Midnight Movie

...he gave me that wary look that means he thinks I'm completely missing the point and doesn't quite know how to explain it to me.

I wondered again whatever possessed me to think this would be a good idea. I really should have paid more attention when he suggested it but I was... distracted. God, Tristan's got the most amazing hands.

A special encore showing of Spiderman and Spiderman II. Somehow the fact that it started at midnight was supposed to be a good thing. At least that's what I gathered from the way that Tristan was buzzing with anticipation beside me as we waited for the show to start. I told him we could just as easily rent out the theater for a private showing but he gave me that wary look that means he thinks I'm completely missing the point and doesn't quite know how to explain it to me. At least the seats were only half-full so we had a little island of privacy.

I believe Tristan thought I would enjoy it more if I understood the story behind Spiderman. That or he just wanted an excuse to go on about it, either possibility was equally likely.

Supposedly this student named Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider and gained spider-like powers thereafter. For Tristan's sake, I'll refrain from comment on that. He does the logical thing and tries to make some money from this newly acquired circumstance, but becomes a superhero when his uncle ends up dying at the hands of a burglar. Somehow it's the kid's fault because he failed to get involved earlier in something that was none of his business in the first place. He wasn't even there when the murder took place. I am not predisposed to think highly of Mr. Parker's intelligence.

It was a train-wreck of a movie and the sequel was worse. In the secluded darkness of the theater I ran my fingers along the underside of his wrist, but even though I heard his breath hitch in response the look he gave me held enough annoyance that I shifted away, stung.

Idiotic movie? Right. Seething mass of humanity? Check. Irritating companion? Certainly. Being rejected in a tacky, low-rent temple to the basest Hollywood pap? Priceless. Just fucking priceless.

Five minutes, give or take. That's how long I was able to watch after that, though it was impossible to escape the blurred assault from the hideous speakers.

So I let Tristan watch the movie, while I watched Tristan. He's got the most expressive face, more so than the excuse for acting up on the screen. He leaned forward during the action, willing the plot to follow as his fists clenched and his body hunched. He smiled wistfully as the light threw long shadows of blue and red against his cheek. He laughed that low, rumbling chuckle as the soundtrack danced through his eyes. I realized I wasn't sorry I'd come after all.

He did ask me what I'd thought of it as we walked back to the car. I needn't have worried, as he seemed more than willing to fill my careful silence with his own observations. He went on and on and on about how this character should have been in a different costume, the differences between the movie and the comic, what villain they would most likely use in the ineviatible sequel, all with this gleeful enthusiasm that it made me want to smile.

Except... he was so wrapped up in it. Tristan's eyes were distant, looking at what I have no idea. The past perhaps, days spent reading comics and talking with his friends when things like that mattered. When he glanced my way he only looked through me, and it made me want to grab him and throw him down and kiss him until he came back and saw me again. I didn't but it was harder than it should have been.

Then as we reached the car he stopped and turned, leaning up against the side and touching the back of my hand, our private gesture of connection. He said he thought that next weekend we should use my video room and that I should choose a couple of movies for him to see, things that I'd enjoyed in the past.

I know that I'd been thinking of something earlier, something other than the deep promise in Tristan's eyes, the soft heat of his mouth against mine as I stole a gentle kiss, the inexplicable way he always knew just what to say when I needed him to say it.

I'm sure whatever it was couldn't have been that important. And tomorrow I'd go shopping through the Bose catalog because that system would need an upgrade before the weekend.

---

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