You Never Told Me...

A Scott Pilgrim oneshot

By Linda/Linables/Imprefectlin

Alright! I finally caved in and wrote this thing, since the idea had been gnawing at my head for a while. ^n^; I'm actually new to this fandom (I just did a marathon reading of all six books right after the sixth one came out), so please forgive any mistakes I may have made. (I think it's pretty solid, though. I hope.)

I've got a couple of other ideas that I might write in the near future, which involve Scott and Ramona. (Possibly an "M" rating...) This one just wouldn't stay unwritten, since the idea came into my head after Scott told someone who I can't remember (^_^;) that him meeting Wallace at university was "pretty gay." :D

Oh and by the way, this takes place not too long after the sixth book. A few months maybe. Enjoy!

It was the kind of Friday night that had become fairly typical. Stuffed into a booth in the back corner of Lee's Palace was a lively party of six which consisted of Scott, Ramona, Wallace, Kim, Stephen Stills, and his boyfriend Joseph. When the work week ended – even though several of them had to work on weekends as well, technically speaking – the group got together and let loose. Wallace was usually the first to get drunk, and from there it spread to Stephen Stills, Joseph, and quite often Kim. Tonight was no exception, and at this moment Scott found himself precariously squashed in between Ramona and Wallace, who had decided to lie down on the outside half of their bench, with his legs dangling over the edge and outside the booth and his head planted on Scott's lap. Now, being pushed up against Ramona he didn't mind in the least, but the drunk Wallace lying partially on top of him was making Scott more than just a bit uncomfortable.

The situation on the other side of the booth wasn't much more orderly, but at least they had room. Joseph had decided to crawl up onto Stephen Stills' lap, leaving well over half of the bench free for Kim to lounge on. If Kim hadn't been sitting with her legs spread apart and her arms draped over the back rest, Scott might have considered moving. Or better yet, passing Wallace over to the other side of the table. But for now, he had to settle for trying to awkwardly poke and nudge Wallace off of him.

Once he'd kept this up for some time, Wallace opened his eyes and looked up, facing an upside down version of Scott's face and smiling lopsidedly.

"Scottyyy..." he droned, giggling slightly. "You've never touched me this much."

At these words Scott quickly pulled his hands away, hugging them against his torso. He stared down at Wallace with saucer-width eyes. Next to him, Ramona tried her best not to crack up.

Wallace reached up and clumsily slapped his hands on either side of Scott's' face, squeezing his cheeks and making him yelp in surprise. At this point everyone on the other side of the booth was laughing, and Ramona eventually relented and joined in. She took pity on her poor, defenseless boyfriend though, and hoisted herself up into a standing position on the bench, giving Scott room to scoot over and get out from under Wallace. Said man's head fell onto the bench with a soft "thump". Ramona then climbed back down, almost doubling over herself with laughter as she did so.

Scott shoved Wallace just far enough for his behind to be hanging over the edge of the bench, and the sudden imbalance caused the man to scramble into a haphazard seated position before he fell. He then joined in on the laughter because, A) It was all pretty damn funny, and B) He was drunk enough to laugh even if it hadn't been. Scott laughed too, even though he was one of the only two people at the table who weren't drunk. (And it helped that Ramona was now the only person violating his personal space.)

Scott still tried to keep up his "I don't drink" morality on a general basis, and he was pretty successful actually. Tonight he'd only had one gin and tonic, and he'd built up his tolerance enough - mostly during the months he'd spent cooped up in his apartment after Ramona's literal disappearance into subspace – that it didn't shake him up. Ramona wasn't drunk either, but it was because she (unlike some others) didn't want to risk a hangover the night before a Saturday shift. She'd kept her job with even after her subspace bag had been destroyed, although it wasn't quite as easy to deliver large packages anymore. Regardless, she was still one of the best delivery people they had.

But despite her sensibility, she still managed to ask a question then that made Scott jump in his seat. Honestly, he couldn't think of many things he would have liked to hear less at that moment. But there it was.

"Scott, you know, you never have told me how you and Wallace met!"

At the mention of his name, Wallace turned and smiled an unnaturally wide smile. Ramona giggled. Scott felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured on his head.

Nervously he said, "Heh...well..."

Most of the group was watching him, apparently as eager as Ramona to hear the tale. Scott tried to wrangle up an excuse.

"Uh, I don't think you guys really wanna hear it...it's...umm...not that interesting?"

"Well I think it was damn interesting!" Wallace interjected, playfully punching Scott on the arm.

Scott flailed like a fish out of water.

"Uhh...well...it's...uh..."

"Totally gay?" Kim offered, laughing heartily.

"N-no! I-I mean, well yes, but, but..." Scott already feeble defense was crumbling, and he couldn't quite think of any other protest.

"Dude, what story involving Wallace isn't totally gay? Go on, do tell." said Ramona, giving her boyfriend a Cheshire cat-like smile.

"I can tell it if Scotty boy doesn't have the balls to..." slurred Wallace from his other side.

Alarmed by that prospect, Scott quickly refused. "No way man, if the story's gonna be told, let me be the one to tell it!" That, he figured, was at least better.

"Aww, why?" asked Wallace.

"Because," said Scott. "I don't trust you to tell the truth right now. Or, you know, speak in words that we can understand."

"Aw, fine. But don't skimp on details, dude. 'Cause if you do...I won't."

Faced with that frightening idea, Scott sighed and hit play on his memory-cam.

It was their first year at university, and Scott had found his classmate (from one class) Wallace unexpectedly and relentlessly butting into his life. He sat next to him in their one shared class, he showed up to his house (Scott still wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten his address), and he charmed Scott's mother into letting him eat dinner there at least once a week. Then one night, Wallace convinced Scott to join him at a bar, and Scott got drunker than he'd ever been in his entire life. Wallace asked him if he could crash at his place – and although Scott couldn't for the life of him remember what he'd said, the next thing he knew Wallace was in his room unrolling a sleeping bag.

Scott's parents and sister Stacey were all out of the house that night, which was lucky on their part considering how much noise the boys made upon arrival. They stumbled up the stairs side by side, arms wrapped around the other's shoulders. When they got to Scott's room, Scott collapsed face-down on his bed, and Wallace crawled (with some trouble) under it to grab the sleeping bag that he knew was stored there. After scooting back out from under the bed and unrolling the sleeping bag on the floor, he flopped down onto it, though he didn't lie down.

Scott randomly giggled, drooling a bit on his comforter. Wallace turned his head to look at him, and slowly a wide, lazy smile spread across his face. He got up, tripping slightly over something that might have been either his own feet or a sneaker thrown onto Scott's floor, and made his way over to the bed. He crawled up onto it, lieing down on his stomach parallel to Scott. He reached a hand out to poke his shoulder, and when Scott didn't respond, he did it again, harder. Slowly, Scott turned to look at Wallace, and being as drunk as he was, met the man's smile with one of his own. Normally he would have been a little bit freaked out that some guy he'd only known for about six weeks had just crawled up next to him on his bed, but right now it seemed weirdly okay.

Wallace scooted a few centimeters closer, then raised one eyebrow slightly and asked, "Wanna kiss me?"

"And then I said no and fell asleep. The end." Scott punctuated his feeble attempt at closing the story with a crossing of his arms.

A chorus of "Boooo!"s was heard all around the table. Scott pouted.

"Noooo way!" Wallace shouted, clapping a hand onto Scott's shoulder. "Uh-uh, we totally (hic) made out like high schoolers in a janitor's closet!"

An uproar of laughter arose from the table. Scott looked at Ramona with his biggest pleading eyes, but she giggled herself and rubbed his thigh, giving him an encouraging look.

So to save himself from having to hear Wallace's version of the rest of the story, Scott sighed and continued.

Scott giggled again, and said, "Hmmm...sure."

And so, with no real coherent thought running through either young man's head, they scooted the rest of the way towards each other and locked lips.

Wallace, who was easily the more forward one, immediately raised a hand up and tangled it into Scott's long, shaggy light brown hair. He pulled Scott as close as possible, darting his tongue out aggressively against the other man's lips in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Scott offered up no protest in his current condition, parting his lips and letting Wallace dip his tongue into his mouth and brush against Scott's own. He was content to lie back and let his friend take control of the situation, both because he wasn't sure what to do and because his limbs seemed to have lost all sense of weight and reality. All Scott could consciously do was reach out blindly with his hands and grasp onto whatever he could find, which in this case was Wallace's midsection.

Apparently Wallace took this as an okay to advance, because in one fluid motion he hoisted himself up and over Scott, pushing the man onto his back in the process. The kiss was broken for what seemed like only a millisecond before both men dove back in. In the frantic rush of the moment, Wallace's hand darted to the hem of Scott's t-shirt and started pulling. They broke apart so the garment could be yanked off fully, Scott raised his arms, Wallace tugged the fabric up, the shirt was almost off...

Creak...slam...footsteps.

All of a sudden a single thread of clarity tore through Scott's head, and his eyes quickly became as wide as saucers.

"D-dude!" he sputtered. "Someone's...(hic)...someone's home!"

It wasn't a huge house, and whoever had just entered was bound to be coming up to their own bedroom very soon. Scratch that, NOW. Scott heard definite footsteps ascending the stairs. Quickly, he wriggled out from under Wallace and lunged toward his door, grabbing the knob and turning the lock with a frantic "click". He stood there, dizzy and panting, not turning around to go back to where Wallace was currently eyeing him curiously.

"Scott?" he heard from behind him.

Apparently the momentary rush of clarity had also managed to remind Scott of another fairly important thing. He slowly turned around to face Wallace.

"Uh...I just, um...(hic)...remembered somethin'..."

"What?"

"...I'm...not gay."

Wallace looked at Scott intensely for a moment, then blinked a few times.

"You (hic) sure?"

"Yeah. Pretty sure."

Scott offered a nervous laugh, which broke into a hiccup. Slowly, Wallace rose up into a sitting position and hoisted himself off of Scott's bed.

"Right...well...yeah...um...g'nite then."

With a bit of awkwardness that was mostly disguised by the effects of the alcohol, Wallace stumbled over to where he'd set up his sleeping bag earlier. He gave a little wave to Scott as he lied down, and Scott waved back.

"G'nite..." he said, flicking the light switch that was on the wall nearby. The room plunged into a comfortable darkness. Scott made his way over to his bed, almost tripping a couple of times but managing to find his destination. He lied down, and sloppily arranged the covers on top of himself. He was just about to nod off when he heard Wallace ask from somewhere on the floor:

"You sure you're not?"

"Uh...yeah."

"You wanna (hic) live with me some day anyway?"

Scott was about to answer, but all of a sudden he heard a loud snore come from the exact same spot where the voice had come from. Blinking once, Scott flipped his pillow and fell asleep within moments of his head hitting it.

"So yeah, there you go. That's how it happened. Satisfied?" Scott grumbled, an embarrassed flush staining his cheeks and nose.

"Whooo!" Wallace shouted beside him, thrusting his fist into the air. Kim hollered out a cat call, and Stephen Stills clapped. Scott sunk a little deeper into his seat, face growing ever redder. The only upside to the moment was that Scott now felt Ramona wrapping an arm around his torso and leaning in to whisper in his ear, "That was hot."

After one more round of drinks hit the table, Ramona paid Scott one more service – she gracefully bowed out of the party, (truthfully) saying that she had to get up early the next morning for work. Scott had to work too, so although he didn't have to get up as early as Ramona, he immediately joined her. As soon as they stepped out of Lee's Palace and started walking towards their apartment, Scott let out a huge sigh of relief. Ramona laughed and grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers together with his.

"That crowd's a little too much when you're not drunk yourself." Scott mused.

"Well next time, maybe you could have a couple." Ramona replied, grinning.

"No way, you – and everyone else – now knows what can happen when I get drunk!"

"Hey, hey, if you start making out with Wallace I'll definitely intervene."

"You'd better..."

Ramona laughed again, squeezing Scott's hand. Sometimes her boyfriend could be such a kid. But a cute one, at least.

A short time passed, and something started nagging at Scott's brain. He frowned.

"Ramona?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you okay with hearing about my frolicking with Wallace at university?

Ramona sighed softly.

"Scott, it's in the past. And I know you never would have done that if you'd been sober. Right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's okay then. Also, I wasn't kidding. It's kinda hot."

Scott's brain processed this for a few moments.

"You mean like how guys are into lesbians?"

"Right."

"Ah."

They walked in comfortable silence then for a while, until Scott turned to Ramona and smiled. She soon noticed him looking at her, and turned to face him.

"What?"

"I love you, Ramona."

Scott squeezed Ramona's palm and rubbed her thumb with his. She smiled and blushed slightly.

"I love you too, Scott."

From there, the peaceful silence lasted the rest of the way to their apartment – and for the first time in several hours, Scott was relaxed.