meet cute ?
I… don’t know how to explain what meet cute means so here’s an example?
“Line up with me.”
Lucas lifts his eyes, chin still angled down as he pauses mid-text. He thinks he’s misheard that. Daphne can’t possibly be asking what he thinks she’s asking from him. “What,” he asks, toneless.
“I don’t wanna do it alone! You’ve gotta come with.”
“Why?” He looks over to the booth she’s been eyeing for a while now, lips set in a grimace at the mere thought of the both of them queueing up for it. “You know that’s weird, right?”
“Well I don’t wanna do it alone,” she protests, eyes widening for emphasis.
Lucas shrugs. “Sounds like a personal problem.”
Daphne retorts by linking their arms together and bodily dragging him towards the booth— a kissing booth, in fact. A fucking kissing booth. Lucas should never be caught dead lining up for something so absurd.
“Daphy! Hey!” He puts up a bit of a struggle but doesn’t really use much force behind it. He doesn’t want her to accidentally hurt herself whilst kidnapping him. “I’ll just stand on the side and watch you, I swear you’ll be fine!”
“No! You can stand right beside me, you don’t even have to do anything just stand in line with me.”
And so Lucas finds himself at the back of a long lineup with a bunch of anxious, giggling high schoolers and college students alike. When the girls had asked him to hang out with them at a ‘funfair’, he’d been hoping for a chill time playing arcade games and maybe even a ride on the ferris wheel, if he’s feeling frisky.
What he hadn’t been expecting is a line of fundraising booths set up along a dim lit walkway. From food stalls to handmade crafts… and then the kissing booth. Which, of course, has a lineup that never dwindles. The boys behind the stall are from the rugby team in a university nearby, if Lucas remembers correctly. It only costs two euros at the least for a chance to lock lips with whichever sacrificial soul is on shift.
Lucas eventually gets over his hang up on joining Daphne in line and continues with their chitchat, keeping his head down to track the other conversation he’s having with the boys in the group chat.
They’re about three people behind when movement from the front has him looking up and boy is he sent right back into fight or flee instincts, mostly leaning towards flee, if he’s being honest.
“Wow. That’s…”
“Eliott!” Daphne squeals out, covering her mouth with both hands as if afraid that the Greek god himself would hear them. “Oh my god!”
Who? He looks at her strangely. “You know their names?” But he doesn’t wait for an answer. The guy— Eliott? grins down at the next person in line and Lucas’ internal organs spontaneously transform themselves into butterflies. He thinks that’s his cue to leave. “I’m just gonna go… stand… there…” He flaps his hand vaguely in the direction behind them and slowly backs out but Daphne circles an iron grip around his arm and vehemently shakes her head.
“Moral support!” she hisses out.
Oh god, only one more person in front of them.
The interaction lasts longer than the last because the girl is bravely trying to flirt her way into getting free kisses instead. Eliott laughs, gracious in his attempts to turn her down. Lucas’ heart palpitates at the sound of it.
Daphne’s phone starts ringing. Lucas stares at her, whispering a warning, “Don’t answer that, don’t—”
“Hello?” She fucking answers the call. There’s a short lag with just her nodding along to whoever’s talking on the other line while Lucas looks on in disbelief. “I need to take this, sorry!” she says eventually, scurrying out of the line faster than Lucas can scream bloody murder.
Shit. He needs to leave the line before the girl in front of him—
“Hi.” Eliott says, and Lucas, without removing his eyes from the fascinating rocks on the ground, has a feeling the guy is talking to him.
Shit.
“Hi,” he greets back. Not wanting to seem too weird, he looks up, swallowing back the nerves that rise to the surface at the intensity of Eliott’s gaze. His delayed reaction is probably weird enough but one can only hope it goes unnoticed.
Eliott’s smiling down at him sweetly. “Hello.”
“Hi,” Lucas says again because he’s the brightest fucking crayon in the fucking box. “Hello.” Oh look, his fried brain decides to change it up. Keeps things fresh.
“Hi.” Eliott’s pressing his lips together now, looking seconds away from bursting into laughter.
“Hello.” Fucking hell. Lucas pockets his phone with one hand and fidgets with his hair using the other. “Hi. Hello.” Literacy is obviously his strong point.
“How are you?” Eliott finally moves the conversation forward.
“Good, good. How are—” Lucas shakes his head, flush rising up his cheeks as he’s suddenly very aware of the disgruntled stares being directed at his back. Right. Hot rugby player. Long lineup. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you up, I’m gonna go.”
“Wait, what?” Is that disappointment in Eliott’s voice? Oh! He probably needs the donation money, huh.
Lucas feels around in his pockets but he’d shoved his wallet inside Manon’s purse earlier so, uh, that’s not good. “I…”
“You’re gonna walk away without a kiss?”
Lucas’ head snaps up. “I was just,” he fumbles, gesturing towards where Daphne had walked off. “I was with a friend, she was nervous…” Eliott leans his elbows on the table which brings him down to Lucas’ level. Which means their faces are now much closer to each other. Which means silly little ‘butterflies’ is an understatement for what Lucas’ insides are doing right now.
“Yeah?” Eliott urges him to continue.
“I don’t even have money.” Lucas trails off pathetically.
One of Eliott’s hands moves but Lucas doesn’t think about it, unwilling to unlock his eyes from Eliott’s mesmerizing ones. There’s a resounding clink from the jar beside them and Lucas is startled enough to follow the sound.
Eliott’s hand is still resting lazily over the top and he drops the second coin inside right under Lucas’ stunned gaze.
“Oh wow,” Eliott says, bringing Lucas’ attention back to him. “Where did that money come from?”
Ridiculous, that’s what he is. Lucas laughs, of course. How can he not?
“I guess I do get a kiss then?” he asks, still a touch shy, but confidence rising after the stunt Eliott just pulled.
“I guess so.” Eliott returns to leaning over the table but doesn’t make any move forward, waiting for Lucas to close the gap.
Lucas briefly entertains jumping straight into a proper kiss. Maybe it’d be good enough to have Eliott ending his shift early and spending the rest of the night with Lucas instead. But a small part of him wants to poke at it first, see how far Eliott’s interest goes, play a fun little game they might enjoy.
So he leans up and plants a small, closed mouthed kiss on Eliott’s lips, a heady rush going through him when he pulls away only to see Eliott chasing after his touch, eyes still closed and brows furrowed in frustration.
“Oh, sorry,” Lucas teases, biting his lip playfully. Eliott’s eyes drop down to them. “The sign says 2 euros for a peck. Don’t wanna cheat, you know.”
Eliott doesn’t respond. Instead, he leans back, digs around in his back pocket, and pulls out a whole twenty. Lucas laughs incredulously— the guy has got to be bluffing. He can’t be serious.
Except he is serious. Without breaking eye contact, Eliott drops the entire bill in the jar, self satisfied smirk in place as he resumes his casual elbow to table position. “Wanna try that again?” Eliott asks, words challenging and eyes hopeful.
Lucas doesn’t even pretend to think about it.
