. He looked around to see if anyone else caught the frankly obscene gesture. But the other diners were more focused on their own food and company, and Sam was just being paranoid.
Except their waiter had been on his way over to refill their waters, and must have seen the whole thing. The barely repressed scowl Sam had at first thought was disgust, but he soon recognized it for what it was: burning jealousy. Sam smirked smugly and winked at the waiter.
The waiter raised an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you'll be staying for dessert."
He said it like he was expecting Sam to reply with, "Nope, taking my hot piece of ass straight home and covering him in whipped cream and you're not invited. Neener neener."
Instead Sam said, "A couple cups of strawberry gelato would be nice."
The waiter sulked away.
"What's gelato?"
"It's ice cream, Tron."
"Oh! I like ice cream." It was one of the first things Quorra shoved at him at her little "Welcome to the User World" party she held for him. Turned out the program and the ISO shared a healthy sweet tooth. The waiter received a full hit of Tron's exuberant gratitude when he came back the dessert. The man nearly swooned when Tron turned on that megawatt smile and breathed out an excited "Thank you!" Sam snickered. Neener, neener, indeed.
"What movie are we seeing?" Tron had seen movies before, back at the apartment on Sam's TV. But at the theater it was "bigger, louder, and you're watching it with like a hundred other people," Sam had explained.
Sam shrugged and brought up the local movie listings on his phone. Tron liked martial arts films, but there weren't any playing. But there were always generic action movies to melt a few brain cells.
The moment the bought their tickets and entered the lobby, they were hit by the stale, salty smell of the concessions. "Popcorn!" Tron grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him in line.
Sam laughed. There was that, too. Even more than ice cream and sweets, Tron loved popcorn. It was one of those odd phenomenons of a User trait being imprinted on the program he created. In fact, the only time Sam had seen Tron look at Alan with anything other than awe and adoration was when Alan had taken popcorn from Tron's bowl. Tron had give his User a death glare the old programmer thankfully didn't notice.
They ordered the largest size, still they would probably be back for refills at least twice in the next two hours. The theater wasn't too crowded, and they took seats near the back. "Oh, here." Sam handed Tron a pair of 3D glasses.
Tron frowned at them. "I do not require corrective lenses."
"They're for the movie. It'll make it look like stuff's popping out of the screen."
"Objects coming out of the screen?" Tron looked a bit confused, incredulous, and worried.
"It'll just look like it. It's pretty cool if done right."
Tron unfolded the stems and slid the glasses on. He blinked up at the screen that was still cycling through ads. "Everything is just darker."
Sam couldn't help laughing. With his mouth in a stern, disappointed line and wearing those clunky glass, Tron looked just like Alan. The bit didn't far from the logic tree, huh? "Don't put them on until the screen says so."
They suffered through several tedious trailers, during which Tron had already eaten half their popcorn. The Real 3D logo came up and Sam nudged Tron to put his glasses on. He watched closely at Tron's expression as the ball on the screen suddenly flew out and appeared to be floating in mid-air. Tron gasped and reached out, trying to touch. Sam laughed. "It's not real, it's an optical illusion."
Tron lowered his hand. "How?"
"I dunno. Something about two cameras at once."
The movie was cliché as all hell: Explosions, car chases, the cop had to to turn in his badge after fighting with his boss. The 3D wasn't half-bad at least. Sam had definitely seen worse. He reached over for some popcorn only to discover the tub empty. He looked over at Tron. Eyes still glued to the screen, Tron was slowly sucking on each of his long fingers, licking away the last traces of butter and salt.
Sam's mouth went dry. The idea popped in his head to grab Tron, drag him to the men's room, find the furthest stall from the door and do things that would definitely get them arrested and featured on TMZ, and then Alan would kill them both. Sam made a strangled whimper in his throat. Tron glanced over then down where Sam's hand was still in tub.
"Oh! I'm sorry. I shall go and purchase- Sam!"
Tron had briefly looked back at the screen and was startled by the sight of a bad guy tossing a grenade, and it was coming right at them! Tron grabbed Sam and pulled him them both to the floor. Tron's body curled around Sam's in a protective embrace. Around them, people hissed, booed, and grumbled.
"Tron, get off! It isn't real!"
The hissing and grumbling increased. Two ushers with flashlights finally came over. One tried pulling at Tron's shoulder. "Come on boys, this is a family place. Leave the freaky stuff for home."
Tron was about to protest, but recognized authority when he saw it. Embarrassed, Tron unwound himself from Sam. Sam sat up with a groan, cringing at the way years-old, dried pop tried sticking to his leather jacket.
Unfortunately, as they were being escorted out, they pass by the concessions again. Tron stared longingly at the popcorn maker. "Couldn't we just?"
"No!" The burlier usher growled. Geeze, Sam's dealt with bouncers less intimidating than that guy.
Out in the parking lot, Sam straddled the Ducati and tossed Tron his helmet. Tron was pouting again. "Did I ruin our typical date?"
Sam sighed, leaning forward on the handlebars. "Nah. Just forgot how much going to the movies blow anyway."
"So, what happens next on a date?"
"Well.... Typically we go back to my place, I invite you up for coffee, then we have sex."
Tron perked up at that and eagerly joined Sam on the bike. "Only, I do not like coffee. Can we skip that part?"
Sam laughed and started the engine. "Sure, just as long as you never tell anyone I put out after a first date."