#another stress relief doodle because goddamn there’s so much things to do-

[robo-milky]

A reward…?

[andromeda---galaxy]

First Meeting

Eyewitness Week! Happy Eyewitness Anniversary! Here is my first contribution. Rated: T Words: 1,986

Lukas doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, but he’s nervous. He feels like he’s outside himself, watching every move he makes. He feels ten times bigger than he really is, like he’s a giant and he’s gonna slam through the walls of the store and destroy everything. Everyone he doesn’t want to notice him will notice him.

 And the one person he wants to probably won’t.

 Lukas clears his throat and walks into the convenience store, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He’s panicking, he’s not acting fucking normal. They’re probably gonna think he’s here to steal or some shit. He’s already essentially stalking someone, so the list of offenses is just piling up.

The first time this happened was completely accidental. He’d come here after school to grab some TV dinners for home when he saw him. That cute boy from school. The one that had already been haunting his every waking moment, visiting him in his dreams. Making him question his entire life and every choice he’d ever made. Lukas has never been so struck by a person in his entire life, and he hates that it’s a boy. Hates that it’s a boy that’s making his stomach turn and his chest go tight. Hates that it’s a boy that makes his breath catch in his throat. A boy, whose lips he’s picturing when his hand travels down his chest and into his boxers when he can’t sleep at night. This boy. This perfect boy. Only him.

 Lukas had seen him for the first time in math class, and he knew as soon as he set eyes on him that he was a goddamn goner. All these feelings he’d been trying to drown shot up to the surface, and before he realized he was staring Mrs. Gibson called out the boy’s name—Philip Shea. Philip said here and leaned back in his seat, looking like some kind of Greek sculpture.

 Lukas catalogued everything about him in that first moment, and longed to hear him speak again. He felt sick, he didn’t know what he was thinking, but something inside him went primal. He only felt want. Need. He wasn’t being rational.

 Lukas walks through the aisles like an idiot and once again, tells himself the first time was accidental. He wanted to pick up some TV dinners because he knew his dad wasn’t gonna be home for a couple of days. And like some kind of sick cosmic destiny, he saw Philip in the next aisle, staring at the cereal like he didn’t know what it was. Lukas nearly choked on his own tongue, almost tripped over a wet floor sign trying to hide from him.

 The second time wasn’t exactly an accident. He’s starting to let himself accept that.

 He’d gone there the next day to check if it was a one-off coincidence that they were both there or something Philip did every day. And once again, he saw Philip there, this time in the snacks aisle, looking just as lost. Lukas watched him, well aware of how creepy he was being following Philip around, well aware that his attraction was eating away at his insides. But he liked the way Philip walked. The way he chewed on his lower lip. The way he adjusted his jacket around his shoulders. Lukas could imagine taking that jacket off of him. Running his hands down his arms.

 Jesus Christ.

 He’d come back twice more just to make sure this was an actual routine, the clerk nearly destroying his whole damn plan by yelling at him across the store and asking why he’d been in there so much lately. But Philip had his camera with him every time Lukas saw him, which gave him some ideas as to how to approach this whole thing, if he gained the courage. He practiced what he wanted to say that night in front of the bathroom mirror.

 “Hey, I know you,” Lukas said, pointing at himself in the mirror. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, starting over. “Hey, I’ve seen you before,” he said, trying to feign surprise. He watched his own face fall and shook his head. “Idiot.”

 He braced his hands on his hips. He could be slick, he fucking knew he could be slick.

 The practicing failed and he went to school repeating what he wanted to say in his head over and over, like a prayer, like a curse, like something he didn’t know if he should be doing but was steadfastly going to do anyway. Because he had to. Because he didn’t know why. Because he needed to hear Philip talk to him. Say his name.

 Here and now he walks through the cooler aisle and sees Philip over by the cereal again.

 Lukas can’t think things he knows are true. Those things, those things he knows but he doesn’t want to know. The thoughts shove their way in sometimes, present themselves like an old movie projected on a blank wall, and every time he thinks about Philip everything goes red on the back of his eyelids. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE, BOY. Words he can’t apply to himself. Words he isn’t allowed to apply to himself. Words he hopes he can apply to Philip because Lukas is fucked up, lost, absolutely destroyed, out of his fucking mind. None of it makes sense to him, and he wants to cry.

 He really wants to talk to Philip. He can’t stop thinking about his mouth. His voice. The way he moves. And Lukas needs to man the fuck up and let himself fall into this world for a moment, just a moment, before the real world forces it to skid to a halt.

 He wants a world where he can talk to Philip how he wants and it’ll be okay. But it’s impossible. It’ll never happen. It’s just a dream.

 Lukas walks over, completely fake casual, to where Philip is standing close to the ICEE machine. His heart is raging in his chest and he does this stupid fucking double take when he’s close enough to speak to him, stopping in his tracks.

 “Hey,” he says, willing his voice not to waver. “I know you, right?”

 Philip looks at him, his face perfectly serene, and Jesus Christ he’s one of the most beautiful people Lukas has ever seen. Stop that stop that. “I think so,” he says. “You’re in my math class right?”

 And English and speech and I see you walking to gym but that’s beside the point. “Yeah, that’s where,” Lukas says. He holds out his hand. “Lukas Waldenbeck.”

 Philip takes his hand and shakes it, seventeen small explosions going off in Lukas’s head before Philip lets go. “Philip Shea,” Philip says. “You’re the one that drives that dirt bike, right?”

 Lukas’s heart does a flip and he stuffs his hands in his pockets again. Fuck, he’s noticed me for real. “Yeah, that’s me,” he says, happy for the perfect in. “I’m, uh—into motocross, you heard of it?”

 “Yeah,” Philip says, almost too fast. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

 Oh fuck he likes motocross could he be any fucking better than he already is?? Lukas is breathing hard and he coughs to try to cover it, which makes him sound even more insane. “Yeah,” he says, stupidly. He points at Philip’s camera. “You, uh—take a lot of pictures?”

 Philip looks down at it and smiles when he looks back up, shrugging a little bit. “Oh, this thing is old. Doesn’t do much, like…one picture every ten minutes. But yeah, I…I like taking pictures, yeah.”

 Lukas’s mind races. “Hey, I—I have this channel, uh, where I upload videos of me on my bike and shit, doing jumps, whatever—” ugh you’re fucking it up, you sound like an idiot, idiot, you goddamn idiot. “Anyways, uh, it’s hard to get good shots when it’s just me.”

 “Yeah, I’d think so,” Philip says, but he’s smiling wider now.

 “You, uh, you interested in shooting some footage one of these days?” Lukas asks, and he actually digs the toe of his shoe into the non-existent dirt because they’re inside a fucking store. “You could, uh—use my phone, since your camera is old. You could take videos with my phone.” Ohhhh my God.

 “Sure,” Philip says. “Why not? I don’t have much going on.”

 “Savage,” Lukas says, a bubble of air in his chest bursting with relief. “Lemme get your number so I can tell you when and where.” Slick. Well, semi-slick.

 “Okay,” Philip says, stepping closer as Lukas pulls out his phone. The proximity is insane. “917-334-5876.”

 “Awesome, okay, lemme text you,” Lukas says, his heart in his throat and everything, everything flashing through his mind in some kind of messed up flipbook. All the things he’s ever thought about Philip. Including the thoughts he isn’t allowed to have. Heat creeps up his neck and he hopes Philip doesn’t see the red there. He quickly types out hey it’s Lukas and sends it to Philip’s number. He hears a text tone go off.

 “Got it,” Philip says, taking his phone out and waving it a little in the air.

 He’s really fucking cute

 Lukas clears his throat. “Great, man, thank you so much. I can pay you in contraband beer and uh, cheese doodles. Or other snacks, I don’t know, we’ve got a bunch of crap in the house.” Dumb dumb dumb dumb

 “Maybe pizza,” Philip says, grinning.

 Lukas is struck by him. His brown eyes, so big and gorgeous. That hair. His smile. He just has an air about him, something that’s drawing Lukas in. He wants to be as close as possible. “Perfect idea,” Lukas says, laughing a little bit.

 Philip laughs too and they both look down at their feet.

 “So yeah,” Lukas says, looking back up at him. “How’s Friday sound? If Gibson doesn’t load us up with eighteen more study guides.”

 “Jesus,” Philip laughs. “You had a problem with those too?”

 “I barely got through them,” Lukas says, shaking his head. “Though procrastination heavily played into my troubles.”

 Philip laughs again and Lukas wants to hear that noise every day for the rest of his life. What?? “Yeah, same here,” Philip says. “I feel like they do it specifically to stress us out.”

 “They definitely do,” Lukas says. “But whatever, I don’t care, we’ll hang out that day either way.” His heart rattles a little bit. “I mean. If you’re free.”

 “Yeah, I’m free,” Philip says. “I’ll ride my bike over wherever.”

 Another opportunity. “You want me to come pick you up?” he asks. “You can ride on the back of my bike. I’m a good driver.” IDIOT.

 “You sure?” Philip asks. “You don’t have to—”

 “Nah, it’ll be easier,” Lukas says, already thinking of what it’ll feel like to have Philip behind him on the bike. Chill, Waldenbeck, Jesus Christ. If dad could hear these fucking thoughts he’d send you away. “I can pick you up and take you home after.”

 “Awesome,” Philip says.

 “Cool,” Lukas says.

 There’s an entirely comfortable silence as they both look at each other, nodding. Then Lukas realizes that what he’s doing could be more qualified as gazing, so he tries to snap himself back. “Okay, great, I’ll, uh—I’ll definitely text you. But I’ll see you tomorrow anyways, in…in class.” Jesus H. Christ.

 “See you then, Lukas,” Philip says, smiling and nodding at him again.

 I really like how my name sounds coming out of your mouth. His cheeks heat up again. “See you,” Lukas says, and makes for the exit fast as he can, well aware that he’s clearly leaving with nothing, which could totally be a sign of this weird ass setup, and he hopes Philip doesn’t notice.

 Lukas walks back out into the heat of the day and grins to himself, shaking. He can’t fucking wait for Friday.