Chapter Text
Roier does not understand how the fuck he got himself in this situation. See, the problem with him is that he's too impulsive, not even thinking twice before pulling one of his dumbass moves. At one moment, he was fastening the seatbelt in the car after grabbing his extra cream coffee, which would wake anyone with a glucose spike. And suddenly, he was rear-ending the back of his red car, adorned with silly Spider-Man stickers, into another black, somewhat beat-up car.
But he was desperate, okay? He was a pathetic little guy that could not handle seeing beautiful men. The problem with himself was certainly the big big heart, or maybe the past few years of single life, he thought to himself.
And now he was having to deal with an extremely gorgeous 6'1 man shooting him an extremely irritated look through the rearview mirror that seemed like he wanted to kill him right then and there.
But damn, that look... Roier would gladly accept his death sentence if that meant that he could get to stare at these beautiful eyes. The man's irises were an almost icy blue that couldn't withstand much exposure to the sun, having his eyes almost slightly narrowed all the time.
But he had to snap out of his trance as he realized the man was coming towards him with heavy steps.
Damn, he was really angry.
Perhaps Roier's foolishness had truly sealed his fate right there.
-
To be fair, Cellbit was having the shittiest day ever.
For starters, his damn motorcycle decided to stand him up when he needed it the most, and now he had to drive this junky car that Felps lent him for a day.
Then, the barista gave him the wrong order, but he felt too bad to ask him to redo it, and now he was stuck with a frickin' frappuccino when all he wanted was his normal dark coffee with no sugar.
And the cherry on top was when someone hit the damn car that wasn't even his. Damn, Felps was going to kill him because, for some reason, he had some special connection with that cursed old car.
So yes, maybe he was pissed off.
No, maybe he was furious.
Especially when the other person didn't get out of the damn car, and he could see two pairs of wide-eyed brown eyes through the rearview mirror of the red car, looking at him with a stupid expression.
Seriously, if Cellbit didn't already have enough issues with the law (hey, he was a rebellious teenager once), he would have dragged that guy out of the car seat a long time ago.
And he was a calm guy, okay, but everything about the last 24 hours had been a wave of bad luck swallowing him.
Come on, it's been 2 hours since he woke up, and the day is already a complete mess.
Roier rolled down the car window as he shifted on his seat, trying to look cool. Yes. Cool. Casual. It's not like Roier purposefully hit the other man's car as a means to strike a conversation and get his number...
It's not like he's a psycho or something.
Yes, definitely not a psycho.
But maybe a clown?
Yeah a desperate dumbass of a clown that does dumb shit to get to talk to cute people.
As the man got closer, Roier, nervously scratched his head. Then he mumbled, "Hey, uh, sorry 'bout that, man. My bad, really." He tries to look up, since the man is standing straight at the outside of his car door. "I didn't mean to... you know, crash into your ride. It's just that I saw you, and, uh, got a bit distracted, compa.", he completes letting his nervousness get the best of him, stumbling on Spanish words as he also let's a discreet flirt roll out of his tongue.
The man clearly irritated, looks down at Roier as he lets his window a bit more down and retorts, "Distracted? Seriously? This is my car you're messing with."
Ok. Maybe he had a nice voice. Like a deep one. The kind of voice that people stop to listen to because it's very pleasant to the ears, even when the tone is angry. And maybe Roier opened his mouth on a silly grin. Dude, he needed to chill the fuck out.
Roier, attempting to recover with a hint of charm, grinned awkwardly and then said, "Yeah, I noticed. Your car is pretty hard to miss. It's kind ...", He tries to find some nice words to describe that monstrosity of a car that looked totally trashy. "It's vintage, right? I like it man, it looks cool"
The other man stands unimpressed, as if sensing the other fake niceties. Then he mutters, "Thanks, but that doesn't excuse hitting my damn car."
Welp. Still angry. Things were not going the way Roier intended. And he still had to keep his composure when he just wanted to kind of fangirl, cause damn, that guy looked so hot with his arms flexing when he put them against his own chest.
Roier, now trying to engage in conversation to ease the tension, looks up to him and says, "Look, I get it. I messed up, and I'm sorry." He gives sort of a embarrassed smile. "But, you know, cars can be fixed. Names, though, I can't fix forgetting those. I'm Roier, by the way."
Cellbit did not understand what was going on. It pretty much seemed like he was being a test subject to some sort of social experiment. Otherwise, why was that guy giving him a stupid grin and winking his eyes at him.
The man was pretty charming to be honest, with a really cute face that didn't looked completely boyish due to a shadow of a still growing beard. But man, he just fucking caused an accident in a empty parking lot.
How much of a dumbass do you have to be to be able to do that?
So, Cellbit, still annoyed but slightly intrigued, replied, "I'm Cellbit. And you owe me big time for this."
Roier, gives a sympathetic nod, in response to the other guy.
Cellbit. That was a cool name. Like a really cool name for cool people. So he continues, "Fair enough, Cellbit. My bad again. Let me fix this, yeah? I promise I'll make it right." He tries to give his best puppy-dog look.
Cellbit, softening a bit, says, "Fine, just make sure you do."
Ok. The atmosphere shifted a bit. Maybe Roier could finally shoot his shot? Here goes nothing, he thinks. "Hey, Cellbit, since we're going to sort this out, maybe I could grab your number? You know, just to coordinate and make sure everything's settled for the repairs. Plus, I owe you a coffee or something as an apology." He tries.
Cellbit maybe was being a bit to harsh. He's not like this, plus this Roier guy was actually trying to make up to him. Considering the request, he sighs and replies, "Alright, but just for this arrangement. Don't think it means we're friends or anything."
Roier, grinning, quickly adds, "Of course, compa. No hard feelings. I just want to make things right, you know."
Roier eagerly takes out his phone to exchange numbers, and hands his phone to Cellbit. As Cellbit reluctantly hands over his number, Roier grins appreciatively, taking note of the chipped black nail polish. "Got it, Cellbit. I'll hit you up real soon to figure this mess out. And, uh, about that coffee—I'm serious. Consider it my way of making amends."
Cellbit raises an eyebrow, slightly intrigued, "Fine, just don't make it a habit."
Roier slipped his phone back to his pocket, noticing that he was really fucking late to work and he should get going like right FUCKING now. With a hint of urgency, he then says, "Hmm, Cellbit, I gotta run. Running late for something important, but I promise I'll hit you up later today to sort this out. Catch you soon, alright?" He kind of says it all in one breath. Damn it, another day when he gets too distracted with a handsome man. Focus Roier. Get it together.
Cellbit, slightly caught off guard with the urgency, simply nodded, "Sure, Roier. Take care, and we'll talk later. Otherwise I am really gonna track you down and find you." He says the last part jokingly, like partially.
Roier gives him his best charming smile while rushing off the parking lot, feeling like the world's luckiest man. Like, he knows he's gonna have to pay a fortune to get Cellbit's car fixed. But the man was worth it every penny.
As Roier quickly takes off, Cellbit watches his car disappear down the street, realizing he's now even later than before. Holy fuck. It's his first day, man. "Great, just great," he mutters to himself, the unexpected encounter adding a new layer of chaos to his already hectic day.
---------
So what if he was late to his first day of work at the new school. It was fine, Cellbit managed to convince Cucurucho that it wasn't actually his fault. Some dumbass crashed into his car so he got really late.
Everything went quite well and he just really really wanted to get to his classroom as quick as possible. He navigated the labyrinth of corridors with a stack of books clutched tightly to his chest. With each step, the weight of anticipation pressed upon him.
As he neared his classroom, he was trying to remember what Cucurucho, the principal, had told him. The quickest route to 106 classroom led through the bustling sports court.
He could hear children screaming as they were already doing their P.E activities or something. But honestly, he was too late to stop and look. So he just tried to avoid the crowd, walking quickly in the corner of the sports court.
Unbeknownst to him, his path intersected with the unpredictable trajectory of a red rubber dodgeball hurtling through the air. When he realized, it was too late. In the chaotic dance of the courtyard, Cellbit's eyes widened as the ball struck him square in the face. The impact sent his carefully stacked books sprawling in all directions, echoing a chorus of surprised gasps from the nearby students.
Some guy, mid-throw and realizing the unintended collision, winced. "Oh, no! Sorry about that!" he called out, rushing to Cellbit's aid.
The courtyard fell momentarily silent as both the people there - the one who was hit by the ball and the one that threw it, assessed the literary debris scattered around them.
Cellbit, recovering from the surprise, managed a forced smile. "It's okay, just... unexpected I gues-" he cut out the rest of his words. Because right there those dumb brown eyes were staring widely at him once more.
No fucking way.