Impractical Jokers: [Joker]x[Joker] Collection

Good Read (Joe/Sal)

       Something Sal never seems to have time for any more is reading. In between filming for the show and letting his boyfriend drag him from place to place, doing activity after activity, he finds the that the distance between the time he had last read and the present is really quite startling. That's exactly why he's so proud of himself in this moment.

He'd picked up a random book from the shelf and sat down on the couch. Not three pages in does Joe meander into the room, glancing around as if looking for him before his gaze flits in his direction. The warm smile is indicative of his pleasant mood as he shifts to sit beside his partner, the man leaning over to try and see what Vulcano is doing more closely. Reading, obviously, but reading what? Reading why? It's something he hasn't seen in a while.

"...what're ya doin'?" he finally asks, head tilting in a manner akin to a curious puppy as he leans forwards and tries to get a glimpse of the front cover. No such luck with how Sal is seated, book front facing the couch he sits on.

A slight pucker forms on Sal's face before he replies without looking up, "Baking."

"Oh, I hate you sometimes." Joe's displeasure is evident in his enunciated syllables before he carries on. "I mean, why? What're ya readin' for?"

Sal sighs and lowers the book, folding the corner of the page and shutting it in his lap. As much as he loves Gatto, he does wish he'd be quiet sometimes. On occasion, all he wants is to sit in peace and enjoy the tranquillity before his life succumbs to business once more. He's all about the energy his life presents, adores his current lifestyle, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy the odd wind-down; what he thinks his life would have been more like had Impractical Jokers not taken off.

"Joey, please, I just wanna read," Sal says, green eyes pleading with blue to be quelled of their curiosity. The Joker can see it swimming in his lover's stare, bobbing in the throws of inquisition like a bottle does between waves. Questions aren't something he wants to be dealing with right now. He desperately needs the down time.

To his complete surprise, Joe smiles and nods. "Okay."

And then he lays back. Sal slowly raises his hands, book in tow, to let his boyfriend's head settle in his lap. Large blue eyes stare up at him, adorable smile stretching across his face as he waits for his lover to continue. With a playful roll of his eyes, Vulcano shuffles further down the couch until his back is not so snugly against it, form somewhat slumped, and holds his book with one hand. The other rests on Joe's forehead before threading lightly through his fluffy hair; he doubts people realise how soft it actually is, especially as it's visibly thinner than his or Q's. Their loss.

For a short while (to him), no noise is made. The occasional jingle of a dog collar as one of the pups move rooms; a snuffle or a shift from the man with his head laid on his knee; the tick of the clock whenever he paused in between paragraphs to make sense of the story he had collected in his head so far. But otherwise? Silence.

Then: "Is it good?"

Sal allows him that one. He's been quiet for the better half of forty five minutes and besides, his attention is beginning to waver anyway. Sal is still very much set on reading, can still feel the desire to do so burning away at him, but he needs to take breaks every now and again to regain his focus. He looks down, smoothing fingers down the back of his head as he smiles.

"Yeah. It's a fantasy type deal. Kinda spooky too."

"With a title like 'Hollow City', I assumed it would be."

Sal chuckles, content to sit there in quiet for a few moments before he feels a brow dipping. The Joker senses he already knows the answer to the question that's swirling around in his head as if it's been thrown into a whirlpool and churned out of the other side in nerve-wrecked tatters. He's apprehensive about arousing any kind of displeasure; they may be boyfriends, may be in a relationship, but he knows enough about Joe to know that he's not so fun when he's irked. That, and he usually has more intricate reasons for disliking activities than a lot of others. Still:

"Why don't you read, Joey?"

Immediately, cheeks puff and a soft release of air passes his lips. Impatience. "Ain't got the will. I get restless - I'd rather just watch a movie, then there's always somethin' goin' on."

Vulcano mulls over his partner's answer in silence, head slowly nodding. He likes both, and he can see the validity in Gatto's point; sometimes he has to get through a whole lot of words just to find out a character walked from their front door to their car, but on the other hand, he finds he rather appreciates the more lyrical side that writing has to offer. He knows, in a certain fashion, that his boyfriend does too for his stance on poetry is much different. While he wouldn't sit there and read a book of it, he had produced and been published himself.

"Read it to me, Sally." The demand is sudden but when Sal shifts his gaze to look at Joe's face, he finds he can't refuse. Besides, who would it hurt? He tentatively removes his hand from his head to flip the page before reassigning his gentle touch to his head. Voice begins to cut through the air, flowing like nature does through plant roots. Joe feels himself immediately becoming entranced with the words his lover is reading to him, eyes watching his lips move from beneath the perch of his book before they slowly slip closed.

"I, too, said a silent goodbye, to a place that had changed me forever– and the place that, more than any graveyard, would forever contain the memory, and the mystery, of my grandfather. They were linked inextricably, him and that island, and I wondered, now that they were both gone, if I would ever understand what happened to me..."

Joe fades in and out of listening, focus wavering much like a giddy child who can't sit still for too long in class, ADHD-like impatience flowing through veins like sugar does a kid. Still, the fact that he's not the one reading it does make it a little easier, and it's with pleasure that he listens to the sound of his lover's voice. Slowly, Gatto begins to get immersed in the story; he'd missed the beginning so it had been a little hard to connect the dots, but by the time the first chapter was out of the way and the narrative really took off, he felt just as familiar with the characters as Sal was.

Eventually, three more chapters in (and taking into account that they were quite long chapters, Vulcano's voice begins to stilt a little bit. As if the man is running out of fuel, chin suddenly pointed towards him as eyes slip closed. He's tired. Slowly, Gatto leans up on his elbows and nudges his chin with his nose. The jolt of wakefulness that jars Sal's body makes him chuckle.

"One more page, Sally," Joe mutters, watching as Sal nods and continues on. This continues for some time, as if the man with the book cannot bear to leave the listener in a state of unknowing. That being said, Sal does eventually succumb to slumber, words having blurred together to a point where napping seems to be the only way to make them make any sense again. Joe cautiously gets up from his lap, guides the sleeping man ever-so-slowly into a laying position (his neck will hurt terribly when he wakes if he remains in that slumped position) and, after marking the page they were on, puts the book on the coffee table.

A soft kiss is pressed to his boyfriend's forehead before he stands straight and stretches his legs. It feels good to be up on them again, as if he can use them without them turning to jelly. Even though the other man can't hear him, Joe speaks anyway.

"Thanks for the good read, baby."

Joe doesn't like reading - but he sure does like the sound of his lover's voice.