Chapter Text
It’s one of those days, where it’s not as cloudy outside as it is in his head. Lukas lays in his bed, running his hand through his honey blond hair, as if it wasn’t already messed up from sleep. Glancing at the clock, he decides that six in the evening is probably as good a time as any to get out of bed. With a sigh, he throws the covers off and sits on the edge of the bed, shivering a little. It’s dark outside, he notices dully, as he slowly stands and peers out the window before wandering toward the kitchen.
He flips on the hall light, the dining room light, the kitchen light as he goes. There are still dishes in the sink from the past two days that he ignores as he walks to the fridge to see that all he has is leftover takeout that, upon further inspection, is no good. Throwing away the cartons of food, he realizes that he has no choice but to go to the grocery store. He stands in his kitchen for another moment or two before going to the bathroom to shower. He keeps the light off, showering in the dark by muscle memory. Going to his room after, he pulls on jeans and an oversized sweatshirt before searching for shoes. He should do laundry soon, clean up the floor so he doesn't trip over anymore shirts.
Once he gets his shoes on and finds his wallet atop the clutter of his dresser, he grabs his keys, pulls on his jacket, and heads out. Though dark outside, the sky is a soft grey and snow is falling lightly. He locks the door to his flat and starts down the street towards the supermarket. He's not even sure what he intends to buy, just that he needs to get food.
His thoughts wander as he walks. He hasn't been the same in two years; something hollow is eating him from the inside. This void has been there since Mathias left… He glances up at the sky, letting himself get a little dizzy as he watches the snowflakes fall. It's a welcome feeling, comparatively.
Going inside, he's blasted with warmth and he lets out a soft sigh as he grabs a handbasket and begins to wander the store. It's a small, local shop that he knows well -- he knows the manager by name, and hates the way she looks at him with sadness when they cross paths these days. Luckily, he thinks, she should be long gone for the day and so he walks each aisle with little care of who else he'll encounter.
Lukas takes his time, contemplating whether or not he wants any fresh produce. He has a bad habit of forgetting that he's bought it and ends up throwing a lot of spoiled food. But he's craving fruit, and so he grabs a couple apples and an orange. He doesn't trust himself to eat more than that. By the time he gets to the checkout counter, he's been wandering for around an hour.
There's only one person in line ahead of him, a short blond man with a quaking lower lip. He's shuffling through his pockets, his debit card sitting on the counter. Lukas sets his basket on the belt, watching him out of the corner of his eye. The cashier has pity written all over her face. After another moment or two, the blond grabs his debit card and mutters, "Just… Put it back…"
Lukas pulls his wallet out, glancing at the total before handing the cashier a bill. "Here," he says without looking at the other man.
The cashier takes the bill, even as the man protests. "Oh, no! I couldn't--"
"You need to eat, and I have the money," Lukas interrupts, finally turning to stare at him. "I don't see the problem."
The man flounders a bit but the cashier finishes the order and hands Lukas the change. "Thank you," he mumbles, taking the single bag of groceries from the cashier. "I really appreciate that…" Lukas shrugs, watching the cashier start on his order. "Have a good night."
"You as well," Lukas replies, nodding at him. The man gives him a brief smile that doesn't reach his violet eyes before he scurries from the store. Lukas frowns thoughtfully as he watches him go.
It's such a simple encounter, but it leaves behind a curious feeling in his chest. He can't recall a time that he's ever bothered to help a stranger out like that. It was something Mathias would have done, and Lukas would have scoffed at him for it. And, yet, here he was -- paying for a perfect stranger's groceries and wishing him a good night, when he can barely muster the strength to get out of bed. It sparks something inside him, and it bothers him a little.
He pays for his groceries and leaves, heading home once more.
He feels awake.
Another two months pass before he encounters the man again. It's another trip to the grocery store, and Lukas actually knows what he's looking for today. He's been craving fyrstekake and, since no one makes it like him, he's found himself at the grocery store for the essentials -- or at least butter. With Christmas creeping closer, he’s surprised that he actually wants to do anything except sleep. Last year left him with such a hollowness, he’s not sure he’s recovered from it. Yet, here he is, searching for the ingredients for fyrstekake at three in the afternoon, like a “normal” person. A normal person wouldn’t have walked down the block in the raging snowstorm.
He’s staring at the eggs, debating whether or not the price of a whole dozen was worth throwing away half in a week, when he’s thrown out of his thoughts completely. “Oh, I’ve been hoping I’d run into you again!” a voice says to his left and he pauses, slowly turning his head to look at the blond man. He’s smiling today, and it almost reaches his eyes this time.
“You have?” he asks, curious despite himself. It’s been awhile since his heart has stuttered like that.
The man shifts his handbasket and pulls out his wallet. “I wanted to pay you back. I…” He pauses, hesitates, and continues, “I have the money to now...”
Lukas holds up his hand to stop him. “That’s alright. I don’t need it and I didn’t mind,” he says calmly, though there’s a mix of disappointment and irritation rising in the back of his throat.
The blond shakes his head and offers a bill anyway. “But I would like to. Please.” Lukas considers declining again, but he realizes that this man sees paying him back as some sort of status. He sighs and accepts the bill, shoving it in his front pocket with his keys; his handbasket is too full to be shuffling around too much. “I’m Tino, by the way. In case we run into each other again,” the man adds quietly, averting his gaze slightly.
Lukas stares at him, scrutinizing the lines on his face in an attempt to see if he’s joking. There’s only honesty written there. “My name is Lukas,” he finally answers, turning back to the eggs. “You don’t need any eggs, do you?” He can feel the quizzical stare and, with a surprising amount of confidence, he clarifies, “It seems a waste to buy a full dozen only to toss half. I don’t bake enough.”
Tino seems to catch on enough to answer, “I don’t usually either. I was having the same problem.” He reaches out and grabs a carton of eggs that he looks over. “What craving has you out in this weather anyway?”
Lukas considers walking away without responding. This man is still technically a stranger; it wouldn’t hurt either of them. Still, he finds himself saying, “Fyrstekake.” Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he smiles at the blank look on Tino’s face. “It’s...a sort of tart, I suppose… What about you?”
“Korvapuusti,” Tino answers cheerfully, jumping straight into the explanation before Lukas can even ask. He listens to the cheerful, lilting voice, only partially paying attention. How can the hollowness in his chest allow for anything else? “Ah, but I’m wasting your time… I’m sorry.”
“It’s...fine,” Lukas mutters, glancing at him. How much time has passed? Without much thought, he adds, “I needed this.” This human interaction. This moment between strangers. It shouldn’t make him feel as alive as it does, should it? How long has it been since he’s felt anything but empty?
Tino passes him the carton of eggs, his smile shy. “Yeah… I guess I did, too…”
Lukas nods absentmindedly. "Would you still like half these eggs?" Tino laughs lightly and says that he would.
It's a sunny Thursday afternoon when Lukas decides to clean his flat. Not just do the dishes or make his bed -- he's been better about that lately. This is the deep clean he's been putting off for two years. It's the untouched books on the side table, the magnets on the fridge that he never liked anyway, the one towel in the bathroom he never uses anymore. It's the closet, the goddamn closet.
He stares inside like there's some horrendous beast waiting for him inside. Maybe there is -- fear lurks in many forms... He stands there for what seems like eternity, staring down all the things he can’t see until his knees give way and he sits on the floor.
Mathias is thousands of miles away, never to return, and yet his voice fills the room and echoes in his head. How can emotion physically hurt him like this? His chest tightens unbearably and he can’t breathe. Even from a distance, he still has a hold of him, still delights in tormenting his thoughts. Lukas wants to give it all up. He wants to forget, move forward.
And still he sits, silently sobbing on his bedroom floor.
When Lukas and Tino meet for a third time, a few months later, he decides to take the not-so-subtle hint from the Universe. They meet in the produce section, and Lukas is a little envious of the amount of color in Tino's basket. He's still not cooking much, so he can't buy more than he's willing to eat in a few days.
Tino notices him first and wanders over with a smile that finally reaches his eyes. And isn't that wonderful, to see those violet eyes light up? "I think this might be becoming a habit," Tino jokes lightly.
Lukas hesitates for a beat and then says, "Maybe we can make this a habit elsewhere?"
"I think I'd be okay with that…" Tino answers, scuffing one foot against the ground. "Maybe a coffee shop?"
"Maybe the one down the street?" Lukas suggests, reaching around him to grab an apple. "Tomorrow morning?"
Tino watches him, still smiling. "Is eight too early?" Lukas shakes his head. "Then it's a date!" They both pause at the word, Tino's ears turning pink before he attempts to backtrack.
"It's a date," Lukas agrees softly, glancing up from the apple in his hand. Tino somehow hears him over his babbling and snaps his mouth shut in surprise. “And I look forward to it…”
There’s a brief pause between them in which they both try to find somewhere else to look besides each other. In some desperate attempt to keep the conversation going, Tino asks, "How did the… fish-ti-kake? Go?”
Lukas can’t help but smile at the attempt and covers his mouth to stop himself from laughing. “Fyrstekake,” he corrects with a slight cough. “And, well, I’ve done better. I burned it.” Tino snorts, taking the apple out of his hand that Lukas had forgotten he’d been holding. “What about that… I won’t attempt to say it.”
“I suppose that they’re close to cinnamon rolls, so you could call them that,” Tino suggests lightly, setting the apple back onto the display. “And I’m proud to say that they turned out pretty good this year! You’ll have to try them sometime!”
His ears get a little warm as Lukas lets his thoughts wander a little. “I’m not sure I would be able to pass them up if they were offered.” There’s a voice in the back of his head that’s gnawing at him, and he feels the void threaten his chest. Can’t he have something nice without Mathias coming after him? “I think I should go… I know I’m forgetting something…”
Tino glances at his basket with the faintest of frowns and nods. "Alright. I have to get to work soon anyway. See you tomorrow, Lukas!"
Lukas agrees quietly and watches Tino walk away. Maybe he shouldn't pursue this. Maybe he's too broken. With a sigh, he heads for the checkout. Maybe Mathias wanted him to feel like this -- like he's unworthy of bettering himself, of feeling like a player in his own life. Of falling in love again. He shakes his head; it's far too early to be thinking such things.