Rhinopharyngitis (Dante)

[Dante Russo]

"You should make that decision after I punch you in the eye," Dante muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt. There was no doubt in Dante's mind that he would punch Wren in the face at some point. And it probably wouldn't be justified. Dante had a habit of pushing away anyone who might get close to him. Really, it was a mirical that Jo Jo had held on for so long. Dante treated him like shit.

He shrugged when Wren reaffirmed their friendship. "I'm sure you weren't," Dante said, "but people change their minds all the time." And then Wren was talking about his dog. Dante looked at the computer, then at Wren.

"Dude, I have issues with women, and she did a lot of metaphorical vaginas." He cocked an eyebrow at Wren. "Basically, no." Dante shook his head, wondering if that was a larg enough hint for Wren. The subject of Dante's sexuality had never really come up, and he didn't exactly relish the idea of coming out. Not that he was explicetly in the closet or anything, but he didn't make a point of not being in the closet either... and he really hated these touching conversations about his feelings and shit.

But Netflix! Yes. Excellent idea. No more gooey talk about friendship. "Yeah, sure," he agreed.. unless Wren suddenly understood the subtext of his last statement and wanted to talk about it. God he hoped not.

[Wren O'Hara]

Wren chuckled genially.

“I’m not really worried about it,” he said with another sniffle and a sigh. Truth be told, if Dante managed to reach high enough to give him a good, hard smack in the eye, he’d probably be more impressed than angry.

He listened patiently to what Dante was saying, although his mood had lifted considerably. The other boy didn’t seem too mad; uncomfortable, maybe, but Wren supposed he should have expected that. Dante was here, had sought him out, and was having a conversation with him willingly.

He found it hard to be upset about that.

At his proclamation about women and metaphorical vaginas, however, Wren studied Dante for a moment before looking back at his upside-down dog.

He hummed nasally. Issues with women? That kind of made sense. He didn’t know exactly what had gone on in Dante’s house, but if it had been bad enough to give him flashbacks, then it couldn’t have been a pleasant experience.

Unless he’d also meant…

The slow, graceless cogs of Wren’s mind churned thoughtfully for a few moments before giving up the ghost. In any case, what did it matter to Wren what Dante thought about women? Or men? Or, for that matter, dogs or Frida Kahlo?

“She also had a pet monkey,” he informed the other boy absentmindedly. It took him a few moments to get to the Netflix homepage and login – he had never really gotten the hang of touch typing. He slid the computer toward Dante, still clutching a tissue in the opposite hand.

“You pick,” he murmured, sinking down into the pile of blankets. “I feel like somebody hit me with a truck.”

[Dante Russo]

Oh thank god, Wren either didn't catch on or didn't feel the need to talk about it. He instead informed Dante that Frida had a pet monkey, at which Dante rose his eyebrows and said, "huh." He would be filing that away under "useless information".

"Y'know," Dante mused as he leaned forward to take the computer, "I don't actually know what you like. We always watch what I wanna' watch." Not that Dante minded having executive control over what they watched on TV, but Wren was sick and Dante thought it might be nice if they watched something Wren liked. Because Dante's first pick for a movie that made him feel better was Pulp Fiction. After that it was Fight Club, then Kill Bill. Dante had a suspission that most other people did not find these films as comforting as he did.

Granted, Dante usually bitched the whole time anything was on that he didn't like, but he was willing to shut-up this time. He'd been enough of a dick today. "D'you have a favorite movie or something? Because you know the kinda' shit I'm gonna pick. Don't know if you wanna watch people get shot in the face right now..."

[Wren O'Hara]

Wren blinked innocently as Dante took his computer. He furrowed his eyebrows in thought; surely he’d mentioned his preference in films sometime.

He thought about it for a while, but came up empty. Did he really talk about himself that little? It was a very strange realization for him – he supposed that somehow, deep down, he’d always just assumed that people could read him like an open book. He’d always been afraid of becoming one of those people who overshared.

Was undersharing also a thing?

“Well,” he began slowly. “I like stuff on the Discovery Channel… and National Geographic… and stuff about ships… and submarines… and… sharks…”

He paused, embarrassed.

“My favorite movie is Jaws,” he admitted. “I don’t think it’s on Netflix, though.”

He paused again, although this time it was to cough vigorously for about half a minute.

“My second favorite movie is Ghostbusters,” he added finally, with a bit of a wheeze. He looked a little guilty at this admission, as though he were afraid Dante would immediately revoke their friendship on account of Wren being terminally lame.

[Dante Russo]

Dante couldn't not smile at Wren's favorite movie. He tried not to, but the corners of his mouth twisted and he bowed his head a little. Jesus, that's fucking adorable. Jaws. And then his second favorite, god. Dante bit his lip, and looked really hard at the computer screen, trying not to grin. He was starting to find Wren's taste sort of endearing. Dante wasn't a fan of either movie, but he was going to try really hard not to mock it while they watched. Because Dante had already decided they were watching whatever Wren wanted, so Ghostbusters it was.

Assuming he could spell it.

He typed a couple variations into Netflix's search bar (typing was easier than writing by hand for Dante, because his fingers just remembered the patterns, and he didn't have to worry about writing letters backwards), then he gave up and went to Google. Google was better than anything at figuring out what he was trying to spell.

"Okay," he said finally, setting the laptop on the bed and turning it so they could both see the screen. "Ghostbusters. Just for you." 'Cause you're cute when you're sick.