"We will stop at your place first," Leroy said, closing the door to the passenger seat before walking to the other end of the car. He climbed in, starting the engine before adjusting the mirror right above.

     Zachary just stared at the younger man, smiling a bit—mostly to himself. He thought Leroy looked weirdly cute in his fitted black jeans, a green turtleneck, and a brown jacket. The younger man's hair was full and twisted in the cutest waves and curls at the nape of his neck and hairline as always. Even now, Zach's fingers itched just a little bit to reach out and touch them. His eyes drifted to Zach's brows, cute nose, and then mouth—and suddenly Zach's face warmed up as memories from last night made him feel not so innocent anymore. He looked away, staring out of the window as the car was pulled out of the driveway and into the main road.

     "Wait, tell me you can eat movie popcorn, please?" Leroy asked, and Zach turned to look at him.

     The older man furrowed his brows, thinking for a bit. "I can eat plain popcorn..."

     Leroy sighed, resting his back on the driver's seat as his grip on the steering wheel. "So no to excessively buttered cinema popcorn? Got it. I guess we can find a combo with a wrap or hotdog or something."

     "I mean. I could have some popcorn."

     Leroy shook his head. "It's okay, I'm not mad or anything, and besides, I don't think you want to experience an allergic reaction or diarrhea in a public restroom, trust me."

     Zach raised a brow. "Is it that bad?"

     Leroy's eyes went wide as if he was recounting something. "You have no fucking idea!" he groaned, making Zachary chuckle, and soon the younger man was telling him quite the peculiar tale of taking a shit mid-road trip pit stop at a gas station.

     Though it was funny—and horrifying, a part of Zachary couldn't help thinking of it wistfully. He personally had very little experience to talk about, and the small mundane things Leroy had been through fascinated him. For heaven's sake, he was going to watch a movie on the big screen for the first time, and he couldn't help hoping that just like with this experience, he'd share many more firsts with Leroy. He couldn't imagine sharing them with anyone else.

     The discussion died down just before Leroy stopped the car in front of Zachary's place, he reached out his hand in front of Zach, asking for the key. "If you give me your key, I can go find your chair, so you don't have to come out," he said, and the older man nodded, fishing for it on the backpack he'd put but his feet before handing it over to Leroy. He watched the brown-eyed man leave the car and walk up to the bungalow, smiling a bit when the younger man paused at the stairs to pet the cat hiding under it.

     He watched as Leroy disappeared into the house, and a few minutes later the man was carrying a folded wheelchair with him out the door. When Leroy loaded the chair in the trunk of the car, he climbed back into the driver's seat before starting the car.

     "I think we're set then," Leroy announced, smiling as he started to pull the car into the main road. "I didn't pick a movie because I wasn't sure what you would want to watch, but we can pick there, but honestly, the cinemas are never packed anymore."

     Zachary just listened. He didn't have an opinion on that, seeing as he'd never been to a cinema. He just knew that since streaming became a big thing people weren't looking to spend an arm and a leg watching something they could watch for half price subscribing to a streaming platform or straight-up pirating.

     "So, are we getting a regular seat for me, or..." Zachary trailed, peeking behind him to see the handle of his wheelchair just beside the headrest of the back seat.

     Leroy seemed to think about it for a while before sighing. "Well, we stopped to get it because you need it," he said, stopping at a red light. "Cinemas will have space for a wheelchair, but I don't know what you want. I feel like, you should because I want to walk around with you at the mall before and after the movie, but if you just want to see a movie and nothing else, then—"

     The pause was followed by nothing, and Leroy just stared out into the road, waiting for Zachary to say something.

     The older man stares down at his lap. He twiddled his fingers as he attempted to come to a decision. On one hand, being in his chair was more comfortable, but on another hand, he didn't want to be stared at today—not because he couldn't handle it—but because he didn't want Leroy to feel uncomfortable. Sure, the younger man would deny it felt dehumanizing, but Zachary knew it was.

     It didn't matter how they felt about each other—whether it was romantic or friendly—the fact was, just having Zachary in a chair would make people assume Leroy was his caretaker and that came with a lot of uncomfortable assumptions and connotations that would either be embarrassing or infuriating depending on who you were asking.

     "I'd prefer the chair," he said in a low voice. He fought the thought in his head that told him he might regret things. Leroy had talked so much about going to this and that store, and he wasn't going to tighten the outing in a way that they could only get a movie in.

     Leroy raised a brow. "Are you sure?"

     Zach nodded. "Yeah. It's definitely better than stopping every five minutes to catch my breath," he admitted, sinking into his chair some more.

     Leroy nodded, reaching out to touch Zach's arm. "If the crowd gets too much. I promise I won't get mad if you want to go home."

     Zachary smiled a little bit, chuckling as he shook his head. "Okay."

     They were soon at the mall, and Zachary could swear he hadn't seen that many people and cares in the same place. It took forever for Leroy to find parking, and when he did, it was quite a bit away from the main entrance. Zach said a silent thank you that he hadn't insisted on walking, because he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to make it to the cinema just by himself. He sat in the passenger seat as Leroy unfolded his chair and stepped out to sit on it when the younger man was done.

     They made their way to the mall with Leroy walking right beside Zachary's wheelchair.

     Zachary could admit he was overwhelmed. The number of people walking around and talking was putting his senses into overload. The chatter mashed together in a way that sounded like buzzing from bad speakers. The occasional kid crying didn't help matters.

     Also, people walked so bloody close—centimeters apart—and that was generous. If anything, people bumped into his chair often, and it was starting to drive him insane. The only thing that really kept his rage down was Leroy touching his shoulder and occasionally reminding him he was there right beside him—

     Not alone.

     Not by himself figuring things out.

     "Do you want to go to the bookstore first, we have some time?" Leroy asked as Zach snapped out of his thoughts.

     "Hmm? Sure, why not?" The older man said, looking over at the store Leroy had his eyes on. A retail book distributor that housed a coffee store in it.

     They stayed at the store for half an hour, and Zachary was grateful for it—it meant left people. A quieter environment, and something to discuss with Leroy that they both enjoyed. They didn't end up buying anything but whispering to each other as they looked through book descriptions and stared at book covers just left a warm spot in Zachary's chest.

     It felt good—mundane—lovely. Leroy's mere presence made the experience noteworthy—cherishable.

     They strolled to the cinema that was at the far end of the mall after their little blimp on the bookstore, and when they got there, Leroy announced that he was buying the tickets. "And the food. I invited you, remember?" he added when Zachary's eyes drifted to the concession stand. The older man's lips parted before he pursed them close again. Well, he sure wasn't going to argue in public.

     They made their way to the ticket master up front, and Leroy was quick to ask for one of three wheelchair spots in the room after they settled on a movie. Well, Leroy settled on it, because Zachary couldn't decide between the two sci-fi movies showing in the next ten minutes.

     Things had been going on autopilot until the ticket master declined the seat numbers he'd picked.

     "Why can't we have that seat and a regular seat?" Leroy asked. "They're beside each other so why not?"

     The older man manning the ticket stand looked uncomfortable. "We don't know the state of the accessibility ramp."

     "Check?" Leroy pressed, and the man's eyes moved from Leroy to Zach, as if begging the older man to declare it wasn't a big deal to leave his wheelchair unattended to watch a movie.

     "Are you going to check?" Lorey said again and the ticket master looked over at him again before nodding.

     "Give me a minute."

     The man was gone for about five minutes before he came back. "The one on the left is fine, you might have to walk to the spot and bring it up the right because there's no way you're pushing a chair between the seats to get to this spot," the man explained, pointing to the touch screen machine in front of him. "I hope that's okay."

     Leroy looked down at Zach, and the older blinked before nodding, "that's fine."

     Leroy's facial expression shifted quickly and soon he was smiling again. "Okay, I'll pay now," he mentioned, urging the man to select the seats and get things over with.

     When they were done, he grabbed some things and the concession, and Zachary just stared at the younger man as he filled out his drink at the self-serve machine. Leroy didn't look pissed, or angry. From his self-composure, no one would have guessed he'd been five minutes away from throwing hands with an elderly minimum-wage employee.

     On one hand, Zachary felt like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him from the brief agitation the almost escalation had caused, but on the other hand, he felt like laughing. It was weird to explain but now that it was all past them and done with, it felt like a weird conversation starter that would prompt Leroy's signature deep sighs and exaggerated eye rolls.

     "You sounded like you were going to ask for a manager," Zachary said, giggling a bit, and Leroy looked up from the paper cup he was currently covering the top of.

     "I mean, I would have?" he said, grinning a bit.

     So cute. Zachary thought, feeling his face warm up as he took in the cutest smile he'd ever seen in his life. He looked away, smiling to himself. "Can't imagine how you'd explain ending up in a Karen compilation."

     Leroy laughed this time, shaking his head before motioning for the both of them to head to the cinema room. "Come on, we have probably thirty minutes of unnecessary advertisements to watch."

     When they got into the dark room, the ads were already playing. Zachary had to get up from his seat so Leroy could make his way all around to the other side of the room to place his wheelchair. They settled in soon after with both of them having to share the armrest of Leroy's chair to stuff the snacks.

     They watched the ads quietly for a bit before Zach started to notice the words on the screen were fading out, and sometimes he couldn't see anything properly for seconds at a time.

     "Is there a problem?" Leroy asked, and Zach blinked looking over at the concerned man.

     "Eh..." Zach trailed, blinking as he balled his hands into fists. "I'm seeing dots on the screen."

     "Dots on the screen?"

     "I don't know, it's like when you stare at the sun or a lamp too long and things just blur, and you sometimes see black dots?" Zachary explained, finding himself rambling. "I think the screen is too bright."

     The two of them were silent for a bit before Leroy peeled up and began searching his pocket. "Here, you can use my glasses," he said, taking out a glass case before opening it and giving the sunglasses within it to Zachary.

     "They're not prescription, but they have a blue light filter, and they dim things a bit," Leroy said as he watched Zachary inspect the pair of glasses between his fingers.

     "I don't know if they'll help a lot, but hopefully it does something..." Leroy trailed, watching the older man try them on.

     Zach squinted in them before opening his eyes up some more. They weren't prescription, definitely, and they did dim down the screen brightness. The colors were less intense, but they still bothered him, and he had to pick his battles.

     "Are they good enough?"

     Zachary nodded. "Yeah. They help with the broth mess for sure," he muttered, looking over at Leroy. The edge of Leroy's lips turned to create a slight smile. He looked relieved.

     "I'm sorry I didn't think of your light sensitivity thing—"

     "It's okay," Zach said, cutting the younger man off. "I didn't think about it too..." he trailed. "The sunglasses help so it doesn't matter," he added, reaching out to touch Leroy's hand. "It's okay."

     Zachary wasn't sure why he felt the need to make sure it was a hundred percent clear, but he was doing it anyway. He wasn't going to ruin something that was going so well with his problems. Leroy had planned this out, picked the movie when Zach had been indecisive, paid for everything, and even almost escalated a complaint to a manager over having space for his wheelchair.

     Leroy frowned a little but seemed to relent to Zachary's words. He rested his back on his seat, staring at the ads that were still playing on the screen.

     "I wonder how long this will last," he said, and Zachary chuckled, watching the movie ad too.

     "Maybe people don't come to the cinema anymore because of twenty-minute ads before the start of the movie," Zach mumbled, and Leroy seemed to find that hilarious.

     The dark room had a few more people filter in, but overall, it seemed like many people weren't that interested in watching a sci-fi chosen family movie.

     Zachary wished he could say he watched the movie, but even with the sunblock sunglasses Leroy had lent to him, the mix of quick motion and non-adjustable brightness and colors still messed with his vision. That didn't mean he didn't get to enjoy the experience though—the only difference was that most of his attention was on Leroy. He watched as the man's expressions changed under the mix of colors emitted from the screen. He smiled a little whenever he got frustrated by characters, or audibly gasped, and sometimes Leroy would turn to him, say something almost inaudible about the movie that Zachary four out of five times couldn't make out before turning to face the screen again.

     He liked being here.

     Staring at Leroy. Holding hands during a tense scene, and being asked if he was cold, and okay without a sweater.

     He'd never had anyone be this sweet to him. When he looked at Leroy, he didn't see pity float behind those big brown eyes. It was just affection—and if Zachary dared to say—maybe love?