Chapter Text
Collecting Dust. That's all Scott Pilgrim did these days. If he had to, Scott would probably say it's all anyone does these days, but that wouldn't be quite true on his behalf. A set of keys swung at Scott as he was spending his hourly period of brooding in bed, striking him squarely in the back of the head. The only sound from the lump of blankets and orange hair on the bed was a muffled 'ow' and a mumble jumble of words that only microscopic critters could hear.
"Well, Scott, someone's excited to see me," Wallace announced, plopping himself into the chair just right in the back center of the room, pulling out a newspaper to read till his roommate decided to acknowledge his existence. It seemed like forever till the clock hanging just above the kitchen counter ticked to the next hour. Wallace couldn't help but think to himself whether the myth that during wintertime everything feels slower was true. Surely not, after all, Toronto felt like the depths of Antarctica year-round. The rays of the sun suddenly spilt through the crack just below the door to the apartment. Wallace's pupil curomed to the edge of his eye as Scott withdrew from the covers like a possum emerging from a cave twenty times its size. Sure, the futon wasn't the best he could get, but with how curled up Scott was, the bed looked like a king size. Scott ran his fingertips over the edge of the pillow as he sat up with a messy look to his hair.
"Wow Scott, you look hot when your hair's messy." Wallace snickered, turning his attention to Scott.
"Ramona used to call me hot..." Scott muttered as he burrowed his face into his arms.
"Sure she did, buddy..." Wallace turned back to the newspaper sitting between his hands, taking a quick lick of his finger in order to turn the page. As Wallace's eyes scanned the page, he noticed an ad emphasizing a new sushi place opening up just a few blocks down. "You'd think they'd have enough sushi places down here, hm? Do you want to go out sometime?" Scott leans over, his eyes squinting at Wallace, eye bags dragging them down to the floor. It felt like a strange sense of déjà vu washing over him.
"You suck." Scott grumbled from the futon.
"Scott, I'm not sure if me paying for your dinner exactly makes me suck. Quite the opposite." Wallace situates the newspaper down on the arm of the chair. With a huff, Wallace stood on the blue outer ring of the rug as he snapped for Scott to get up.
"Just drag me out of the bed by my hand."
"How about I hold your-"
"NO." With the energy of an uncoiling spring, Scott sprang to his feet, grabbed a coat, and hurried outside, Wallace trailing closely behind.
"You know," Scott took a second between what he was saying to count the numbers on his fingers, "I think if I had a nickel for every time we went to a sushi restaurant, I think I'd have tw—"
"Scott, I promise you, you would have lots more than two." Wallace held up his hands, each finger popping up in a matter of seconds. "Yeah, more than I can count on my fingers." A quick draft of wind blew each small strand of Scott's hair across his face, causing the almost bareless limbs of the trees surrounding them to shake.
"Ppft, pfft," Scott brushed his hair with his hands out of his face. "Ok. Well, I promise you I can count; it was just a mishap!" Scott shut his eyes tight with playful frustration. Wallace subconsciously ran his fingers through his own hair, brushing it out the way almost completely parallel to Scott. Some of the last bits of the setting sun sending rays of light across Wallace's hair, casting a small shine on him. The different waves of blue and silver ran through his hair with the setting sun, mesmerizing Scott like a hypnosis spiral.
"Mishap or not, you still needed me to count for you."
“I went to college I think I know how to count.”
“Yet you still live with me, tough.” Wallace glanced over at Scott, who was now looking at the ground in defeat, but a poorly hidden snicker managed to escape him, “Well, looks like we’re here.” Wallace gestures his hands to the sushi restaurant sitting tucked in the corner of a few other buildings. Through the slightly frosted windows, they could see conveyor belts of sushi traveling through the restaurant like a train through the city. Scotts eyes were full of stars as he looked out into the building. Wallace had seemingly already walked in without him.
What- how did he go in that fast I wish I was that fast. Does Wallace have super speed? Is that a gay power?
“Took you long enough,” Wallace commented, looking Scott up and down, it looked like Scott had just ran a marathon right into the door, “What did you just run a mile? Legs don’t look much stronger” Scott let out a small sigh, and deflated. Damn. The two plopped themselves, their bodies settling into the red leather of the booth, Scott’s eyes followed each other passing sushi trays, each having different bundles of orange and white stripes, completely red fish, most wrapped with a layer of seaweed, sitting upon a bed of rice. Others were bits of tentacles, Scott grimaced at the idea of one of the suckers getting stuck in his throat.
“Have you ever gotten a tentacle sucky sucker thing stuck in your throat.” Scott asked, making sure not to take his eyes of the sushi in the moment. Wallaces head shook side to side as his eyelids folded over his eye.
“Scott don’t act like you’ve never been to one of these sushi bars, we go to these all the time.”
Wallace leaned over to grab two trays, the clack of plate could be heard throughout the restaurant as he placed down the sushi.
“But I’ve never had a tentacle before.”
…
“Yes you have.”
“What type of tentacle is that even?” Scott pointed as one of them passes by. Meanwhile, Wallace is staring at Scott like he just asked what is two plus two.
“That’s an octopus.”
…
Scott’s fingers rapidly tapped on the table, the tempo of the tapping increasing within seconds. His hand then shot towards the sushi grabbing as many plates as he could, he couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten to eat that much.
“Ok slow down, people are going to think I’m starving you.” Wallace put his hand in front of Scott’s.
“I’ll just tell them I’m trying to get fat for the winter!” Scott spoke between chews of sushi, it was hard to make out what he was trying to say, but Wallace understood pretty well.
“Chew with your mouth closed. Also, I’m paying, unless you can conjure up some money, you are on a limit.”
“Well, when I still have some money from wh…” Scott paused for a moment, “when I defeated Gideon and spent like, most of it.” A shiver trickled up Scott’s spine, he felt his eyes looking down again. Wallace furrowed his eyebrows, putting his hands in his pocket as Scott went quiet again. Without him noticing, Wallace managed to push a tray of octopus near Scott’s hand. The tentacles were dipped in a tray of black sauce with an orange undertone. Scott’s hand inched to pick it up, his mouth opening up just a tad to take a bite. His eyes opened more than they usually were.
“Wallace was that an octopus.”
“You know it.” Wallace replied.
“Octopus taste like chicken??” Scott squeezed those words out his throat, his hands clawing at the table.
“Octopus tastes like octopus.” Wallace smirked at Scott, silently proud that he managed to lighten the mood a bit. Scott’s back pressed into the red seat as he sunk into the chair.
“Im never touching another food item as long as you, the octopus of my existence, is around.” Scott’s hand traveled from his forehead, to his hair, and back.
“So, how do you rate the taste?” Wallace’s eyes scanned the different arrangements of plates and colors before grabbing a bit of sushi, the wood of the chopsticks rubbed against each other as the sushi was successfully grabbed, only minuscule bits of rice silently clattered back onto the plate.
“10/10. Not as good as Salmon though, best thing ever made”
“Knew it.. Dude, wait Salmon wasn't ma- never mind.” Wallace watched as Scott shoved his face with even more octopus, “I don’t know what’s more disgusting thinking about the fact this is an octopus, or watching you shove it down your throat.”
“I think thinking about the fact I’m shoving an octopus down my throat is more disgusting,” Scott gulped down the last remaining bit of octopus, “which means both. Both is gross... Wallace how come your allowed to get like a bajillion sushi..."
"Come on, I barely got any..." He says as most of the sushi on the table is his, "I should've gotten way more." He says as most of the sushi on the table is his.
"Can we afford.. that much?"
"Of course we can," He says as he can't afford that much. A moment of silence filled the air, not including the chattering of the other people in the restaurant, followed by the dinging of a bell. One of the employees placed a drink in front of Wallace, she spoke with Wallace for a moment, as she checked his ID. He turned to Scott, as she left, taking a sip of the mixture of a golden green.
“You’re not going to get super-drunk are you, Wallace?”
“I am just for you.” He winked as he drank half of the drink, “this is light stuff, here you can have the rest.” Scott eyeballed the drink like a hawk. His eyes flicked back and forth, much like the flicking thoughts in his brain. His hand reached out and he took a few sips.
“Why’d it get hot in here did they turn a heater on?” Scott set the drink down, the bottom of the glass spinning on the side of a plate before slipping off the side, now sitting on the wooden table.
“No you’re just drunk, in two sips..” Wallace pulled the drink towards him, “as your responsible caretaker, I say give the rest to me, and your done.” Wallace finishes the drink off, a bit of the green liquid dripping down the side of his mouth. His attempt to wipe it off fails completely.
“Also, I had five more drinks when you weren’t looking so now were both drunk!” Wallace’s hand shot in the air as a ridiculous smile creeped up his face, he reached in his pocket, leaving a good bit more money than needed in the table, “Ok time to head home, don’t die on the way Scott.” Wallace stood up grabbing a drunken Scott by his sleeve pulling him out the booth, his hand waved a goodbye to the waiter sitting at a stand right in front of the door. Scott’s shoes padded quickly against the concrete, stepping on drizzles of snow that had begun to fall. The snow didn’t affect the two of them though, a mixture of body heat from the two leaning on each other and warmth from the alcohol kept them feeling like it was summer. Well, how summer felt in Toronto at least. While Wallace was making an attempt to spot the apartment the best he could in his drunken state, Scott was busy falling in the snow... again... and again.. and, ok, not again. Except the last time he dragged Wallace down with him.
“Wallace how strong was that drink?”
“Really strong actually.” Wallace stood back up off the ground, “Ok get up.” Scott rose up zombie-like from the grass now covered with a thin layer of light snow.
“I don’t think I’ve been this drunk since Copleg, col- coplegopolege…. college.”
“Ok. Don’t hurt yourself trying to talk.” Wallace looked over as the apartment appeared over the horizon. Everytime the two saw the place it felt odd. Nothing felt the same. Different.
“You know, it’s crazy to think that stuff just comes in a circle, like life is one big giant pie and I’m the apples in the pie.” Scott swung his hands in opposite directions, making a what would have been perfect circle if it wasn’t for the fact he couldn’t see which way his hands were going at this point, “and your the cream on top.”
“Apple pie doesn’t usually have cream on it, also you’d be the cream, and I’d be the apples. You can’t have apple pie without the apples.”