Work Text:
"I don't know what the hell you think you're doing here," Gennaro says lowly. Alan feels uncomfortable, crammed into the backseat next to Ellie, watching Gennaro and Malcolm fight. At least, he's fairly sure they're fighting.
"I know quite well why I'm here." Malcolm leans closer to the center console, smirk painted across his face.
"You're here to advise me," Gennaro rolls his shoulders, looking tense under Malcolm's calculating gaze; Alan can understand why, "not play goddamned mind games." The lawyer pushes a hand through his hair, adding more to his frazzled appearance. "I've got five percent of this company and a responsibility to make sure that Hammond has done his job responsibly."
Alan can sympathize with the kid, somewhat. Even if he thinks the younger man is perhaps a little aggravating, with his pompous attitude and dollar signs in his eyes. At least Gennaro is trying to understand the risks and dangers present in a park like this, unlike Wu, Arnold, and especially Hammond.
Dealing with Malcolm's cryptic attitude and severe overabundance of personality is hard enough from the outside looking in. The thought of his livelihood hanging in the balance while the chaotician prattles on and on in circles sends a shock of annoyance through Alan. Truly, it's undoubtedly a miracle that Gennaro hasn't strangled Malcolm yet.
He tries to share a look with Ellie beside him, to communicate a sense of comradery through the awkwardness of being between two men like Malcolm and Gennaro, but he can't quite catch her eye. She looks flustered, eyes flicking between the two men. Alan looks away, determined not to pry. He remembers being her age and dealing with odd attraction. Certainly that must be it.
"Now you goddamn come here—" Gennaro reaches over the console and fists a hand into the collar of Malcolm's black shirt. He tugs roughly, dragging the willowy mathematician across the center console and— oh!
Okay, that makes sense, Alan thinks as Gennaro and Malcolm slam together in a desperate kiss.