[ Nate isn't even annoyed because it's so overwhelmingly absurd. It's the future by about five-hundred years, he has a part-time job working for the mob, everyone has powers, and he's sitting in the apartment of someone whose world is overrun with aliens smoking weed like he's a teenager. The instant Ian's shoulders start shaking Nate knows, is already chuckling himself, is having to take sharp breaths to try and stifle the sound before one of them breaks. ]
Okay, that's- that's-
[ The giddiness hits him hard and Nate starts giggling, hunched over his lap and quaking, lightheadedness rippling through like the pleasant sway of tipsiness without the crushing aftershock of hangover.
He fumbles loosely for one of Ian's shoulders and squeezes. ]
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Okay, that's- that's-
[ The giddiness hits him hard and Nate starts giggling, hunched over his lap and quaking, lightheadedness rippling through like the pleasant sway of tipsiness without the crushing aftershock of hangover.
He fumbles loosely for one of Ian's shoulders and squeezes. ]
Stop laughing.