Work Text:
Autumn is undoubtedly Eliott’s favorite season. The weather is cool and crisp, but not freezing. There are vibrant reds and oranges and yellows, coloring the world in shades of sunset at all hours of the day. The food is warm and rich and decadent, the stuff that clings to your bones a bit and makes you feel at home.
Not to mention it makes a beautiful backdrop for a certain boy that never seems to leave Eliott’s mind these days.
He and Lucas have been teetering on that line for a while now is the thing. Eliott can’t help but notice the looks, the constant texting, the occasional flirting that took a while for him to catch onto. He’s always been a bit oblivious when it comes to that stuff, generally making the first move, making himself clear and letting the other person catch up.
But with Lucas it’s different. Eliott’s had a bit of a crush on him since he first transferred to his school – has always appreciated his deep blue eyes, the way his hair seems to have a mind of its own, the fierce loyalty he shows his friends. But at the time, when Arthur had first introduced him to Lucas, when he had welcomed Eliott into their friend group, Eliott hadn’t wanted to risk losing the only friends he had. Not to mention he’d still been with Lucille. So he hadn’t done anything about his feelings, just letting them stay there, close to his heart.
But a few months ago, things began to change. Or maybe it’s just that Eliott started to pay more attention.
It was something Basile had said actually, that had made him start to wonder. They’d all been sitting at a café – Eliott, Lucas, Yann, Arthur and Basile – and Lucas had gotten up to grab another coffee. Bas had asked him to get him a snack and Lucas had told him to stop being a lazy piece of shit and get it himself. But then he’d turned to Eliott and quietly asked him if he wanted another coffee too.
Eliott hadn’t really thought anything of it at first, but Bas, annoyed at Lucas’ lack of empathy at his apparently growling stomach had leaned across the table, whining as Lucas had made his way to the counter. “Why does Lucas always do nice stuff for Eliott but not for me?”
Yann had shot Bas a glance, his jaw clenched. “Because you’re an idiot.”
That had made Bas go off on another tangent about how everyone was always mean to him, but it had made Eliott think. And the more he thought about it, he realized that Lucas did tend to treat him differently than everyone else.
Lucas was nicer to him, more attentive, paid him more compliments, invited him to more things. And maybe, hidden there in all of that, there had been some flirting.
(But Eliott had always been bad at subtlety, so he wasn’t really sure. When he wanted something, he tended to go for it, lay his cards on the table in a way that really couldn’t be ignored. He’s never really had to do this before – play it safe.)
What Eliott does know though is that he treats Lucas differently. A good different.
Because the thing is Eliott knows his heart beats faster when he sees his phone light up with a text from Lucas, is well aware of what he’s doing when he compliments Lucas just to see the way his cheeks blush in beautiful shades of pink, seeks out every opportunity to be near him, touch him.
But he doesn’t know what it means for Lucas.
Maybe that’s the problem – it’s only ever been this surface-level stuff. Friendly banter, gentle flirting that could seem unserious, light touches that could mean nothing. And maybe it’s supposed to be like this, maybe Lucas wants this to be the extent of their relationship, but Eliott knows he’s falling and he’s falling fast.
He can’t figure out if Lucas is falling too.
It’s timing, after all. The timing has always been off. When Eliott first met Lucas, he’d been with Lucille, and even though he’d immediately noticed him, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. And then they’d actually started talking and it turned out they got along great – better, in fact, than Eliott had ever gotten along with anyone before.
But he sorted out his feelings too late, much too late. By the time he ended things with Lucille for good, the subtle flirting had just become part of their relationship and Eliott had somehow managed to become Lucas’ friend instead.
It wasn’t that Eliott didn’t like being Lucas’ friend, but these days they walk the gentle line between friendship and what could be and it drives Eliott crazy.
They’re sitting at lunch one day towards the end of October, just the two of them. Eliott is trying to focus on his food, he really is, but there’s a bright yellow tree just outside the window they’re sitting by and the sunlight is streaming in at just the right angle and from where Eliott sits, Lucas looks like he’s been lit in a heavenly glow.
So when Lucas says something, Eliott has to ask him to repeat it.
“I asked what you were doing on Friday,” Lucas says casually.
Eliott nearly chokes, his heart skipping like it does every time Lucas asks him to hang out. (Because maybe this time, it might mean something different.) “I don’t think I have plans.”
“Want to go to a movie?” And Eliott can’t help the way his thoughts spiral out of control at Lucas’ question. A movie? Just the two of them?
He’s slow then, testing the waters, trying to figure out just what this is. “Uh yeah, sure. What movie were you thinking?”
“Well, there’s that new horror film you know, for Halloween? Thought that might be kind of cool.”
And there are two things Eliott knows with absolute certainty: 1) he hates scary things, especially horror films and 2) he’d go anywhere if Lucas asked him. So unfortunately for him, he’ll be going to this movie.
“Yeah, sounds good,” Eliott says like he’s not at least a bit hesitant to have to sit through an hour or two of intentionally scaring himself. But it’s fine, better than fine actually, because he’ll get to spend time with Lucas.
Lucas smiles at him, taking another bite of his sandwich. “Okay I’ll come by your apartment around 7? And we can take the bus to the theater together.”
Eliott’s mind is racing and he can’t believe that this might finally be what he’s been hoping for but then –
“We’ll meet the rest of the boys there since they live in the opposite direction.”
And oh, Eliott tries hard not to pay attention to the way his heart drops at the mention of the other boys. He likes them, he does, but this means it’s a friend thing, a platonic thing. It means it the same as it always is.
–
On Friday Eliott finds himself sitting there in the dark theater, trying to keep his attention on the screen. He’s trying to focus on the idiot family walking into their (clearly haunted) house. He tries to listen as the father reassures his family that the rumors aren’t true, the house is just old. But the thing is – and isn’t it always this – Lucas is there, sitting so close to him their knees are almost brushing, and Eliott is finding it hard to pay attention to anything else.
It’s heartbeats and breaths and gentle knees. A glance as Lucas offers Eliott more popcorn, a little shake of his head to say no, the settling back into the seats, fingers inches from each other.
And Eliott is dying.
But it can’t be like this, he won’t survive the two hours in the theater like this, so he turns his attention back to the screen, trying to get invested in the movie (even if he knows he’s going to hate it).
And it’s just his luck that as he turns his attention back, focuses all his energy on the story unfolding in front of him, something black and dark and scary with a gaping mouth and dead eyes pops up on the screen and Eliott nearly screams.
It’s this , Eliott hates this feeling of losing control over his reactions, his body kicking into fight or flight mode, pulse racing, muscles frantic. He needs to be grounded.
So without thinking, in the split second that it takes for his eyes to catch up with brain, in the moment it takes between the fear and the recognition that it can’t hurt him, Eliott reaches for the one thing that makes him feel safe: Lucas.
His hand finds Lucas’ and then he’s clenching Lucas’ fingers tightly in his own, his shock from the scare making him lose his ability to fight the urge to hold Lucas’ hand, the urge he’s been pushing down for months.
He squeezes Lucas’ hand. And Lucas squeezes back.
It brings Eliott back into himself, that feeling of Lucas’ hand responding to his, pressure that anchors him, touch that sets him on fire. He glances over at Lucas and Lucas’s face is split into a wide smile as his eyes finds Eliott’s and he’s laughing , chuckling at Eliott being scared by the movie. Because to Lucas it’s no big deal, he watches these movies all the time, they don’t surprise him.
Eliott rolls his eyes and he’s very aware of Lucas’ hand in his, the feeling of skin on skin, reveling in his touch. But then he’s remembering that as much as he’s wanted to do this, they don’t do this. They don’t hold hands. It crosses their unspoken line, bends their informal rules too much.
And the last thing Eliott wants is for Lucas to feel uncomfortable. So as he turns around, eyes trained back on the screen, he moves, just a little, to let Lucas’ hand drop from his own, go back to that space of platonic friendship with a dash of flirting.
But as he relaxes his grip, moves to bring his hand away, his eyes trained on the movie in front of him, he feels Lucas’ hand chase his, grasping it again and lacing their fingers together.
Eliott can’t breathe, he really can’t. They don’t hold hands. And they certainly don’t hold hands like this. It’s the line, the one that’s been drawn for so long – you can flirt, but only just. You can touch, but not too long. Interlacing fingers are not part of the game they play.
Eliott gasps at the contact, reveling in how good it feels to have Lucas’ palm against his, fingers intertwined, knitted together under the armrest, resting on the scratchy fabric of the seats. He glances back towards Lucas, looking for a sign, something that will tell him why Lucas is doing this, why now. But all he finds is Lucas looking stoically ahead at the film on the screen, though maybe the hint of a smile plays at the corner of his lips. It’s too dark to see clearly.
And Eliott could panic. He could snatch his hand back, break the contact rough and sharp, stay behind the line that’s become his comfort zone, scared that moving outside it might change their relationship irrevocably for the worst. That he might lose Lucas, his deepest fear realized, ending up alone.
But now Lucas, it seems, is pushing that line a little farther, pressing on the limits of what they’ve allowed, testing to see how Eliott responds. And if this is his chance to make his case, Eliott can’t let it slip away.
He pulls their joined hands onto his lap and lets them rest there, tracing shapes with his thumb. He turns back to the screen and normally he’d have to look away, normally he’d be hiding his eyes, fear gripping his chest, heart beating rapidly as he watches terror unfold.
But a different kind of fear has taken its place, with Lucas there, hand in his. But this fear is lighter, more exciting and daunting. Less fear really, and more nervousness, his mind racing quickly thinking what is this, what does it mean? And there aren’t answers yet and there can’t be, not really, as they sit in the dark, fingers laced.
In the end, Eliott doesn’t watch the movie really. The pictures flash in front of his eyes, but his heart is beating so loud it drowns out the screams and creepy music echoing from the speakers. For a moment, Eliott almost laughs to himself at the setting because he’s always been a hopeless romantic, has imagined holding Lucas’ hand like this for so long but it’s never had this backdrop – no matter how fitting for an October evening.
But it doesn’t matter really, because sitting like this in this moment, the only thing Eliott knows is the fire burning in his chest, Lucas’ gentle touch the spark that set it aflame.
–
When the credits roll and the lights begin to come up Lucas finally lets go of his hand. They must have been sitting there like that for nearly an hour. But Eliott gets it – the light always makes it harder.
Eliott is also a little grateful because the last thing he needs right now is for one of the other boys to see and ask about it. It would undoubtedly become a thing and Eliott doesn’t think he’d be able to keep of his facade of being only interested in Lucas as a friend if he gets hit with too many questions.
So when the lights turn on, Lucas pulls away and Eliott lets him go.
As they all make their way out of the theater, Eliott finds himself in a daze, his head swimming, his heart bursting, nervousness piercing his chest. And he looks to Lucas for the next move, for what comes next, only Lucas isn’t looking to him.
In fact, Lucas doesn’t look at him at all as they walk out of the darkened room, down the hallway to the lobby and eventually out the doors onto the sidewalk. Instead, Lucas runs up to whisper something to Yann and then they’re joined by the rest of the boys loudly talking about the parts of the movie that scared them or were particularly gross, as Eliott trails behind.
Out on the darkened sidewalk, out in the cool night air, the fire that had been burning is starting to wane and Eliott feels his confidence and excitement failing him as Lucas continues to ignore him. Sure, Eliott wasn’t expecting a frank discussion of what happened in front of everyone else, but maybe just a glance, something to let Eliott know it affected Lucas as much as it affected him.
As they all stand there saying their goodbyes, Eliott starts to panic. Because this is where they head off in separate directions, where Eliott and Lucas generally head to their area of the city, and the other boys go the other way.
And Eliott had thought they’d be heading back together, him and Lucas, but Lucas is standing off to the side, whispering with Yann and maybe, Eliott thinks, he’s trying to find a way to stay over at Yann’s so he can avoid the awkward walk home with him.
Eliott’s thoughts are spiraling a little out of control when Yann suddenly gives Lucas a look and shoves him gently in Eliott’s direction.
“Come on boys,” Yann says loudly, clapping Arthur and Basile on their shoulders. “Let’s head out.” He nods in Eliott and Lucas’ direction, where Lucas has ended up standing closer to Eliott, his back to him. “See you two later.”
And then the other three are turning up the sidewalk and heading out into the darkness, leaving Eliott alone with Lucas. His heart is beating so fast, Eliott is scared it might burst out of his chest.
He just needs to reassure Lucas, he thinks, make sure he knows they can still be normal, that it doesn’t have to be anything more, no matter how Eliott feels. He opens his mouth to say that when Lucas whirls around.
His eyes meet Eliott’s for the first time since they left the theater and there’s something new there, that Eliott can’t quite place. It’s not bad, but it’s strong, determined. He smiles gently at him. “Can I walk you home?”
Eliott nods.
It’s not a particularly long way to either of their places. The bus is quicker, but Eliott and Lucas had both gotten in the habit of walking home when it wasn’t too far and there wasn’t a certain time they needed to be somewhere. They could take their time that way, hang out for just a little bit longer. Or, at least, that was always why Eliott had suggested walking.
They walk in relative silence through the dark streets, night falling earlier and earlier with each passing day. It’s rained since they’d gone in for the movie, the cobblestone streets reflecting in the light from the lampposts, and leaving the air cool but fresh, a slight mist swirling. Eliott takes a deep breath. He loves nights like this.
They’re walking side by side, and despite Eliott’s fear, Lucas isn’t really keeping his distance. Their shoulders are close, their hands closer, and Eliott can’t help but notice the warmth of Lucas’ body next to him.
Eliott wonders if he should say something. There’s silence, yes, and it’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but he also doesn’t want to go home without at least talking about it. He turns words over in his mind trying to knit them together into something smooth and cohesive, something to mask his nervousness, his feelings, as they get closer and closer to his apartment.
And they’re walking so close it’s bound to happen and maybe, Eliott thinks later, it was intentional, but their knuckles brush as their hands hang at their sides and Eliott feels the fire light up again.
So it’s not his fault, really, when he reaches for Lucas’ hand again. When he grabs Lucas and tries to intertwine their fingers like they had only a little earlier in the evening.
Only he feels Lucas stiffen slightly at his touch, pulling his hand away and then Lucas stops moving, rooting himself to the concrete sidewalk.
All Eliott can think is shit and then he’s feeling slightly nauseous as he turns to face Lucas where he’s stopped on the street, bracing himself for what he’s sure is coming next. Kind, gentle words that will inevitably break his heart.
And when he turns to face Lucas, he finds him staring straight at him, his face slightly contorted, a little frantic. Lucas takes a deep breath and Eliott suddenly loses the ability to speak.
But luckily it seems like Lucas has also been thinking of things to say on their walk because he’s taking another deep breath as he looks at Eliott.
“Eliott,” he says quietly, his voice small in the darkness. “When you held my hand in the theater, were you holding it because you were scared or because it was my hand?”
And Eliott wasn’t really prepared for a question, and certainly not that one. He swallows, his eyes flickering over Lucas’ face, trying to discern why he’s asking.
“Eliott,” Lucas repeats and Eliott knows he can’t get away without answering.
Eliott shrugs, his hands finding the pockets of his jeans as he tries to keep Lucas’ gaze. “I uh...well,” and it’s now or never, “I just wanted to hold your hand.”
And Lucas is still looking at him, but he’s burning brighter, if that’s possible, as Eliott speaks. Eliott feels the words hang heavy, because for the first time, Eliott has intentionally crossed that invisible line they’ve drawn, has been clearer than he’s ever been before about how he feels. And he hopes Lucas hears him, he hopes it wasn’t a mistake.
Lucas isn’t saying anything again, and his gaze drops to the floor as he takes a deep breath. Eliott is just starting to regret saying anything at all when Lucas looks back up at him and something is there that wasn’t before.
“Fuck it,” Lucas whispers, his eyes blazing, and then he’s taking the last two steps towards Eliott, grabbing his face and kissing him quick, pressure barely there and then gone again.
Eliott’s eyes go wide, and he has no chance to respond, the pressure of Lucas’ lips against his own barely there long enough for his brain to register it as something other than wishful thinking.
When Lucas pulls back, his hands stay on either side of Eliott’s face and he’s looking at him like he’s waiting for some sort of reassurance that they’re on the same page.
And even though Eliott’s imagined confessing his feelings to Lucas hundreds of times, he’s not prepared for this, was never prepared for Lucas to make the first move, so the shock takes over and his mind goes blank as his heart soars.
He can’t believe this is finally happening.
Only, maybe Lucas can’t tell what he’s thinking because suddenly Lucas’ warm hands are gone from the side of his Eliott’s face, and moving instead to cover his own as he steps away from Eliott.
“Fuck,” he moans, hiding his face in his hands, “I am so sorry, Eliott. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He moves his hands, letting his arms drop to his sides, but he’s looking at the ground.
“I just, I don’t know, I let myself get excited when you held my hand and…”
“Lucas,” Eliott whispers, as his brain catches up with him.
“Fuck,” Lucas says again. “I’ve just had a crush on you for so long and Yann was saying…” He manages to lift his eyes then, locking onto Eliott’s. “Well it doesn’t matter what Yann was saying. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same–”
Eliott doesn’t let Lucas finish. He can’t. Not when he’s looking so sad under the yellow glow of the streetlamps, his hair messy from the wind, his cheeks pink from the cold (and a little from the moment, Eliott thinks). He reaches out, one hand clasping Lucas’ wrist and he pulls him close, the other hand reaching up to brush along Lucas’ cheekbone, moving to wrap around the back of his neck.
And then their lips are touching again, only this time it’s stronger, more sure, because Eliott knows. I’ve just had a crush on you for so long .
It takes a minute for Lucas to catch up but then he’s relaxing in Eliott’s embrace and he’s kissing Eliott back, strong arms wrapping around Eliott’s waist, pulling him closer. They sway into each other on the sidewalk, lips moving, Lucas grasping at the front of Eliott’s jacket, Eliott cradling Lucas’ face in his hands.
It’s like a dam has opened and Eliott can’t get enough. He pulls back from Lucas slightly, laughing, unable to stop the smile that’s spreading on his face.
“So if you couldn’t tell, I have a crush on you too,” Eliott says, letting his thumbs dance across Lucas’ cheeks.
Lucas grins at him, shaking his head slightly. “I think I got that,” he whispers, closing the space between them again.
Lips touch, mouths open, and the line, the one they drew for so long, is smashed to pieces. But they don’t think twice as they leave it shattered there on the sidewalk. With Lucas’ hand in his, for real this time, Eliott thinks there something to be said for breaking rules.