Doug & Wade | Thursday Evening (backdated)

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

Doug and Wade head to Mama Lupe's for dinner, non-awkward talk ensues.


Wade met up with Doug at the brownstone and they headed toward this place that the younger man would name only as Mama Lupe's. The mercenary wasn't sure what to expect, but he was pretty sure it'd have to be basically amazing to inspire the amount of fanatical delight Doug kept expressing. "Fooooooood," Wade said once the restaurant finally came into view.

"Mm-hmm," Doug murmured affirmatively as they entered the door. "And not just any food. Good authentic amazing Mexican," he continued. He broke off to engage the hostess in rapid-fire Spanish, accompanied by grins and good-natured poking on both sides, before turning back to Wade. "The circle is now complete. When I left you, I was but a learner, now I am the master," he intoned.

"Well, lead on, good sir, and tell me what the best three main courses are so I can order them and partake of their deliciousness." Wade was hungry. Now that he didn't have to dread Mondays every week, he was really getting back into the swing of eating a lot. And regularly.

Doug chuckled. "The best things to eat are whatever the eponymous Mama Lupe brings out. Trust me, she's used to feeding the 'mutant metabolism'." And with Doug being more or less honorary family, to even look at the menu was a mild insult.

"Duly noted. It's still polite to ask for fourths, though, right?" Wade settled into his seat and grinned - endless bowls of tortilla chips and salsa.

"That's always polite. Doesn't matter what I come in looking like, Mama Lupe always tells me I look too skinny." The busboy who dropped the chips and salsa and small glasses of water on the table clearly knew Doug, as he set out two separate bowls of salsa. Doug took a sip of water and watched to see what Wade would do.

Wade double-fisted it.

Taking one chip in each hand, he got respectable heaps of salsa from both bowls, one on either chip, and then ate the one in his left hand first. It didn't kill his tastebuds instantly, so he swallowed and then went for the next one. That one... well. It was a wee bit spicier and he tipped his head to the side almost contemplatively. "Tasty."

"You'll do," Doug said with a grin, and took a healthy helping from 'his' salsa bowl with gusto. "It has been said that I enjoy waging 'savage war' on my taste buds," he informed Wade. "So they know to bring me the good stuff when I come."

"Mm... yes, they do," Wade said, nodding. He didn't know where his healing factor ranked tastebuds, but he was willing to kill a few of them tonight. "So... they'll really just bring us out the food? We don't have to do anything else?" He dipped another chip, munching happily away at the spicy death made of tomatoes, onions, and various peppers atop it.

"Just pay the check at the end of the meal," Doug said with a chuckle. Of course, Mama Lupe tended to 'forget' to charge for things here and there, sometimes, but Doug always made up for it with an extra bit in the tip.

Arching an eyebrow even as he dipped yet another tortilla chip, Wade said, "What, is that your fee for introducing me to his place? I don't usually pay for people I'm not dating, just so you know."

Doug coughed as a piece of chip went down his windpipe sideways at that comment. "You asked if there was anything else 'we' had to do," he retorted with a roll of his eyes. "I meant pitch in a few bucks if you want, not cover the whole tab," he clarified. "Besides, you probably cover the check enough taking Marie-Ange out, since she can't cook a lick." The last statement wasn't at all bitter, just...testing the waters.

"And all I can make is burgers, really. And steak," Wade said, amused. "Give me a grill and I'm pretty much set." He hadn't actually known that Marie-Ange couldn't cook, but he figured knowing details like that was something that you did as you went along.

"She once had an accident in the kitchen trying to boil water to make ramen." That wasn't exactly telling tales out of school, as Marie-Ange related the story with some regularity herself.

"Was there oil in the pot from where somebody else cooked pasta or something?" Wade's question was half-serious, since he'd heard of similar things happening to other people. And he sort of felt the need to at least obliquely defend his girlfriend's cooking prowess... because he was totally the kind of guy who would eat blackened vegetables if she cooked them and then ask for seconds.

Doug shrugged. "It's a Noodle Incident. You're not supposed to ask for details." He wondered if Wade knew anything about TVTropes, or whether the reference would go right over the other man's head.

Wade gave Doug a funny look. "A say what now?"

"It's a TV trope - there's a whole site devoted to them. Go, have fun, learn things, but make sure you have a spare day or so. There's a reason they call it The Pit. Once you fall in, you have a hard time climbing back out." Doug chuckled. "Anyways. Noodle Incident. It's a past event that is referenced but never explained."

"Right," Wade said, tipping his head back a bit so he could eat another chip doused in delicious salsa. "I dunno if I'll be searching for that site or not. I'm not really an internet kinda guy most of the time. Though the network at the mansion's fun."

Doug munched on chips himself for a while, and there was a bit of quiet at the table as they both ate. "Why isn't this awkward?" Doug asked curiously. "I mean, I can't have a conversation with Marie-Ange without it being eighty-two kinds of awkward, and here I am eating dinner with you."

"I dunno," Wade said, shrugging. They were getting low on chips. "Why would it be awkward? Why's talking to Marie-Ange awkward?"

"Oh Jesus." Doug covered his face with a hand. "I thought you knew from reading the journals." He took a deep breath. "Marie-Ange and I dated for quite a while. She left me a 'Dear John' letter before she went off to New Orleans for most of a year on a private...thing. She came back around the time you arrived at the mansion." Another basket of chips appeared at the table as if by secret waiter magic, and Doug was extremely grateful to have something to do with his hands and mouth after that admission.

"Oh," Wade said, pausing mid-chew on a chip to consider that. He pondered it for a moment before shrugging. "So I guess you'd know about her cooking, then." Which meant Wade might be able to take Doug's word for it. Probably. He thought for another little bit before reaching for a chip and saying, "I don't really do awkward, personally. It's against the religion I don't actually believe in anymore. Or something."

"Fair enough." Doug had wanted to dislike the man who was dating his exgirlfriend, given how complicated things were between him and Marie-Ange, but it was seemingly impossible to dislike Wade. Maybe it was a secondary mutant power.

Gesturing between them with a non-salsa-ed chip, Wade said, "This," and then ate the chip before putting the back of his left hand against the palm of his right and wiggling his thumbs, "Is not that. We are not going to awkward turtle. Even though turtles are pretty much awesome." Then he reached across the table and offered Doug his fist. "Pound it."

There wasn't much Doug could do but reach across and bump his fist against Wade's.