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Luka Couffaine was pretty sure he had just met the girl of his dreams. She was gorgeous, and funny, and had the prettiest blue eyes and the sweetest laugh he had ever heard. Her table had already been seated when he came in for his shift, but he’d barely been there five minutes when one of her friends had said something that had got her laughing so hard the entire restaurant had had no choice but to look – and when she’d noticed, that smile…
She had ducked her head, covering her face as the most adorable blush had flooded her cheeks and spread straight to her ears, but the way her teeth had pressed into her lower lip as she’d smiled was…probably something that was going to keep him up that night. And the next. And…yeah.
By the time their entrees had arrived, he was gone.
The only problem was he wasn’t her waiter, so there really was no reason to go over and introduce himself, and as smitten as he was he wasn’t about to interrupt her night out and come across like some wacko creeper. Still, as he moved about the dining room, he found it impossible to keep his attention from straying to her as he worked. She was out with three of her friends, and it looked like they were celebrating something. She was adorable and a little awkward – and more than a little clumsy, as he learned when he was walking past and she got a little too animated retelling a story, sending her glass of wine flying off the table and straight into his stomach.
“Oh no!” she cried, twisting in her chair to search the floor for the broken glass. She paused when all she saw was a bit of stained carpet (that quickly disappeared when he dropped the towel he kept tucked into his apron on it). She looked up, her eyes growing wide as they moved up his body, until they landed on his own eyes and…was it just him, or did the whole world seem to stop spinning…? “S-sorry…”
“It’s ok,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur. He twirled the glass in his hands and smiled, and the blush staining her cheeks darkened. “No harm done – it’ll wash out.”
…and then her eyes dropped to his stomach, where a red stain was spreading along the top of the white apron. It was probably on his vest and white shirt, too, but the black fabric hid the stain well enough. Her eyes popped even wider, and damn. But then she was clapping her hands over her open mouth and shaking her head.
“Oh, gosh! I am so sorry! That…are you…I’m the worst!” she groaned, and he chucked as he waved her off. He picked the towel up from the floor, using the cleaner edge to dab at his waist a bit, and he missed the way that made her swallow.
“It’s ok,” he said. “No one was actually hurt. Can I offer you a replacement drink, Mlle…?”
“M-Ma-Marinette!” she squeaked, and then she was groaning again as she ducked her face back into her hands. He chuckled again, and she peeked out over her fingertips to smile shyly at him. “…um. Yes, please. Thank you. The sangria.”
“I’ll be right back,” he said, and it was impossible to miss the high-pitched squeals and giggles as he walked away. He couldn’t entirely blame them: in his head, he was doing a damn good impression of his sister-in-law’s teakettle squeal himself.
He made it back to the bar without further incident, and as Tony went about getting M-Ma-Marinette’s replacement drink he hopped over to the terminal to record the drop. But when he pulled up the table in question and saw it had already been divvied up into separate checks…and the names those separate checks had gone under…
“Hey, Ding,” he called, grabbing his friend’s elbow as he tried to skirt past. There was a desert with lit sparklers sitting on the tray in Dingo’s arms, and he looked irritated at being stopped.
“What? Little busy, mate!” Dingo groaned. Luka pointed at the screen.
“What the hell?” he asked. Dingo groaned again and rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, the new system is shit,” he said. “They all wanted separate checks. Well…I think No Tits is covering All Tits, too? They’re celebrating an engagement. Now do you mind?”
Luka thought back to the other girls sitting at the table as he dropped his face in his hands. It made sense, in Dingo’s way, but it was also…Jesus Christ…
“Just go,” he groaned, twisting his fingers in his bangs and tugging. Once Dingo was gone, he looked back up at the names listed on the screen. Sure enough, two of them said No Tits and All Tits. There was also Some Tits and…Dude. He glanced back at the table, feeling only a little guilty when he clicked on No Tits’s check. Sure enough, two sangrias were listed there. He sighed and put in the replacement drink, which Tony had just brought over to him. When he saw the screen, the bartender snorted.
“Well, he’s not wrong,” he said, looking over at the table. “He is so lucky they’ll never see that, though. How long do you think he’d be on the couch if Bri did?”
“Bri’s known him too long,” Luka sighed, taking the drink. “She’d probably just…I don’t know. Keep him from her tits for a night.”
Tony laughed and clapped his back, and Luka just grinned before taking the drink back over to the table. Marinette smiled shyly at him as he placed it on the table by her plate, but Some Tits was in the middle of a story and he didn’t want to interrupt. He left to check on his own tables, and the night carried on as usual. They picked up a bit after that, and honestly it was hard to keep track of Marinette and her table – until fate (or Dingo) smiled kindly on him.
“What do you mean, you have to go?” Luka asked, his eyebrows lifting. “Ding. You still have a table to close out.”
“I know, I know, but it’s the last one, and normally I would wait – but Mum just called, and Dad fell or something, and she needs help, Lu,” Dingo said. “Please? Just ring ‘em out when they’re done. You can keep my tip and everything.”
And Luka was swamped with his own tables, but…Dingo was a friend. One of his oldest friends, and as annoying as he could be he was a decent guy. And as much of an ass as his dad could be…it was still his dad. Luka waved him off and told him to get lost, and Dingo smacked a kiss against his cheek before shouting that he owed him and running out.
And then the night carried on some more, and then he was in the middle of ringing out a table when a throat cleared beside him.
“Yes?” he asked, hitting print before he looked up – and promptly froze, because Marinette was standing right there, somehow looking more beautiful than she had all night, and smiling shyly at him as she nervously shifted from foot to foot. Her arms were folded in front of her stomach, her coat draped over them, and some distant part of Luka’s foggy brain said that was important.
“H-hi, um…I have to go,” she said. “Dingo…our waiter? He said you’d be taking over for him. Can I get my check? It should be under Marinette.”
…and that’s when Luka remembered that no, it wasn’t.
“Sure thing, M-Ma-Marinette,” he said with an easy smile, pulling up the table and the check in question. He paused and looked back at her, but she was groaning and hiding her face in her coat.
“I can’t believe I said that…I am so sorry. Again,” she sighed. He smiled easily at her when she looked back up.
“And I’m fine. Again,” he said. His smile grew as she smiled back at him. “It was just wine. You didn’t even break the glass – no harm, right?”
“You’re too kind,” she said, smiling up at him. He tried to ignore the way that smile made his heart skip a beat or two.
“Dingo had said something about one of you covering two checks – was that you?” he asked. She nodded.
“Yes. Alya just got engaged, and we’re celebrating. She’s my best friend, so I’m paying for both of us,” she said. Her smile brightened a little. “We’re most of the bridal party.”
“Congratulations,” he said, clicking on All Tits, merging it with No Tits (why hadn’t the dumbass just done that in the first place???), and closing them out. He hit print and handed her the receipt. “Here you are, M-Ma-Marinette.”
…her smile had disappeared.
She was staring at the receipt, her brow furrowed, and her smile was gone. Why was her smile gone? What…?
“..yep,” she said, nodding stiffly. “Here…here I am. Um. Here. Just…keep the change. Thanks. Bye.”
She shoved the receipt and a fistful of euros at him, and before he could even check to make sure she had given him enough she had turned and was fleeing the restaurant.
“Mari…?” he started to ask, frowning as he looked down at the receipt. His face paled when he saw the guest name printed at the top, something the old system had never ever ever done and no no no…because her receipt read, in dark letters right at the top: All No Tits. He looked up, his stomach dropping to his feet as he saw her pink coat disappear out the front door. “Marinette!”
He ran after her, the money and receipt still fisted in his hand and his boss shouting after him as he took off. She was fast, but so was he: she hadn’t even made it to the corner before he was reaching for her wrist.
“Marinette, wait!” he cried, stumbling to a stop behind her. He felt her tense, and he shook his head as he squeezed her wrist. “That’s not…I am so sorry! You weren’t supposed to see that!”
“…so you were calling me ‘All No Tits’ all night?” she asked, turning to stare up at him with wide eyes. He shook his head, swallowing as he noticed the tears gathering in her eyes. “I-I mean…it’s not wrong, so I guess I can’t really be mad, but…”
“It may not be wrong, but it’s rude as hell,” he said. She sucked in a breath, and he shook his head with a groan. “No! I mean…it is wrong! You have great tits!” Her eyes widened even more, and he groaned as he let go of her hand to drop his face in his hands. “Not that I was looking!”
He stood there, desperately wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole, when…she laughed. He looked up, his eyebrows lifting, to find she was kind of…smiling at him. She was still blushing, and that smile still looked a little awkward, but it was still a smile.
“Dingo put the names in,” he said. “He’s…an idiot. I am so sorry – it wasn’t supposed to print that. We just got a new POS system. The old one printed table number, but it never printed guest name – even if you had to split the bill. It…you weren’t supposed to see that. He’s a jerk. I am so sorry.”
She giggled. It was small, and nervous, but it was still a giggle, and he would take it. She was biting down on her smile again, and he offered her a hesitant one in reply.
“…he could’ve just asked my name, you know,” she said. “You did.”
“We…are two very different people,” he said, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “I would’ve just called…Alya, you said it was? You said you were celebrating her engagement. Bride to Be or something. Maybe Rainbow and Pink for your other friends, because of their hair.”
“And what would you have called me?” she asked, taking a small step closer. He looked up, his heart leaping into his throat as those big, beautiful eyes stared up at him.
“…Gorgeous,” he breathed, and then she was blushing again as her eyes widened. He bit back the apology dancing on the tip of his tongue, because while he was sorry if he’d made her uncomfortable, he wasn’t sorry for stating the truth. She really was gorgeous.
“I…I could take that,” she said after a moment, nodding slowly. “I like it better than All No Tits, at least.”
“…it was just No Tits, but when I merged your receipt with All Tits…I don’t know if that makes it any better,” he sighed, hanging his head again.
“It…it really doesn’t,” she said, giggling a little as she shook her head. “It’s ok, um…”
“Luka,” he said quickly. She smiled at the information.
“Luka…” she said, like she was feeling the name out and liked it. She reached up, tucking some hair behind her ear. “It’s ok. It wasn’t you.”
“I wouldn’t have mentioned your tits at all,” he said, shaking his head. She bit down on her lip again.
“But you did,” she said. “You said they were great, remember?”
“…kill me now,” he laughed, shaking his head. She giggled, and he smiled at the sound. God, she had a great laugh… “Have a great night, M-Ma-Marinette.”
“W-wait!” she called as he turned to go. She had reached for his arm this time, and he paused as he looked back at her. She nodded to his hands. “Um…I didn’t…I was a little flustered. Can I make sure I gave you enough? I don’t even know if I covered the tip. And don’t I have to sign it?”
“…oh,” he said, nodding. “Um, yeah. Here.”
He handed her the fistful of money and receipt, and he waited as she checked her math before reaching for her purse in search of a pen. He cleared his throat and held out the spare he kept in his pocket, and she smiled gratefully at him before scribbling something at the bottom of the receipt. She handed it back over with an easier smile.
“Thanks again, Luka,” she said. Her smile turned a bit mischievous. “…I’m gonna have to come up with something good for you, you know. No Tits doesn’t exactly work in reverse, does it?”
He laughed and shook his head. He kinda loved the implication, that she’d be back and looking for him again. That she wanted to find a nickname for him.
“Well, it would be accurate. Not a tit to be seen,” he quipped, winking at her as he gestured to his chest. She snorted, biting back on another laugh, and his smile grew. “My sister likes to use Stupid. Usually it’s annoying, but I’m afraid she might actually be right tonight.”
“Ok, Stupid,” she giggled. “I can work with that.”
“Yeah?” he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“Yeah,” she said, glancing at the receipt in his hands before grinning at him. “Maybe.”
“Stupid and tit-less,” he said, grinning at her. “We could make quite the pair, M-Ma-Marinette.”
She was laughing as he bowed and turned back to the restaurant. She was still standing by the corner, watching him with that fond, kinda nervous smile as he reached the door and slipped back inside. He offered her a final wave, and the streetlight shining down on her offered just enough light to reveal her blush had returned before she spun on her heel and disappeared around the corner.
His manager was nowhere to be seen by the time he made it back to the POS terminal, which Luka was kinda glad for when he went to check the receipt and realized there was more writing under the signature line.
…she’d left him her number.
And a note, telling him to call her. If he really thought she was Gorgeous with Great Tits.
He was ripping off the bottom of the receipt, because like hell he was going to leave that note in the drawer. No, it was going straight in his pocket, where he could copy it onto his phone later, where…
“Luka!” his manager hissed as he hurried out of the back with a tray stacked with plates. “Get a move on – we’re too swamped for you to ditz out tonight!”
The note was in his pocket and he was back in the fray a moment later. He had a feeling he’d have to call Dingo later and thank him.
…after he called M-Ma-Marinette.
Since.
Y’know.
He’d just met the girl of his dreams and all.