#gotta contribute to the bday energy

[choupichoups]

And this you'll find in fiction :: 1/1 ::

A persistent chill at the tips of his toes wakes him.

He makes a lazy attempt to shove the sheets further down, all the while using as little movement as possible. Newsflash: it doesn’t work, and he’s stuck with a niggling awareness to the cool temperature inside the room, out of place with the scorching heat from outside. 

The first thing he hears is the sound of Lucas’ alarm— knows it’s Lucas’ simply because Eliott would never set up such an irritating chime as his daily wake up call. It rings loud above the humming of the portable air conditioning unit Lucas and his roommates have been recently obsessed with.

The first thing he smells is something homely, something familiar, and he’s hit with a creeping nostalgia, welcoming that same feeling he gets whenever visiting the bakery around the corner that he and his parents used to frequent.

The first thing he sees is Lucas— eyes closed, breathing even. Eliott’s chest warms, forgetting about the cold touch on his body as Lucas snuffles, snuggling closer into Eliott’s space, chasing contact when Eliott jostles them a little too much. 

With one finger, he runs a soft line along the bridge of Lucas’ nose, watching it wrinkle at the disturbance. He doesn’t have to wait long until those pretty eyes flutter open, sleep darkened blues blinking in gradual awareness. 

“Hi.” Eliott’s voice barely makes a sound, but Lucas responds just as sweetly, head tilting into the dips of Eliott’s hand. His flushed cheeks fit perfectly inside Eliott’s hold, as if Lucas truly were made for his touch alone. It’s a phenomenon Eliott continuously marvels at— how he and Lucas are vastly different, two puzzle pieces belonging to a separate whole, yet when put together, somehow, somehow, they manage to fight their mould. And they fit. They fit so well that attempting to pry the other apart is a challenge taken only by an utter idiot. 

“Morning,” Lucas mumbles into his pillow, eyes falling shut when Eliott starts massaging a hand through his hair. Eliott basks in the serenity of the moment. 

Which is a good thing, apparently, because when Lucas next opens his eyes, they’re wide and panicked. He gasps too, the sound of it a tad bit concerning for Eliott’s muddled brain. He means to ask what’s wrong, arms ready to comfort and lips ready to form soothing words.

The last thing he expects is the stunning, albeit cushiony, force of a pillow being shoved right into his face. Eliott lets his body fall back dramatically, blinking rapidly when the pillow is removed and Lucas scrambles to pet all over Eliott’s face, squeaky apologies pouring out his lips. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Lucas fumbles, “uh, go back to sleep.” He grabs the sheets around them and starts tucking the corners around Eliott as if swaddling him like an infant would instantly knock Eliott back to sleep. 

“What.” Now fully awake, Eliott no longer feels all that chilly. It’s starting to feel quite warm, actually, so he squirms around to try and escape his blanket entrapment. “No, I can’t go back to sleep now.”

“Yes, you can,” Lucas insists, moving on to fluffing the pillows up around Eliott’s head. He’s mumbling something under his breath but when Eliott leans up to catch the words better, two firm hands on his chest keep Eliott where he is. “Stay right there.” 

He doesn’t get to respond. Lucas rushes out of the room quick as lightning, tripping over the bedding as he gets out. Eliott laughs at him, freeing one arm from the sheets so he can sit up. There’s a clanging sound in the kitchen but Eliott figures Lucas would call out to him if any assistance is needed. 

“Oh!” A dull thunk of metal on counter. The light padding of quick footsteps. Lucas returns inside the bedroom empty handed, a whirlwind of loose shirts and wild hair and bright eyes. “Happy birthday!” he breathes out, jumping into bed with a loud kiss to Eliott’s forehead. The latter laughs at the ridiculousness of it, fitting warm hands around Lucas’ waist, dragging him down for a proper kiss.

But Lucas is gone again before Eliott could even process the weight shifting off his lap. 

Denied of kisses? On his very birthday? How criminal. 

“Lucas!” He calls out once he’s decided that his boyfriend’s been gone long enough. “Come back here.” 

He gets back a muffled, “Hold on!” And when Lucas returns for the second time, he’s holding a small plate of what looks like fruit tart in between two hands. “I’m running a little behind schedule, but we can’t miss the breakfast cake.”

Eliott’s not going to be the one to tell him that that’s not a cake. “So there’re gonna be a lunch cake?” he asks, mostly joking. He chokes on a laugh when Lucas gives him a look that says, duh, what do you take me for? “Baby—”

“I got this from that bakery you like,” Lucas continues on, carefully sitting on one of Eliott’s spread legs so that the tart is held deliciously under his nose. “And there’s some croissants and other stuff in the kitchen for later.” No wonder the apartment smells like the bakery itself. “For now you can blow out your first candle.”

Eliott just smiles at him, indulgent. “How many candles do I get?” 

“Three.”

“Three wishes, huh?”

Lucas beams, nodding. “Whatever you want.” 

Eliott blows the candle out, wishing for time to stand still. He knows it’s irrational. “What’s this schedule thing you’re on about?”

He watches Lucas meticulously remove the candle from the middle of the tart, brushing off any drops of wax left behind. “I was actually gonna wake you up earlier,” Lucas says, cutting into the dessert with a fork. “But I fell asleep after the bakery.” 

Eliott snorts, dutifully opening his mouth to eat the piece Lucas holds up for him. It’s too big a bite, so he can’t respond right away. Lucas probably does it on purpose.

“Shut up, it’s your fault. Looking all cozy in bed.” Lucas reaches up the corner of Eliott’s lips and wipes off a bit of cream, popping his thumb in his own mouth to lick it off right after. It’s an absent gesture, Eliott’s sure Lucas doesn’t mean to look half as alluring doing it as he does. But, well, Eliott’s only human.

He hums distractedly, unable to recall what they’d been talking about. 

“Do you like this?” Lucas asks after swallowing his own mouthful of tart. 

Another hum, and then Eliott presses their lips together, licking into Lucas’ mouth, tasting sugar and fruit and Lucas. It’s a divine mix, he thinks. The sweetest thing to ever settle on his tongue. It’s a pity he’s discovered this so early in life— nothing else would ever quench his craving quite like this one from now on. 

“Yeah,” he whispers into Lucas' lips, unwilling to part just yet. He nibbles on those soft lips, can’t get enough of the pliant give under his teeth. “I like this.” 

Lucas leans back with a quiet giggle. “The cake, Eliott.” 

Eliott only shakes his head, smile so wide his jaw aches with it. Reaching up, he holds Lucas’ chin between thumb and forefinger, gently steering their lips back together. He feels Lucas reach behind himself to settle the plate on the nightstand. 

“The cake is good too, I guess.” 

Lucas' laughter is music.

Eliott tugs at the back of his knee until Lucas throws his legs over both of Eliott’s, settling properly over his lap as Lucas’ hands card gently through Eliott’s sheet mussed hair. Lucas leans down, kissing Eliott close mouthed before murmuring, “We’ve gotta finish breakfast. There’s a long day ahead of you, mister Demaury.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Can I use my first wish, though?” 

“Who said I’m the one granting your wishes?”

Eliott’s eyes pop open, offended. “Who else?” 

“I don’t know, the universe? Fate? Deities?” Lucas moves to get off of him but Eliott holds him tight, pouting miserably. “You are an actual spoiled brat.” 

“Says you.”

“What?”

“I said I love you.” 

Lucas eyes him dubiously. “I love you too.” 

“Great! So can I have my wish now?” Eliott grins at Lucas’ answering groan. He’d known it was a winning battle from the start. 

“Jesus Christ, okay, fine, what does your highness want?” 

Eliott’s grin softens into a close lipped smile, hands gliding from Lucas’ sides up to his face. His hands have held Lucas this way a hundred times, yet his touch is no less reverent. 

“Can we stay here for a while? I just want to look at you.” He’s aware of how sappy that sounds, but any and all future ribbing about this moment is worth the blush that colours Lucas’ cheeks right this minute. His smile is small, shy, like he can’t believe Eliott would say something like that. It’s a work in progress, convincing Lucas just how beautiful he is. Eliott would work on it forever if he has to. 

Lucas nods, the curve of his forearms a gentle cradle around Eliott’s neck, foreheads pressed close together. Eliott keeps his eyes wide open even as Lucas’ slide close. One hand stays on Lucas’ cheek, thumb brushing aimlessly around a smooth cheekbone. It takes him back to that morning after their first kiss, when he’d been granted the privilege of seeing Lucas soft with sleep for the very first time. Eliott is yet to figure out how to keep from losing his breath at the sight of it. 

But of course Lucas has to ruin the moment eventually. “Not that I don’t enjoy this but I really do have plans for us.” 

Eliott groans, “Can’t we just stay here forever?” 

There’s an absolutely wonderful smile that breaks out on Lucas’ face and Eliott is, at once, found weak against it. Goddamn it. 

“No, silly. I have a list and everything.” 

“You made a list?” 

Lucas nods, flopping over Eliott to search underneath his pillow near the headboard. He brandishes a crumpled sheet of paper with a triumphant sound that has Eliott feeling gooey with adoration. “Here, look!” 

“Wow, that’s a long list.” 

“The plan is to romance the hell out of you.” 

“Right. Lucas Lallemant. King of romance.” 

“I don’t appreciate your tone but anyway.” Lucas tries to get off again and Eliott is getting real tired of it so he tumbles them back into bed, using his weight to keep Lucas in place even as the latter squirms and laughs out weak protests. “Eliott! Come on, there’s romancing to be done!” 

“No offence, baby, but the only romance you own is your hoodie.” Eliott kisses Lucas’ cheek as his mouth opens and closes wordlessly, shocked at being called out so rudely. 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

“Let me see that list again.”

“No, you’ve lost that privilege.” Lucas turns on his side, hiding the piece of paper in his arms. 

“Please, Lucas,” Eliott laughs, “I’m joking.” He tries to turn his boyfriend over but Lucas resists, holding tight onto the list even when Eliott’s fingers crawl ticklishly over his sides. 

“Don’t!”

“Show me the list!”

“No!”

“It’s literally my birthday and you’re denying me things.”

“Birthdays don’t mean a free pass!’

They tussle around in bed, cackling up at the ceiling, giggling into each other’s space. The room is sweet with their leftover breakfast, warm with their mingling breaths, soft with careful touches, and as they settle down on their sides, Lucas a firm, reassuring shape against Eliott’s chest, Eliott thinks about a version of himself from five years ago. Three years ago. One year ago. 

The one who wishes for the kind of love in the story books. The one who hopes for the happy ending in the movies. The one who craves to feel the connection they talk about in love songs.

“Eiffel tower? Lucas, come on, it’s sweltering outside.” 

“Romance, Eliott. Romance.” 

“I can think of more romantic things to do without leaving this bed.” Eliott fits his lips over the gentle curve of Lucas’ neck, the tip of his nose nuzzling against smooth skin. 

Lucas’ shoulder lifts slightly at the ticklish sensation. “I bet you can but I’m not asking for your opinion, am I?” 

“Okay, I’m hurt.” 

“I’m sorry, happy birthday.”

“You can’t just wish me a happy birthday every time you say something mean, Lucas. That’s not how it works.” 

You’ll have that, he wants to tell his younger self. The one you dream of in the loneliest nights.

He feels Lucas shake with silent laughter. Watches as the beautiful creature of his dreams lets the list fall on the sheets, turns around in Eliott’s arms, and catches his lips in a kiss searing enough to rival the atrocious heat outside. “Does that work?” 

Because this.

“If you do it again, it might.” 

This story is his reality.