'BEEF BUTTON' AND 'THE FEAR' PLEASE (I'm yelling because I'm excited) with Taakitz.
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Kravitz can do this. He can. It’s easy, probably. Normal people would find it easy, and he’s normal enough, ergo, fucking, do it, coward. He squeezes the pinback button a little too tight in his hands and inhales when the stupid thing pokes him, because it’s sharp, because it’s a button. Stupid. Normal, though, so normal, and regular? Categorically.
Hey, you dropped this. Easy. He can use that smoldery voice he practices in the shower. Hey, you dropped this? Minor edit, more inviting. Maybe? Is this yours? I found it on the floor. Very sexy. Tenouttaten, layable. Bangtastic. His fuckable nature and awkward swag are legendarical. He’s gonna floor this whole fucking cafeteria with just how awesome this interaction goes.
God, he is sweating. If it was some rando, it would be easy enough. Well, not like, Easy easy. He’d take it to lost and found. Or? Honestly? Keep it. It’s not like some show or a dumb thing. This button is bright red and just says BEEF. That rules, what the fuck? Kravitz needs to understand. So he has to interact. It’s math. Probably. He graduated and never looked back, honestly.
Why the BEEF? Why? What could possibly necessitate such a strong statement?? But this guy isn’t just some rando, he’s Dreamy…. Like, legitimately. Like, magazineworthy, like, commercially, like Kravitz has run into him four and a Half times and thinks of him OFTEN, you know, #normally, and is categorically regular about imagining what that long pink hair looks like out of that thick braid that could be a weapon, and that charming gap in his teeth, and the bootyshorts that say CONSTANTLY ALIVE, or that skirt that left glitter all over the floor, or the platform shoes that rattled full of actual aquarium gravel and gummy sharks, or- or- or- or-
Beef. It’s what’s for winners. Winners who best social anxiety and return the cool button to the hot guy. Winners who can talk words good and do tasks and complete objectives.
He’s rooted to the fucking spot with The Fear ™. But he can do this. He’s gonna do it right now.
Aaaaand go.
Nope. This time. AAAAAAAaaand go. Shoot, one more. Third time’s the charm. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand-
“Oi-” he says, wincing internally at the sound that comes out of his face, but somehow he has…already committed to the bad accent. “Did you drop this?”
“Huh?” he gets in return. Taako looks up at him from his book and wrinkles his nose, and his freckles dance, and he is the sun, and Kravitz should have worn sunscreen today. “What?”
“This button, the BEEF button, it’s yours? Seems like something you’d have. On your person. Or objects you possess. Is it?” He is sweating. Why did he wear all black today? Well, he always wears all black, but why?
“Oh, yeah! Thanks, man.” Taako holds out his hand to take it. Kravitz is pretty sure his name is Taako. When he orders his iced coffee drinks he half-sings T-double A- K- O. And Kravitz has NOT been writing it in his journal like a lovesick middle schooler. That would be sad. And he doesn’t even own a gel pen. So there.
“No problem,” Kravitz’s accent warbles and changes, and Taako kind of tilts his head at him. “What’s it for? What- what’s the BEEF?”
Taako laughs.
“It’s vintage,” he says. “God knows. This ancient beef rose before me and will fall after I am gone. The BEEF is eternal, you know? What’s your handle, scented candle?”
“Kravitz,” Kravitz manages. “And…cinnamon sugar, maybe.”
Taako blinks.
“F-, uh, for the candle? Did you not-”
“Ohh,” Taako says. “Taako.” He jabs a thumb at his chest. “Mmmmmm…Spice rack.”
“Spice rack?” Kravitz is so taken aback he drops the accent entirely. “Like…oregano and garlic powder?”
“Absolutely,” Taako says. “Everybody is like, what smells so good, what are you cooking? And you hit ‘em with the fact that they wanna eat wax. Hilarious.”
“Avant garde, even.” Kravitz shakes his head. “I, uh,” and nothing else comes out of his mouth. Taako lets him hang there for an uncomfortable amount of time, and then snorts.
“You busy later, homeboy? I’ve been meaning to go to that new restaurant, but I thought it would be weird to go alone?”
“Burrito Boyfriend? I, hadn’t, plans- yes? I would love to get a boyfriend- I mean- I would love to get a burrito with you. Taako. Yes.”
Taako laughs hard enough that he makes a beautiful noise, and he covers his mouth, but too late. Kravitz is in love with him.
Fuck. And all because of a little ground beef.
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