#it's great to feel fancy when u eat. makes u pretend ur eating better. u kno.

[equalseleventhirds]

friends. romans. not romans. whoever u r. listen. listen 2 me and this life hack.

buy capers (if u like the taste. if not then rip and sorry. i like them very much.)

trader joes has a p big jar of 'em for like, $3. they are delicious and will last forever also will make you feel like u r fancy and eating a proper meal somehow.

fifth night of buttered noodles bcos u have nothing else? toss a few capers on there.

putting fake bacon bits on toast bcos it's basically like a breakfast? capers. (also toss all that under the broiler for a hot second. careful not to burn.)

eating scraps of cheese in the middle of the night bcos u hyperfocused on a project and no longer have frozen burritos for emergencies? add capers. now practically charcuterie.

got those frozen burritos again? capers on 'em. for funsies. inauthentic but fancy as fuck.

(while ur at it, get one of those squeezy bottles of lemon juice. yes i know it's not as good as fresh lemons. but sometimes you will forget about your lemons and they will go bad right when u remembered them for a dish ur halfway through cooking, and then where will u be? squeezy lemon juice. plus it's fun to add to things and feel fancy. 'really brightens up the whole thing' you can say about your cheese scraps with lemon juice.)

[misora-msby]

embarrassing moments with inarizaki

inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)

Kita Shinsuke

firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.

he’s a perfect man and we all know it.

anyways

you two were having a nice dinner out together. 

it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today

but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you

he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you

but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not

you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying! 

why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?

midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho

“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”

oh.

right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.

“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.

“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”

GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????

Ojiro Aran

another man with next to no flaws.

but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.

so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.

all the girls in class are gathered around a table

he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video

but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!

plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu

he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.

“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”

all the girls gasp.

he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating

pda to this level aint bad either

especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu

“ojiro aran.”

why is your voice behind him

he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.

to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.

“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.

“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”

“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!” 

hes so funny i swear

the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better 

Miya Atsumu

it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf

he was very much in love with u 

the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too

so here comes valentines day

last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.

you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO 

but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”

he reaches school and plops into his seat.

there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it

“the hell’s this?!”

“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.

especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.

“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”

“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”

“that’s like receivin’ their love!”

“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”

atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.

it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.

it was perfect

but he couldn’t accept this!

“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”

“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.

“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”

“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”

“huh.”

osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”

atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”

osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”

you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”

tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”

you: “you just said-”

“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”

“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.

“BB PLSSSSSS”

he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage

Miya Osamu

osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.

this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan

he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner

imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit

of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))

and today’s your third anniversary!!

so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal

i’m talkin

garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert

mm yummy

you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist

“yes, ‘samu?” 

“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin

“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”

but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.

“osamu, you can let go for now.”

“don’t feel like it.”

“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”

“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”

you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie 

u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he 

he burps

that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there

“ew! ‘samu!!”

his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him

“want another?” he starts teasing

“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”

“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”

Suna Rintarou

you two were taking the train home today

it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.

sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok

it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner

luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side. 

you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time

silence is v comfy.

he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts

suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up

“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage

“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.

suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho

(he’s on his phone as usual)

probably starting some fights on twitter

he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.

“rin.” 

why is your voice right in front of him?

“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”

suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.

he looks up and notices you had moved.

you’re giggling

the granny’s giggling

atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh

“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato

he’s so embarrassed.

Ginjima Hitoshi

sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart

they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home

but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe

you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.

“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter

he cant help but stiffen up a bit 

why are u so cute and cheery today

the 2nd years already know what to do.

“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu

“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna

“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu

“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.” 

aran’s noticed what’s going on,

“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.” 

“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.

he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.

“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok

“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.

yes

his wallet, not the money

“...” “...”

“excuse me, sir. this is...”

he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.

“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.

“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”

he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording

[moonb-eam]

skater boy au part ii

back by popular demand!!!!

(some folks did ask for this and i was so happy to write it - i just hope y’all like it!!!)

part i

part ii

He gets endless shit from Yann about it. All through their lunch, over the course of their walk to Lucas’s street, and then over text five hours later.

His phone buzzes as he stands in front of his mirror, pulling at the material of his t-shirt and pretending like the mess of clothes piled onto his bed doesn’t exist.

y4z4s: lol how many times have u changed

y4z4s: lulu don’t worry ur beautiful no matter what <3333

lucallemant: die in a ditch <3333

y4z4s: LOL ur so grumpy u r nervous!!!!!!

lucallemant: and u r annoying 

lucallemant: shouldn’t you worry about your own love life

lucallemant: oh that’s right it’s because you don’t have one

y4z4s: uh huh

y4z4s: u can send me pics if u want and i’ll vote on them

y4z4s: no forget it i already kno wear the black jeans they make ur ass look nice

y4z4s: luluuuuuu

y4z4s: lucas

y4z4s: did u hear me the black jeans

y4z4s: show demaury the goods

lucallemant: you’re gross go away

Lucas throws his phone down onto his bed, ignoring another rapid succession of buzzes.

He doesn’t care about dressing up for Eliott. He doesn’t. Eliott knows what Lucas looks like. He’s not going to act any differently if Lucas wears one thing or another. Eliott will probably show up wearing a stupid beanie anyway, and somehow looking completely perfect, because he’s just like that.

Whatever. He’s trying to keep perspective. Eliott is Eliott. And that means that Lucas must be one in a line of hundreds of people Eliott can date. 

Perspective. As in trying not to act like the very thought of it, the memory of the way Eliott’s mouth formed the words, I really like you, doesn’t make him want to throw himself into a swimming pool.

But perspective also tells him that, yeah, there might be hundreds of other people, but they’re not the ones going on a date tonight, are they?

So maybe Lucas does put on the black jeans. And maybe he does check himself out before he leaves his bedroom. Maybe he does smile to himself when he sees Eliott’s, downstairs! text, slipping out of the front door before Mika can ask him where he’s going.

He takes a breath before he opens the front door to his building, schooling his face to something neutral.

He’s glad he does it, because he’s not ready for what awaits him when he opens the door.

Eliott, leaning against a lamp post, wearing a button-up shirt with half of its buttons undone, hair wild and eyes low, lit up in orange and gold from the sun just beginning to set. 

He looks…cool. Unapproachable. Like the Eliott that Lucas sees at school. Like the sort of person who can waltz through life on the tops of clouds. Like the sort of person Lucas could only ever sneak glances at across rooms. 

But he looks up, sees Lucas, and his face splits into a big, toothy smile, and the effect is gone. Lucas doesn’t know what’s worse. The beautiful, unapproachable Eliott, or the Eliott who smiles like a dork.

“What,” Lucas calls out to him, across the stretch of empty sidewalk between them, “the hell are you wearing?”

Eliott glances down at himself, tugs on the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t like it?”

He doesn’t move from the lamp post so Lucas goes to him, short steps crossing that empty stretch of sidewalk until he’s close enough to get a good look at Eliott, to see how his cheeks are a bit pink, how his eyes are grey-green in the light.

Lucas is close enough to touch him, so he does, poking him once in the chest, where the shirt is gaping open. “Showing a lot of cleavage, don’t you think?”

“What can I say, I know what the boys like.” Eliott laughs, and before Lucas can pull his hand away he’s grabbing onto his finger, then folding Lucas’s hand into his own and tugging him forward, closer, closer, until Lucas is pressed right up against him, wrapped in his arms.

It happens so quickly, Lucas not touching Eliott, then touching him only a little bit, then being so surrounded by Eliott that it’s overwhelming. Lucas can feel the hard planes of his chest, can feel how warm his skin is, can smell him, and he smells a bit like cologne, something fresh and masculine, and a bit like cigarettes, and a bit like sweat and Lucas kinda wants to lick his neck and oh what the fuck where did that thought come from—

Lucas is not prepared for this.

He can feel himself locking up, arms straight down at his sides, neck stiff, eyes open wide. It’s just so much, is the thing. So much when Lucas has spent the better part of a year convincing himself that he doesn’t like Eliott, that Eliott is nothing more than a well-worn fantasy to pick up during boring classes and long bus rides. 

But Eliott is here, now, holding him, nuzzling into Lucas’s hair and sighing as though they’ve done this before, as though they’ve been doing this, touching like this, when all of their interactions before were handshakes bound in barbed wire.

“You smell nice,” Eliott tells him, voice close to Lucas’s ear, breath warm on his neck. 

Lucas shivers. He’s thrown off by the hug, by the contact and affection, and he’s getting a little lost in it, thinking about falling into Eliott without abandon, here we go—

He just starts to lift his hands, fingers reaching for Eliott’s back, when Eliott steps away, hands sliding away from Lucas and Lucas’s own arms are back at his sides and they’re staring at each other in the golden light, Lucas’s entire body a live wire of tension.

“So, are you hungry?” Eliott asks, bouncing on the spot. “There’s this cool place I’ve been to with the guys before; they do like, street food? It’s basically a fancy food truck but it’s so good, I swear.”

“Uh, yeah.” Lucas glances up and down the street, eyes dancing everywhere except right at Eliott’s face. “I could eat.”

“Cool.” Eliott steps away and bends towards the lamp post, and picking up his skateboard, tucking it under his arm.

“Oh no,” Lucas says, voice coming back to him, because really, “you did not bring that.”

“What? Celeste?” Eliott holds his board out and of fucking course he has a name for his board because he’s not cool, he’s a fucking loser. “She comes everywhere with me.”

“Oh, Celeste.” Lucas lets his eyes go wide. “I mean, if you’d rather be alone with her, I can go back inside.”

“At least she doesn’t make fun of me. She supports me. Literally and figuratively.”

“Does she sleep in your bed at night, too?”

“No.” Eliott’s eyes cut sharply to Lucas, mouth quirked in a teasing half-smile. “But you can, if you want.”

Lucas nearly chokes on his own tongue, only just managing to mask it with a cough into his fist.

Eliott looks far too pleased with himself.

“In your fucking dreams, Demaury,” Lucas says, and he doesn’t think he sounds that convincing so he turns away from Eliott, starts walking left, towards downtown. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

“Yeah,” Eliott yells after him, and Lucas can hear his board rolling across the pavement. “Except you’re going the wrong way.”

It is with great dignity that Lucas turns around and strides past where Eliott is waiting and flips him off with both hands.

Eliott takes him towards the area of town where the skatepark is, but they drift into a neighbourhood Lucas isn’t familiar with, one that has hip-looking bars mixed in with old apartment buildings and small parks.

It’s busy on the street, as everywhere in Paris is on a summer night, patios heaving and laughter carrying across a gentle breeze.

Everywhere Lucas looks, there are couples: walking hand-in-hand, sitting next to each other at tiny round tables, kissing on street corners.

He and Eliott pass one couple doing just that, Eliott holding his board under his arm again, telling Lucas how he and Idriss and Sofiane come here all the time, and Lucas makes a face at them, partially because he’s disgusted, and partially because he is, the tiniest bit, envious. There’s about a foot of space between him and Eliott. There has been ever since they started walking, and while the conversation is flowing a lot better since Lucas was able to get a hold of his few remaining brain cells, they probably look like they’re just friends.

It’s Lucas’s fault maybe, because he’s in his default snarking-Eliott mode, but it does make him wonder.

“Lucas?” 

Eliott has a hand resting at the small of Lucas’s back, and he’s gently guiding him across the street, to where Lucas can see a truck parked at the side of an empty parking lot, with a bright neon sign on the front of it. There’s a line of people waiting for food and at least half a dozen picnic tables set up in the parking lot, surrounded by strings of fairy lights. Lucas can hear music coming faintly from the inside of the truck. Something he can’t place.

He has to admit, this is not bad.

Eliott’s hand has dropped from his back but he’s grinning when he looks down at Lucas. “Now I know you have high standards, Lallemant—”

Lucas snorts.

“—but the food here is amazing. Trust me. It’s Moroccan food that even Idriss approves of, and he says everything is shit except what his mom makes.”

“If I had high standards,” Lucas says cheerily, patting Eliott on the chest, “then I wouldn’t be on a date with you.”

Eliott cackles at that, tipping his head back, and Lucas tucks his pleased smile away into his own shoulder. 

“You’re so mean,” Eliott says, but he’s smiling, smiling at Lucas like Lucas is the best thing he’s ever seen. It wreaks havoc on Lucas’s heart.

So Lucas coughs, breaks his gaze away from Eliott’s, and goes to the truck to find a menu. 

Eliott follows him, stopping behind Lucas in line and bending down to murmur in his ear, “Do you want to share a few things?”

Lucas is vibrating at a low frequency at this point, but he says yes, actually, he would because there are about three things on the menu he wants to try, so that’s what they do.

They find two spots at the end of a picnic bench, where the only other occupants are two girls sharing a big plate of food, laughing when one of them manages to get a glob of hummus on her chin, the other one wiping it off with a napkin.

Eliott asks if they’re saving the table, and the girls say, no, that’s fine, all yours, and Eliott and Lucas sit across from each other at the opposite end.

“So, do you like it?” Eliott asks, face eager.

Lucas nods. “Yeah,” he says, glancing around the parking lot, then to the truck, where he can see a young woman and a man cooking, laughing, and the other young woman who took their orders hollering something back to them. “It’s cool.”

Eliott grins. “Cool.”

“Seems like the type of place you would come to,” Lucas continues, because he can’t just leave things. “Being such a hipster and all.”

Eliott genuinely looks offended. “I am not a hipster.”

“Oh no? Mr. Skateboard Artist? Your music taste would beg to differ.”

“When,” Eliott’s eyes are narrowed, “have you ever heard my music taste?”

Lucas pauses, takes a slow slip of the beer he ordered. “I’ve seen some of your instagram stories.” He shrugs, takes another sip of beer. “That’s not a surprise, you can see who watches them.”

“I never really look at that.”

Lucas sighs. “Of course you don’t.”

Eliott leans onto his forearms, his body stretching across the table. “Do you ever listen to the songs? After you see them on my story?”

Yes. “No.”

Eliott’s eyes are lethal. “So if I said that there’s one song that I posted because it reminds me of you, you would have no idea which one?”

Lucas swallows. Tries to control his exhale. “Let me guess. It’s that song called ‘Mean’, the one Daphy always listens to.”

Eliott shakes his head. He leans back on the bench, pulling a cigarette out from behind his ear and lighting it, smoke curling around his face. “No,” is all he says. “It’s not that.”

Their food arrives, four steaming plates dropped at their table that have Lucas’s mouth watering.

They both dig in, hands getting messy, satisfied groans coming from deep in their throats.

“Alright,” Lucas concedes after he bites into a spicy dish that sends him straight to the heavens. “This food is incredible. Not a bad spot, Demaury.”

“So glad it meets your approval, Lucas.”

The way he says his name, the way his voice sounds as it holds the word Lucas, makes Lucas shift awkwardly on the bench. Maybe it’s the food, or the beer, or the atmosphere of the night around them, but Lucas feels good. So good his few brain cells have decided to take off. That’s the only explanation for him saying, “I’m happy you asked me.”

Eliott’s in the middle of drinking from his own beer bottle, and a bit dribbles out onto his chin. “What?” Eliott asks, laughing, wiping his chin. “Do you mean to say that you, Lucas Lallemant, are happy to be out with me on a date?”

“Nope. Didn’t say that.” Lucas can feel himself smiling, the same way he did back in the skatepark, unable to control it. “You’re hearing things.”

“Sure, sure.” They’re smiling at each other over the table, over the nearly-empty plates and the pile of napkins. “I’m happy you said yes.” Eliott says, and it’s Lucas’s turn to almost choke on his beer. “I wanted to ask you out for so long, you know. But you…you make me nervous.”

He says it so easily, like it costs nothing to be honest, like he’s not aware that the two girls have quieted their conversation and are clearly eavesdropping.

“I make you nervous?” Lucas sputters. “Are you not Eliott Demaury, resident golden boy of the school? What have you done with him?”

“I don’t think of myself as…” Eliott trails off and waves a hand at Lucas. “I’m no golden boy, or anything. I’m not. And you make me nervous because I really like you. Because I think you’re really cool.”

Listen.

Lucas has a science concentration. He genuinely, without irony, loves space, and plays video games all the time, and spends far too many nights on Wikipedia conspiracy theory pages, and honestly, is pretty shit at football. Lucas has never been called cool in his entire life.

“You’re so weird,” he murmurs, eyes wide and disbelieving on Eliott. “You really are.” He lowers his beer back down to the table, eyes following the motion, still down when he says, so quietly he hopes Eliott will miss it, “I like you so much.”

Of course Eliott hears it. And of course the girls at the other end of the table hear it too, both letting out awwww’s that make Lucas’s cheeks flush.

“Reminds me of us,” one girl says to the other, who shushes her with a giggle. They both stand from the table, gather their plates, and leave, their held hands swinging between them, one of them glancing back at Lucas to wink before they disappear from the parking lot.

Lucas hesitantly glances back up at Eliott, who’s leaning on his forearms again, his smile small, and his eyes burning. They’re still the colour of ice but they’re so warm, in the way they travel across Lucas’s face, down his neck, and back up again. They’re not cooling on Lucas’s skin anymore, they’re setting him alight from the inside out.

“Hey,” Eliott says, voice low, smooth. “Let’s get out of here.”

Lucas licks his lips. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

Yeah, that’s… “Okay.”

They collect their plates and bottles and drop them in the bins back at the truck. They turn right when they leave, with no particular destination in mind, both of them wanting to be moving, looking to expel the wild, anticipatory energy manifesting between them. Eliott’s arm brushes against Lucas’s and it feels like lightning dancing across his skin.

Eliott turns them again, onto a much quieter street, with a park on one side and a row of tall, narrow houses on the other. Lucas can hear music coming from a few open windows, faint laughter spilling out into the night, but he can’t see anyone, other than a man walking his dog further down the road.

They cut into an empty basketball court that opens up onto a small, flat field. The sun is far down on the horizon now, the sky painted with pastel swaths of pink, purple, yellow and blue. Eliott’s on his board, skating lazy circles around where Lucas walks, laughing when Lucas rolls his eyes after he does a kick flip.

“You look stupid,” Lucas says, and Eliott rolls to a stop in front of him, cutting off his path. 

“You think so?” Eliott asks. Teasing, always teasing.

“Yeah, I do.”

Eliott steps off his board. Kicks it up. “You know, you shit talk skateboarding so much for someone who’s never tried it.”

Lucas makes a face. “How do you know I’ve never tried it?”

“Please.” Eliott says it like its obvious, and maybe it is, but Lucas has his reasons. Yann has bene trying to get him into skateboarding for years, but Lucas could never be bothered to try it. And yeah, maybe, maybe he doesn’t want to fall. He hates the idea of it.

“Well, whatever.” Lucas says testily, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t need to try it to know it looks stupid.”

“Mhm.” Eliott narrows his eyes at Lucas. “You’re scared.”

“I am not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I am not fucking scared.”

“Alright.” Eliott shrugs, smiling. “If you say so.” His voice is a sing-song on the last sentence, the tone so clearly conveying i don’t believe you that it makes Lucas bristle. It’s the type of tone that always gets his back up. Makes him do stupid things.

“Give me that thing,” he grumbles, snatching the board from Eliott and dropping it to the ground. He hesitates for the briefest moment before he steps onto it.

Immediately the board shifts, Lucas’s feet going one way, and his body threatening to go another and oh god, Lucas is going to fall he’s going to break something he’s going to die why does he always do this dumb shit—

“Whoa!” Eliott reaches out and grabs onto Lucas’s flailing hands, holding them tightly in his own. He manages to steady Lucas enough that he doesn’t fall, just rolls a bit to the right. “Christ, I didn’t think you’d actually go for it.”

Lucas can feel his cheeks heating. Eliott’s hands are soft and strong against his own, long fingers curled between Lucas’s. “Yeah, well. I…can’t really say no to a challenge.”

“I know,” Eliott says, his features softening into something that could possibly be called fond. “Why do you think I kept giving you so much shit right back? I thought it was the only way to get you to talk to me.”

Lucas’s hands squeeze Eliott’s, on reflex, and Eliott squeezes back. “I don’t know if that was a good plan, because I thought you hated me.”

“I dunno. I kinda disagree, because look where we are now.”

Belatedly, Lucas realizes that they’re moving, Eliott taking small, slow steps and gently pulling Lucas along by the hands, the board rolling along under Lucas’s feet.

“Just try to move your body with the board,” Eliott instructs. “Keep your core tight.”

Right.

The feeling of the ground moving underneath him is, admittedly, nerve-wracking, but Eliott is holding his hands so tightly, tugging him along so slowly. It allows Lucas to pay attention to other things, like how good the faint wind feels on his face, like how good Eliott’s palms feels against his own.

He tries to remember what they were talking about, distracted by the play of the dusk light over Eliott’s features, hallowing the shadows under his cheekbones, under his eyes, making him look otherworldly. Lucas searches his brain for a word he heard Manon use a while ago.

Ethereal.

“And where are we now?” He asks eventually, stumbling only a bit when Eliott turns him in a wide circle, going to the other end of the court.

“We’re on a date.” Eliott says, once again like it’s obvious. “We told each other that we like each other. We’re probably going to kiss tonight.”

Lucas’s mouth drops open. His throat feels dry. “You think we’re going to kiss?”

“Of course.” Eliott looks up from where he’s been watching Lucas’s feet on the board, meeting his eyes. “Don’t you?”

Lucas swallows once. “I doubt it.”

“Really.” Eliott has slowed Lucas down until he’s barely moving, the board moving from its own momentum. He’s still holding Lucas’s hands. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“Not particularly.” Lucas wrinkles his nose. “You’re kinda gross. But you’re asking all these questions like you want to kiss me.”

“Hm, no, actually. I don’t want to kiss you anymore.”

“Oh no?” A shocked laugh bubbles out of Lucas’s throat, flies free before he can catch it. 

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Now who’s asking questions?”

They’ve stopped moving, completely. Lucas is standing on the board, and he’s closer to Eliott’s height this way, only has to tilt his chin up a bit to meet his gaze.

“If you don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine. I can find someone else who will.”

Eliott laughs now, squeezing Lucas’s hands again where they hang between them. “How the fuck did you manage to turn that around on me?”

Lucas sighs. “You’re not that smart. It’s not difficult.”

Eliott’s face screws up into something complicated, like he wants to smile but he’s trying not to, and oh god, is Lucas ever familiar with that expression.

“You’re so mean to me,” Eliott complains. He releases his hands from Lucas’s, and Lucas mourns the loss of his touch for only a second before those hands are at his waist, Eliott stepping so close to him that Lucas could count his eyelashes. “But I know your secret,” Eliott whispers into the empty air between them.

“Yeah?” Lucas’s voice comes out all breath. He swallows and tries again. “What’s that?”

“You like me,” Eliott says, wrapping his arms fully around Lucas’s waist. “You like me and you want to kiss me.”

“That’s not a secret. I told you that I like you.” Lucas argues, his own arms coming up to wrap around Eliott’s neck, his hands almost shaking when they pass over the hard muscle of Eliott’s shoulders. “You know I do.”

“I do.” Eliott agrees, and he’s leaning closer, any distance left getting small, smaller, smaller. “I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“Eliott,” Lucas says firmly, because he has never been a patient person and even he has his limits for how much teasing he can take. “I really like you. And if you don’t kiss me right now then I’m never going on a date with you again.”

Eliott says nothing to that. Just leans the last few inches forward and presses their lips together.

Eliott’s lips are soft and warm, but the kiss is artless, a quick press of lips that Eliott immediately pulls away from. Lucas whines at the loss, wanting more, needing more than that.

“This is okay, right? You want this?”

“Yes, Eliott, for fucks’s sake, yes.” Lucas tugs him in by his neck. “Fucking hell,” he mutters, the last word getting caught by Eliott’s lips, their lips crushing together now, Eliott’s arms tight around Lucas’s waist.

Lucas moans into it, arching his neck up to get closer, needing Eliott to be closer.

He opens his mouth the slightest bit on the next press, and Eliott takes the invitation, coaxing Lucas’s mouth open even wider and kissing him, deep and wet.

The thing is, Lucas has actually thought about kissing Eliott before. He’s wondered what it would be like, if Eliott would have too much spit or if it would be too dry or if Eliott was the type of boy who would immediately get handsy.

In none of his fantasies did he ever think it would be this good, these slow, sensual presses of their mouths, the warm slickness of Eliott’s tongue against his own, the feeling of Eliott’s soft hair between Lucas’s fingers, the smell of Eliott surrounding him, the comforting weight of Eliott’s arms around him.

“Lucas,” Eliott gasps between one kiss and the next and he sounds ruined, and Lucas thinks he might be right there with him, because kissing Eliott is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before, and Eliott is unlike anyone he’s ever known.

Lucas thinks back to the hug earlier that night, thinks about letting himself fall into Eliott but maybe they’re falling together, comets headed skywards, shooting stars set on a collision course.

So he gasps, “Eliott,” right back and lets himself feel every bit of it. 

Eliott does something with his tongue that makes Lucas’s whole body feel like a lightning rod and he moans again, tugging on Eliott’s hair.

And apparently that does something to Eliott, because he’s trying to come even closer, and he’s tilting Lucas a bit and Lucas feels his feet move but they’re not moving, and fuck, he forgot he was still on the board—

Eliott tightens his arms even more and Lucas is moving, his feet leaving the skateboard as it rolls away, Eliott swinging him around in a steady circle. Lucas pulls his head back, separating their mouths to gasp again, his feet swaying in the air.

“Eliott,” he yells, laughing, and Eliott is laughing too, setting Lucas gently onto the ground, bending to follow him down, keeping their lips level. “You really think you’re smooth, huh,” Lucas says but it’s lost again into Eliott’s mouth, a barb that has no sting, that dissolves to stardust between one press of lips and another.

Eliott’s mouth is scorching hot against Lucas’s own, so sweet Lucas might actually faint, and he’s just thinking about pushing Eliott onto the grass outside of the court and climbing on top of him, getting a better angle, when Eliott abruptly pulls back.

Lucas can’t believe the sound that comes out of his own mouth. He knows he’s blushing, and he tries to reel Eliott back in to forget about it, but Eliott’s face looks determined. 

“I want to ask you something.”

Lucas literally cannot get a single thought formed at that moment other than lips and tongue and Eliott. “Uh,” he says, lips still pursed slightly.

Eliott clears his throat. “Lucas, will you be my boyfriend?”

It takes a second, it really does, because Eliott’s lips look cherry red in the fading light and Lucas wants to be kissed again more than he wants anything else in the world, but the words land somewhere in Lucas’s brain, somewhere his brain cells have decided to return to so they can point at it and say, oh shit!

Boyfriend?

Lucas blinks. 

Boyfriend.

“Eliott, what the fuck.”