- 𝓼𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓼 - désiré doue.
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; secret date at the beach with doue. (its shorter than what i usually write but this came to me in a dream so i HADDD to write this😭)
warnings ! fluffff 🧁🧁🧁 < not proofread!! >
the ocean breeze was absolute violence, but honestly? with désiré’s hand practically glued to yours, you couldn’t even care.
six months. half a year of being absolute masterminds at sneaking around. to the rest of the world, désiré doué was the cool, rising young talent completely consumed by his football career, making headlines every time he touched the ball. to you? he was the guy who stole your oversized hoodies because he “liked the smell,” forgot where he put his keys approximately four times a day, and was currently dragging you around a beach.
“dés, slow down, i’m literally stumbling—” you laughed, trying not to trip over your own feet in the sand. “where are we going??”
“secret spot,” he murmured, pulling you closer. he had his hood pulled ridiculously low over his curls- and that signature, cocky little smirk on his face. “trust me. i checked it out yesterday.”
“you came all the way here ahead of time?” you said, the shock clearly visible in your voice
“of course i did. cant have the press catching us.” doué said as he raised an eyebrow at you.
Just down the shore, sheltered from the wind by a little rock wall, was a thick blanket spread across the sand that he'd definitely snuck out to prep ahead of time. Sitting right next to it was a massive stainless steel thermos.
“okay, wait. high effort,” you admitted, dropping onto the blanket.
doué immediately collapsed right beside you, pulling you back against his chest until you were basically wrapped in a human burrito. he buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a long, dramatic sigh.
“six months,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice muffled. “how have we not been caught by the press yet? we’re literally terrible at this.”
“you’re terrible at this,” you corrected, leaning back into his warmth. “you almost kissed me in the stadium tunnel three weeks ago!”
“we just won!” he protested, a cute, defensive laugh bubbling out of him. “and I recovered! i turned it into a high five. a very professional, strictly platonic high five.”
“it looked like a hand twitch, désiré.” you rolled your eyes at him.
“it was a masterclass in acting, actually.” he paused, his arms tightening around your waist, his tone dropping into something softer. quiet. “...i hate pretending, though. when we're out in public and I have to act like you’re just a friend? sucks. i just want to hold your hand and kiss you whenever i want.”
your heart did a stupid little flip. you turned your head, cupping his jaw so you could look at him. “i know. me too. but we said we’d wait for the right moment, remember? once things settle down a bit, we won't have to hide anything anymore. when the time is right, we’ll just be us in front of everyone.”
he looked at you, a slow, soft smile breaking through the dark. "yeah. when the time is right. i’m gonna hard launch us so loudly the internet might actually break."
"don't make promises you can't keep, dés."
"watch me," he chuckled, leaning down to press his lips to yours.
it was slow and sweet, tasting like cold air and pure comfort. when he finally pulled back, he had that quiet, dorky little blush on his cheeks that he only ever let you see, totally different from the confident player millions watched on television.
“speaking of ‘just us,’" he smirked, breaking the quiet moment to reach for the thermos, “i brought a little something..”
as soon as he unscrewed the cap, the rich, heavenly smell of hot chocolate filled the air. “aaand..” he said as he pulled a bag of giant, fluffy marshmallows out of his bag.
“hot cocoa?” you gasped.
“not just cocoa,” he boasted, pouring the steaming liquid into two plastic cups and dropping three massive marshmallows into yours. “extra sweet. pretty sure it’s 90% sugar and 10% cocoa.” he said with a big grin on his face.
“you’re great on the pitch and all, but this? legendary behavior.” you complimented as he handed you the steamy cup.
He placed a hand over his heart, looking ridiculously proud of himself. “Finally, someone who appreciates true talent.”
for the next hour, time kind of just stopped. you guys sat huddled under the blanket, sipping cocoa, pointing up at the sky and making up fake, ridiculous constellations just to make each other giggle and laugh. you talked about dumb stuff, serious stuff, his upcoming matches, your life, just letting the quiet crash of the waves fill the gaps.
and every few minutes, the talking would stop, replaced by quiet, soft kisses that tasted like warm marshmallows.
“look,” doué whispered suddenly, nudging your shoulder and pointing toward the dark horizon. a shooting star streaked across the sky, fading out in a second.
“did you make a wish?” you asked, tilting your head up to look at him.
doué just pulled you closer, resting his chin on top of your head with a contented hum.
“nah,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “i’m good. already got everything i need right here.”
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