Cay's right. Sex cheered me right up. It doesn't wake me up - I'm still liable to fall asleep on my dinner - but I've cheered up.
I wrap one arm around him and rest my head on his shoulder so that I'm half leaning back on the wall, half leaning on him, smiling. "Mind if we get a takeaway tonight and do Chinatown some other time?" I mumble. I'd be happy to stay right here for the rest of the evening, thanks.
"Whatever you want, dollface," he says, playing with my hair.
"Mmm," I hum, "at this rate, you'll have to order it telepathically." Needless to say, I'm very, very relaxed and sleepy and him sitting here calmly playing with my hair is only making me more relaxed.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi, I dig it," he laughs, and I smile, kissing his shoulder.
"My big, brave knight turns out to be a Star Wars character," I giggle, trying to picture him as a part of the film.
"Hey, I can be either a Jedi Knight or a Pokémon master." I frown slightly. I can't say I've ever paid much attention to either Star Wars or Pokémon. I don't remember a telepathic Pokémon master.
"You big nerd," I mutter, "stop referring to characters I don't really know about."
"You've never seen Star Wars?" he asks, looking all shocked and I arch an eyebrow.
"No, and I don't intend to, same as I don't intend to ever watch Grease, or Hairspray." Or any musical that isn't Sweeney Todd, to be honest.
"I can't blame you for those but Star Wars...seriously?" I smile at how incredulous he sounds.
"I don't have much time for hanging around to watch movies, let alone ones that have never interested me," I say. He gives me an offended look at that, but smiles anyway. "Tell you what, we can sit and watch the lot of them while we're here, if you want," I suggest. It's true, the films have never interested me, but then, I'm not much of a horror fan, either - yet I could quite happily watch the whole series of Star Wars, or a Japanese horror if Cay was there.
"Score. Maybe then you'll get what I mean when I say you're Luke and your gramps is Yoda," he grins at me and I laugh slightly.
"Maybe. Anyway, I'm hungry. Get on with ordering the takeaway, telepathy boy."
"Unless you want the Chinese back in Hollywood to airmail it, I think ordering's gonna be up to you," he says rolling his eyes. I grin at him and kiss him warmly.
"The menus are all by the phone. You know I keep loads around the place at my apartment. It's no different here."
"Lazy..." he mutters, but gets up to order anyway. I follow him down, write out the address of the house for the order and hug him from behind as he calls the Chinese place.
"I want Singapore noodles," I whisper in his ear when I hear the Chinese woman on the other end talk at him.
Half an hour later, I'm opening the door in just my boxers, exchanging a bag of foil boxes for more money than I was expecting to pay. I sit on the living room floor, spreading the boxes out over the low, glass topped coffee table.
"Can you get a couple of plates?" I ask as I begin to lift the card tops off the boxes.
"You do not need plates for takeout," Cay says, rolling his eyes at me for the second time in an hour. I glance up at him and shrug.
"Habit. I wouldn't mind a fork, at least." I've never been good at chop sticks. The ones you get at a sushi bar aren't so bad, ‘cause they're small, but the ones you get with a Chinese are way too big. He heaves a dramatic sigh, flouncing off into the kitchen to get me a fork. Before giving it to me, he licks it, coating it in his spit. Trying not to laugh, he hands it to me, and I smile, completely unfazed.
With a smile, I stick it into my box of noodles and start to eat. He pouts at me and starts to eat as well.
"You're no fun," he tells me and my smile turns into a grin.
"I've had your tongue down my throat too many times to care about you licking my fork," I laugh.
"Then maybe I should stop with the whole tongue thing," he threatens with an evil grin and I give him a fake shocked look as if to say ‘never!'.
"I'll tell my granddad," I whine like a kid, doing my best not to crack a smile as I try to pull off a stroppy face.