#wooow gays on the express | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

despisydraws · 4 years

Text

Okay, so this went from headcanons to a one-shot draft real fast and I'm 100% not sorry to fill your entire timeline with trans Courfeyrac's first meeting with the Amis and his coming-out story

Enjoy this mess of a bullet point half-oneshot that has somehow gotten the length of 1,7k words, with no beta because we die like men

-It took Courf quite a long time to figure out what it was that made him so uncomfortable with himself and even once he came to conclusion he just tried to repress it

-He used to dress in extremely feminine clothes (mostly out of fear that nobody would want him anymore otherwise)

-Yep, right, he was super scared of being alone in the world and he constantly needed the assurance that he was needed

-He had a bunch of super shitty boyfriends who treated him like dirt and only wanted him as a status symbol, to have 'a hotter girlfriend than the others'

-He was so tired of being cheated on and used, but he felt so alone and helpless that he tried to hold on to every. single. one. of those douchebags

-That made them even greater assholes, of course, like a confidence boost (disgusting)

-He got rid of them only by them getting rid of him, what happened after a fairly short time (because 'He was just so clingy' and 'they never wanted a long-term relationship they just wanted some fun') (I repeat: disgusting)

-After an especially bad breakup, which he reasoned by himself not behaving enough as the girl he should be ('shitty-ex also said that, so it's true, right?'), his almost frantic femininity got even worse

-That was the phase in which he met Combeferre

-Courf was sitting in the corner of a very empty cafe, staring into his cup without drinking

-Ferre has to deal with the Amis, so he's kind of a hobby-therapist, he came over immediately and asked to sit with him

-He just sensed that something was off about 'the girl who constantly shoves her beautiful long curls back as if they were tiny snakes trying to bite her, who kneads the hem of her short dress nervously, trying not to let anyone see, who shifts her feet in her heels as if she stood on needles' - it reminded him of Enjolras, but in less furious and more hurt

-They chat a little and Ferre gets him to attend one of the amis' meetings

-They go there together, there is a mirror in the corridor of the cafe next to the coat rack, where Courf stops dead and just gazes at what has become of him

-Ferre just tries to calm him by saying 'don't worry, you look wonderful.' And Courf immediately clenches his jaw, because 'oh, great, another one of those guys...'

-Anyway they attend the meeting and Courf is absolutely in awe over Enjolras, about his strength and confidence, generally just his aura which is almost visible to him, red and burning

-Feuilly, who is a hobby-hairdresser and cuts cuts the hair of all of the Amis for free, takes one look at him and immediately goes "wooow, I'd love to cut your hair, can I cut it? Look at all those cool and sexy hairstyles over here *gestures to Bahorel* and here *gestures to Joly who grins and waves at him*, okay, over here I messed up *gestures to Bossuet, who notices Courfs mortified expression and goes 'no, don't worry, I'm naturally bald he's just joking!'* and Feuilly laughs and goes on with his rambling" but Courf is like 'no way, you're not gonna touch my hair, wtf?' And he avoids Feuilly because he has a vague feeling that the redhead is a huge creep...

-Enjolras takes one look at Courf and then turns to Ferre with a raised eyebrow

-They have something like a telepathic discussion about Courf, Ferre desperately wants to keep him because he just feels that it's right but Enjolras can't stand him because his behavior seems so fake (he can't get behind it yet, he tends to judge people immediately, like an instinct, and he really doesn't want a 'little prom queen Ferre wants to go off with' in his activist group. He should really know Ferre a little better than that, given the fact that they grew up together, and know that he's got his reasons, but Enj had a very bad day so he goes with whatever his mind tells him)

-Courf gets along quite alright with the others, especially with Bahorel, Grantaire and Jehan (even though he thinks they're a little weird) and 'that Joly is cute I guess'

-After the meeting they all get ready to go home and most of them have left already, Jehan suddenly comes up to him and hugs him deeply, saying how much they wish for Courf to stay with the group

How? How could anyone resist that?

-So Courf comes back a few times and when they plan to go on vacation with the group to strengthen the team spirit and mayyybe just have a chill weekend for once Courf is already included in the plans without them even asking him

-They go by train to a summer cottage Jehans parents own at the coast of Spain, right at the beach

-Courf shares a room with Grantaire and Joly and Bossuet, Enj and Ferre share a smaller room and Jehan sleeps with Feuilly and Bahorel on a huge extendible couch

-Let's say this is at a point where Courf has already gotten so much queer influence from this group that he is just confused and absolutely can't tell anymore who he is, because, apparently it's okay to not feel the same way your body lookw?? But that's colliding with everything he learned from the shitty douchebag boyfriends and his clique he had a few years ago????

-His mind is absolutely overwhelmed and he doesn't know what to do anymore, the assumption he had about himself is proving true at an alarming speed and he can't repress it anymore.

-Even though his is with such an open minded group now, he still fears to be cast out once he opens up

-He fears that they would think he was shamming himself again to fit in more ('I presented myself so different when he first met them, it would be strange, right? It would seem like a lie if I told them!')

-He sleeps less and cries a lot, this holiday should have been relieving but it has become the horror to him

-Everytime he sees Joly and Bossuet kissing, everytime Enjolras lifts his shirt in the heat, showing his scars and Grantaires' longing gazes, he excuses himself. He sits in the bathroom quietly, staring at the wall, until a person comes along who has to use it

-One night he can't take it anymore

-There's Grantaire and Bossuet snoring to both sides of him and Joly shifting in his boyfriend's arms the entire time, sometimes pressing a pillow on his face to stop the noise

-There is too much sound, too much movement around him so the thoughts that need to be thought, if not at daytime, then at least at night, get even louder

-He stands up with his blanket underneath one arm and quietly leaves the room into the dark hallway. His knees are shaking and all he wishes for is to break down on the floor but his body just can't pass that point of desperation, so he stumbles around until his hands find the next doorhandle and pushes it

-There is a muffled voice, saying "Don't even try it, Jehan, I hid your notebook. Go to sleep, write that thought down tomorrow..."

-When there is no reaction a bedside lamp is switched on, revealing Combeferres sleepy face

- "Ferre, turn the goddamn light on one more time and I'll kill you" Enjolras grunts from the other bed, turning his back to the room

-Combeferre just quietly signs for Courfeyrac to lay down next to him after he took one look at his face and he does (Ferre is after all still the one he trusts most)

-He crawls underneath Ferres blanket and buries his face against the latter one's chest and then everything just starts streaming out of him, all of his thoughts, all of his feelings, he just talks about everything for the first time

-As he ends there is silence and Combeferre places a kiss on his head when he starts to cry again

-Enjolras just quietly apologizes for being rude to him all the times before and stands up, moving over to the two of them

-He starts to tell Courfeyrac the story of his own coming out, how he got kicked out by his parents and had to move out of the city and live with Combeferre and something about the story calms him down

-He falls asleep sandwiched between Ferre and Enj after they had to promise to not tell anyone about it yet

-The next night he feels better but he is still restless

-He's up again, quietly shifting to the living room where he shakes Feuilly awake

C:"Can you help me with something?"

F:"Sure, what is it?"

C:"Cut my hair..."

-Feuilly is out and about in an instant and soon there is light in the kitchen, Courf is sitting on a stool they found in a small storeroom and Feuilly comes in with a grin and a pair of scissors

-The next morning the others almost don't recognize him anymore, if not because of his looks then because of his aura. He is genuinely happy for the first time in what feels like an eternity

-Even Enj is grinning when he sees him and stands up from the table where they are eating breakfast, putting an arm around his shoulders

"Listen here my boy, you don't know what danger you just put yourself in. Look at them, they're all gay and ready to eat you alive"

-The entire table bursts in chaos, Joly spits out his juice, Bahorel is screaming from the top of his lungs, Grantaire is muttering "I'm so in love, I'm so in love, I'm so in love" over and over again and Bossuet jumps up from his chair so suddenly it falls over "Enjolras made a joke?! Enjolras is funny?! My life is a lie!"

-Courfeyrac just laughs with them, glad that Enjolras saved him from all the awkward questions for now

-He sits down next to Combeferre and shoots him a small look

"Are you also, you know... gay and ready to eat me alive?" He chuckles and Combeferre turns his head into his direction with an amused smile "Eating you would be a little harsh, don't you think? But I admit, I have been thinking of eating with you this evening" "Are you... asking me out?" "What else could I have intended with that?"

And they all live happily ever after, finish, yaaay

75 notes · View notes

gunsatthaphan · 4 years

Text

RULES: Name 10 favorite characters from 10 different things then tag 10 people + leave comments on all of them

I was tagged by @dollopheadsandclotpoles thank youuu!!!! 💚💚

(shows are mixed & in no particular order; also I apologize in advance as I’m absolutely the worst at describing and reasoning the things I like skfsdj)

1. Ae (Love By Chance) homeboy had to be the first one on this list bc I’m still so in awe of him. It sounds weird but he’s just so real?? like whatever he says or does I feel and believe every single bit of it. Perth really did a phenomenal job at giving one of the most accurate and believable portrayals of an 18 year old boy; truly 👌🏻

2. Zon (Why R U) Literally 3 seconds into ep1 and I knew he was my child and I will protect him with my life and to this day nothing has changed. He’s a true disaster but I absolutely love his energy and his vulnerability; he’s a lot more versatile than he seems at first and I truly love him 🥺

3. Sarawat (2Gether) I still find his character fascinating and I know I keep repeating myself but Bright’s micro expressions??? *chef’s kiss* absolutely outstanding. I’m a bitch for hard-shell-soft-core-characters and he fulfills every bit of that. The fact that we get to witness the process of him softening up the more he’s around Tine and the more he falls in love is so amazing to watch and truly a blessing 💜

4. Third (Theory of Love) my ride or die lol he’s the easiest to put on this list; I related to him so much when I was watching the show, not only because of his situation with Khai but also bc of his love for storytelling and film like, in every scene I was like “wooow me” bc hell yes this is exactly what it feels like. 11/10 would adopt. 🤧

5. Hao Ting (History MODC) The absolute king of soft Himbos. I love everything about him. His duality of being the biggest jock-dumbass to becoming the softest teddy around the people he loves and cares about makes my heart jump out of my chest. A+ 😩

6. Thun (He’s Coming To Me) The softest boi and I’m still blown away by his A+ CO story like... just wow. never seen a better one tbh. no “I’m only gay for you “ bs but instead they really gave us a genuine and realistic story with a well written and developed character? I still can’t believe it. 🥰

7. Mia (Druck) The German version of Skam’s Noora and honestly she’s my favorite from all the characters in the Skam universe. Her mannerisms and character traits when she’s with her friends remind me a lot of me and my friends; Admittedly the story with her and Alex could’ve ended on a better note but I still like how they adapted it and kind of turned it around. I just love her 💙

8. Alice (Good Trouble) Idk if my followers know her but she is my absolute queen and I adore everything about her. I see myself a lot in her and her humor is absolutely killing me. Would definitely sell my soul to be friends with her 😍

9. Davia (Good Trouble) !!!!! My other queen !!!!! I don’t think I’ve ever related more to a character than to her and it’s the first time I’ve felt genuinely represented on television. Her story is real and I just feel everything about her like!!!! YES!!! I just love her to death and I’m looking forward to seeing her again in season 3!!! 💋

10. Simon (Shadowhunters) Anyone who has been following me for a while knows I used to be a Shadowhunters blog and even though I was Malec trash, Simon has always been my mvp of the show. His dorkiness and loyalty has always felt like an anchor in this show to me somehow and even though I wasn’t the biggest fan of Climon, I’ve always loved his friendship dynamic with Clary 💕

thanks for tagging me!!! I’m tagging @emisfritish @pcktzaintsee @tharntypesupportclub @jiiangzai @lostinbl @izzy-jellybaby @seren-ii @gulfkanawut @maddieyanchan @thehuns-bubble-tea

and everyone else who wants to do it! ♥ ♥ ♥

55 notes · View notes

valeriianz · 7 years

Text

Oliver is renting out his apartment and Connor is a prospective sublet (and a shameless flirt). idk how to summarize.

Bzz bzz.

Oliver popped another apple slice into his mouth, checking his phone.

It was a text from Connor Walsh, a man who'd seen Oliver's ad for a sublet to his apartment. They'd been chatting on and off for about a day now, general questions like, “how does payment work?” or “are pets allowed?” or “what about roof access?” sporadically popping into Oliver's messages.

This time, the message read:

Hey! I know we scheduled to meet tomorrow but I'm off work early and would love to see the apartment now, if you're available.

Oliver looked around his living room, untidy and kind of smelly (his garbage needed to be taken out), before looking down at himself. Draw string sweatpants and a tattered old shirt from college draped over his, thankfully, clean body. Oliver had just got out of the shower.

When could you be here? Oliver replied, he only needed to do some mild cleaning, maybe light a candle... or two.

Idk, 30 minutes at most. I'm getting to my car now.

Oliver nodded to himself.

That should be fine. You still have the address?

Yep! I'll text you when I'm there.

Oliver nodded again, blowing a sigh out from his mouth and standing up, making his way to the kitchen to prepare for a fast cleaning.

He lit a strong scented candle first, setting it on the island before taking out the garbage and recycling, wiping down the counters and tidying his bedroom, fixing the linen on the bed to look picturesque.

It was while he was washing his hands, that Oliver's phone buzzed again, a simple two-word text from Connor lighting up the screen:

I'm here.

Oliver grumbled when he realized he was still in his pajamas but figured whatever, slipping on some shoes and grabbing his keys, shutting the door behind him and taking the stairs down into the lobby.

A man hovered outside the door, hands stuffed into jacket pockets and looking off to the side. Oliver took a steadying inhale, forcing his lips up into a polite smile, and opened the door.

And almost abruptly fell to the floor.

Chocolate brown eyes turned to Oliver, accompanied by a sharp smile that could most definitely pass as a smirk, a corner of his lips pulling up and revealing a tiny bit of teeth.

“Oliver?”

“Uh, yes, Connor?” Oliver nodded, pulling the door open wide and stepping aside to let Connor in.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Connor turned, that smile still in place as he extended a hand to shake.

Oliver let the door fall closed, taking Connor's hand customarily, squeezing hard because it was an unspoken rule, but also because Connor's grip was tight and final, even though he had noticeably smaller hands. He felt embarrassed, letting his hand fall naturally, for increasing his grip just because Connor had a firmer handshake. Oliver was sure the other man felt that, and if that wasn't the silliest thing Oliver had ever done...

Well, it wasn't. Maybe accidentally checking out Connor while they stood in the lobby was the silliest thing Oliver had ever done, because he just did it.

Connor's eyes flashed something mischievous as their gaze met again (after Oliver pulled his eyes up from Connor's shoes, to the seat of his pants, to his neck and stubbled face). Oliver stuttered, walking past Connor quickly, headed for the stairs. Oliver thought he heard a light chuckle behind him.

“Ah, so, the apartment is on the third floor...” Oliver started, leading them up and around corridors.

“I thought I saw an elevator downstairs?” Connor supplied conversationally.

“Yeah well, you know it's just three flights, not much of a work out,” Oliver threw a smile over his shoulder as he rounded another corner. Truthfully, he just didn't want to stand in a small space with this guy, dreading the awkward silence, or Connor pointing out how audaciously Oliver had looked over Connor's body. God, what had he been thinking!

“303,” Oliver nudged his head at the bronze plating on his door before letting them in, returning Connor's infectious smile.

“Wooow,” Connor's eyebrows shot up, looking around. “It's so much better than the pictures.”

“Yeah?” Oliver couldn't help the prideful smile, leaning against a wall as Connor stepped in, observing his home.

“You said everything is staying?”

“Yeah,” Oliver pushed himself off the surface, stepping slowly with Connor. I'll be back by March, just doing a temporary gig.”

“So I could pretend all this décor is my brainchild, and I'm just gay enough to pull it off.”

Oliver laughed lightly. “You should give me some credit, I put my heart and soul into picking out a color pallet.”

Connor snickered too, and Oliver caught himself staring at the young man's profile, how his nose pointed and how sharp his jaw line was, perfectly complimenting that slender neck. Oliver swallowed, wringing his hands out nervously and looking away as Connor turned toward him.

“Anyway,” Oliver shoved his fiddling hands into his pants pockets, pinching the thick material from the inside. “The living room. I have a Playstation, if that interests you, but I mostly use it for Netflix so, you can totally sign in from there if you have an account...”

Connor only nodded, walking to the kitchen with Oliver.

“I like the kitchen,” Connor commented, checking out the appliances and resting his hands on the island. “Lots of counter space.”

Oliver choked on a gasp, coughing into his arm awkwardly. His neck was hot and he averted his eyes from Connor. For some reason, the way Connor said “counter space” was laced with... innuendo, and his eyes narrowed devilishly. As if “counter” was a dirty word... as if he meant to say, “lots of counter space for fucking someone on.”

And Oliver didn't know why he thought that. He could have sworn Connor licked his lips though.

“You alright?” Connor asked, smiling. Yep, he was definitely smiling, showing off brilliant white teeth.

Oliver rubbed his hands over the back of his neck, willing the heat to go away, forcing a smile. “I'm fine...” he huffed, shaking his head and pushing his glasses further up his nose. “Let's look at the bedroom.”

“Where all the action happens?” Connor nearly strutted out of the kitchen, giving Oliver a cheeky smile.

Oliver laughed dryly at that. “Hardly.”

After the bedroom (Connor sitting on Oliver's bed, “testing the comfort”) and bathroom, the grand tour was over quickly, finding both men sitting on the couch facing each other.

“I really like this place,” Connor started, pulling a knee up and holding it in place on the cushion.

Oliver nodded. “I never got to ask you, but why are you looking to sublet?”

“Ah, got an internship, only lasts through winter so it's kind of perfect to only stay here 'til March,” Connor looked down at Oliver's throw pillows, fiddling with a stray thread.

Oliver hummed. “Got any plans to stay in Philly afterwards?”

It was meant to be a simple question, an ice breaker, but Oliver wasn't sure if his tone implied personal interest. He kind of hoped it did.

Connor shrugged, his cocky smile fading for the first time since he arrived and fixing Oliver with honest eyes. “Maybe, if another opportunity arrives.”

“Like what?” Oliver pulled his legs up, crossing them on the couch and facing Connor fully.

Connor's lips parted, like he was about to answer, before laughing it off, looking elsewhere. “I don't know. A job or... a hot guy who could convince me to live a city life.”

Oliver's heart was racing, he hated how caught up he was with this total stranger who was barely into grad school. But something drew him to Connor, maybe charisma or how devastatingly handsome he was, either way Oliver knew he was done for as soon as Connor stepped into the building.

“You like living in the country?”

“Sometimes,” Connor grinned. “But there's no opportunity out there, especially for lawyers, ugh.”

Oliver smiled in humor along with Connor, unaware of the comfortable silence building between them, sitting together on Oliver's couch and smiling at one another. It was when Oliver caught Connor's eyes, for a brief moment-- not even for a half second, flick down, as if considering Oliver's lips, before darting back up and away from his stare, that Oliver figured this had gone on long enough.

“Well, shoot me a text if you're interested and I'll set up the paperwork for you.” Oliver uncrossed his legs, avoiding Connor's eyes and fighting down a blush creeping up his neck again.

Connor dropped the pillow back on the couch, standing up fast. “Sure thing.”

Connor walked with Oliver to the door, where the latter held it open for him. But they hovered instead, feet frozen, bodies wanting to linger, unable to step away from each other from some unknown force.

“I'm like, 95 percent sure I want this place.”

Oliver smiled. “Good, that'll help me sleep at night.”

“Yeah,” Connor added unnecessarily, clapping his hands together.

Oliver's finger's drummed on the door, wondering why he couldn't shut it just yet.

“Um, if you have any other questions or concerns you can think of, please ask. I feel like I missed something.”

“Sure thing,” Connor nodded, finally smiling like a normal person, controlled and friendly. “I'll text you.”

“Okay,” Oliver returned the smile, slowly closing the door on Connor.

With a nod and goodbye, the door finally made it home, the lock clicking into place. Oliver turned, leaning back against the door and sighing loudly, rubbing his eyes underneath the glasses. Jesus, he acted like an imbecile... or a teenage girl. Either would work for this situation. He was pretty sure he hadn't felt so nervous and giddy around a guy since his first semester of college.

Knocking at the door startled Oliver, a small scream hiccuping from his throat.

Oliver laid his hand on his heart, groaning at himself and turning again, door knob in hand, and pulling it open, coming face-to-face with Connor.

Oliver blinked. Connor looked... shy, hopeful, with that underlying confidence tearing free in the way his lips quirked at whatever expression Oliver was wearing (probably pure, unadulterated happiness).

“Hey,” Connor greeted again, like they didn't just see each other 30 seconds ago. “I know this is weird but, I'd actually like to text you about anything, not just apartment stuff...” Connor took a step closer and Oliver could almost smell something woodsy-- earthy, cologne probably. It nearly knocked Oliver off his feet, making him silently beg for Connor to come even closer.

“Maybe, about your day, or your job, or when I could take you out to dinner.”

Oliver's jaw dropped before his lips stretched out into an impossibly wide smile, laughing at himself for having such a reaction to... such a smoothly executed line. Oliver couldn't even remember the last time someone asked him out for dinner.

“Is that a yes?” Connor's smug air was back, daring himself to take another step, inches away from Oliver.

“Yes,” Oliver answered softly, assuredly.

The smile that broke out on Connor's face nearly matched Oliver's, but with less teeth, more playful and victorious.

“May I come back in?”

“You're pushing your luck,” Oliver said instead of dragging Connor in by his jacket collar, which he so wanted to do.

Connor's smile refused to falter, brows narrowing like he didn't believe Oliver for a second. But he stepped off anyway.

“I'll text you, then.”

Oliver nodded. “Good bye, Connor.”

“Bye, Oliver.”

#coliver #connor walsh #oliver hampton #htgawm #my writing #feels so good to write these guys again #inspired by something that happened to me #fun times

31 notes · View notes

5hfanfiction · 7 years

Text

Such Great Heights (Chapter 4)

Ever since moving to the city, Camila knew there was something magical about winter in Chicago.

Though sunny summer days permit walks through the various parks and perhaps a more comfortable climate, there’s an atmosphere that doesn’t compare to when a blanket of snow covers the city.

Her favorite thing about this time of year is Christmas and how the city decorates the streets for it. How she can hear Christmas tunes being played throughout nearly every store on the famed Magnificent Mile, and how the holiday spirit is infectious among everyone. Although that time has since passed, it’s still the perfect weather for enjoying a cup of hot cocoa.

One of the top reasons she looks forward to winter is because of the ice skating rink across from Millennium Park.

It’s free as long you bring your own skates, and even then, renting a pair only costs five dollars. Next to the rental stand is an indoor coffee kiosk where you can shelter yourself from the cold with your favorite hot beverage.

Camila normally goes to the rink with Dinah, but she’s visited alone on a couple occasions. Sometimes, her favorite thing isn’t skating. It’s watching the people who are skating. She always has trouble holding in her laughter when she sees a little kid fall, and she can’t help but smile at the couples who skate while holding each other’s hands. She often finds herself drifting off into a fantasy—one where she is with someone special to her. The minute she visited the rink for the first time ever, she immediately knew that it was the perfect date spot.

She hasn’t had the best luck dating either. Unlike Lauren, she doesn’t have a history of exes who either broke her heart or got their heart broken because of her. She also doesn’t have a history of casual sex.

It’s not that she didn’t want all of this. Camila was a normal girl who pined over boys in high school and then, eventually in college, girls. Contrary to Lauren, she was accepting of her sexuality and embraced it from the start. This wasn’t the source of her problem. She just found that she would pine over people who could or would never want her back.

Thus, the moment she found herself her first ever opportunity to take someone out on a date, she couldn’t resist going all out. Maybe it was a little extra. Maybe coercing her best friend into handing her a reservation at the five-star restaurant she managed and convincing her to pick up the tab for them as a little too much…especially for someone who was so mean to her initially.

But she’s in her last year of college. God only knows how much longer it would have taken for another opportunity to fall in her lap, so she took this date and ran with it. She can only hope that Lauren warms up to it as much as she has.

“Well…here’s part two,” Camila points to the rink. “I hope you like ice skating! I mean…it’s fine if you don’t, we can just go on a walk through the park.”

“I haven’t gone skating in so fucking long, holy shit,” Lauren’s face lights up with a grin. Skating was never huge in Miami, simply because it’s perpetually warm in South Florida. On a weekend, her and her friends would always go to the beach or go shopping—ice skating rarely ever crossed her mind. She went maybe once or twice with her family when she was younger. “I don’t have skates though…”

“That’s fine, we can rent them,” Camila leads her to the rental booth, which is now automated. She withdraws ten dollars and deposits it into the machine without even giving Lauren a chance to stop her from paying, because she knows she would. “What size are you?”

“An eight,” Lauren replies. “C'mon, I would have paid for my own. You treated us to a nice ass dinner.”

“More like Dinah did,” Camila taps the size 8 button and the size 7 for herself. Two pairs dispense in boxes at the bottom. “Now shush and put on your skates.”

The girls take a seat on one of the benches near the public lockers, untying their boots and slipping on the ice skates. They store their shoes in the free locker that unlocks based on a thumbprint.

“I’m probably the clumsiest person in the world. Like, trip up the stairs clumsy,” Camila warns Lauren as she stands up and they begin walking over to the rink. “But I’ve skated here a lot ever since I moved here and I haven’t killed myself in a freak accident yet, so I’m proud.”

“Yet. Keyword yet,” Lauren arches an eyebrow.

“Wooow. Thanks for the vote of confidence,” the younger girl shakes her head, feigning being hurt.

Right before they step onto the ice, it catches Camila’s eye that Lauren’s shoelaces are untied on her skates.

“Hold on,” she stops the other girl from walking any further, bending down carefully and tying her shoes. “If anyone would have died here, it would have been you.”

Lauren watches as Camila ties her skates, the smaller girl biting her lip in concentration as she makes sure that the knot is tight and won’t slip. She has an unfortunate habit of forgetting to tie her shoes—this was present even in the first stage of her life. It has led to a few sad incidents of her absolutely eating shit, yet despite all of the times this has caused her embarrassment, she still continues to forget.

“Thanks,” Lauren blushes. “Except I’m pretty sure it doesn’t make a difference because these laces aren’t long enough to cause anyone to fall.”

“Boy, someone’s stubborn,” Camila stands up. “See, that’s what you think. Then next thing you know, we’re on an episode of ‘100,000 Ways To Die’ – two gays on a date gone wrong. Death by ice skating shoelace.”

100,000 Ways To Die? Damn, last thing I knew it was 1,000. Lauren remarks internally. She supposes the advancement in technology in society must have created a multitude of new stupid ways for someone to accidentally die.

With both of their shoelaces completely tied and everything ready, the two step onto the ice. They’re both quite nervous at the moment, but both are doing the best they can to hide their nerves from one another. Camila may have more experience skating than Lauren, however she’s aware of how clumsy she is. And how her clumsiness is probably exaggerating even further when she’s trying to impress a cute girl. Lauren is just afraid that her body is going to fuck up in front of Camila…but even if she does fall, at least she won’t feel the pain.

They stand stationary on the ice, each of them waiting for the other to begin skating. People skate around them, narrowly avoiding ramming into them and causing a disaster.

“Well?” Lauren raises an eyebrow, expecting Camila to initiate because this is her spot after all.

“Well…” Camila hoped that Lauren would initiate, as that girl emits confidence without a second effort.

Finally, Lauren figures that they can’t just stand there forever. So she links her right arm with Camila’s left and pushes off on the ice, her knees wobbling below her as they glide across the rink side by side.

Although it was shaky at first, they quickly become accustomed to skating alongside one another. Lauren is careful not to skate at too fast of a speed, and Camila focuses extra hard on keeping in rhythm with the older girl. They move together like clockwork, adapting to one another with ease.

“Not bad for a Miami girl,” Camila notes how Lauren didn’t fall flat on her face the second she stepped onto the ice.

“You know, I used to do competitive figure skating in high school,” Lauren says nonchalantly.

Camila’s jaw drops in amazement and her eyebrows raise, her eyes filling with fascination. “Really?” she asks in awe.

Lauren giggles. “No. You’re gullible.”

“Hey, don’t be a meanie,” Camila slaps Lauren on the arm, almost causing the girl to lose her balance and tumble over. “It’s not like that was something crazy unbelievable! I wouldn’t have believed you if you said you were an Olympic figure skater.”

“Suuuure,” Lauren shakes her head in sarcastic disbelief. “So I’m a meanie now, huh?’

"Yes,” Camila unlinks her arm from Lauren, feigning upset. Crossing her arms, she pouts at the other girl.

In doing this, she loses focus on skating. And also causes a small bout of inattentional blindness on her part—she slams into a middle aged man in front of her, nearly toppling the both of them over. “Oh shit, sorry, sorry!” she apologizes profusely, only getting a dirty look from him as he skates away.

Lauren’s almost about to pee herself laughing at the scene. She has to stop at the side of the rink, holding onto the railing and doubling over with tears brimming in her eyes. It honestly wasn’t even that funny in the first place, but for some reason, she can’t stop laughing.

She hasn’t laughed this hard since waking up. And even before that, she hadn’t laughed so hard in a while.

It feels good to be filled with joy again.

“And now you’re laughing at my dismay?! Wow. You’ve been upgraded from Meanie to Mega Meanie,” Camila stops at the side, watching her date attempt to catch her breath from laughing so hard.

“As long as I don’t have to go to Meanie Hut Jr,” Lauren wipes the tears from her cheeks. She’s met with a look of confusion from Camila. “You know…like..Weenie Hut Jr.? From Spongebob?”

“Spongebob?” Camila furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

Oh shit. In those moments, Lauren completely forgot that she’s from a different age. Apparently they don’t have Spongebob in this day and age…how lame.

“Nothing,” Lauren quickly brushes her off, changing the subject. Camila’s arms are crossed again, and she has the fake-angry pout on her face that she expressed before running into the other man. Pulling the smaller girl into a tight embrace, she rubs her back and apologizes. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m being a meanie. I’ll tone it down. Know what? I’ll give you a free pass to be a Mega Meanie to me for the rest of the night. Like, I’ll even let you push me over.”

Camila shakes her head as the two pull away from the embrace, but she has a grin on her face now. “No, it’s okay. I was just playing.”

“You sure you don’t want to push me down though? I’d want to push me down,” Lauren shrugs, linking arms with Camila again and pushing off from the railing.

The younger girl unlinks their arms again. But this time, she does it to move her hand down and intertwine it with Lauren’s.

The sensation of Camila taking her hand fills her with warmth. Literally. Her body felt neutral because of her dysfunctional nerve receptors, but the simple action of the younger girl holding her hand made her feel something she thought she would never feel again.

Warmth.

It’s like the feeling of when you drink hot chocolate or another warm beverage on a cold day and venture outside. The air might be cold, but the hot drink acts like sort of an IV. The warmth pumps through your veins and, for a little while, you’re not so sensitive to the brisk temperatures. You’re actually warm.

However, Camila doesn’t share Lauren’s ability to be impervious to the cold. Lauren can feel the smaller girl’s body shaking, and her teeth visibly clatter.

“Hey, you want to take a break to get some hot cocoa and warm up?” Lauren suggests.

“Y-Yes please,” Camila shivers. They exit the rink, swap their shoes out from their locker, and head into the indoor shack with the coffee kiosk.

It’s relatively small—maybe too small for the bustling population that the city holds in addition to the amount of tourists. But it’s cozy. An electric fireplace is the main source of heat in the room other than the heating unit. A line extends almost to the door of people ordering coffee and hot chocolate.

Camila audibly moans from relief as the warm air soothes her freezing skin. “Oh thank god,” she says as they take their spot in the line.

Turning to Lauren, she asks, “Are you more of a coffee or hot chocolate person?”

“Tea, honestly,” Lauren shrugs. She never really drank much of either hot chocolate or coffee. She never acquired the taste for the bitter drink that so many coffee drinkers did, and even with adding a diabetes-inducing amount of sweetener and other flavors to her coffee drinks, they’d still be barely tolerable. Hot chocolate was a nice treat now and then, but as a Florida native and at school in California, there was never much of a need for it. She drank tea the most.

“Oh, so you’re elitist, huh?” Camila raises an eyebrow. “Hot chocolate not good enough for you?”

“Wow, lots of name calling and accusations tonight,” Lauren laughs. “I just never drank it that much because I’ve always lived in warm climates. I’ll get it tonight. I take it you’re a hot chocolate enthusiast?”

“Yeah. Chocolate milk is my favorite drink and the fact that hot chocolate is just a warm version of it makes it the love of my life,” Camila nods eagerly. “I drink coffee now and then too. I used to hate it but college kind of forced me to love it.”

“No wonder you’re so short,” Lauren jokes.

“Hey, you’re like, an inch taller than me!” Camila argues.

They’re too focused on their own conversation to notice that they’ve made it to the front of the line and people behind them are glaring. The first thing that Lauren sees and is slightly taken aback by is that there are no baristas. Human or AI. It’s just a machine that must brew the drink inside of it and also acts as the cash register.

Noticing Lauren’s shock, Camila comments on it as she punches in her own order of a medium peppermint hot chocolate. “What, never used one of these before?”

“It’s a machine? I…I don’t get it. Why aren’t there actual people making our drinks?” Lauren asks. She decides to test the limits of the machine by selecting extra vanilla and whipped cream to be added to her own drink. “Like, isn’t this essentially just a coffee and hot chocolate dispenser that you’d see in a grocery store?”

“Um…probably because there’s less errors. And no, because every drink made in these is fresh. Like, freshly steamed and everything. I’ve actually never been to a coffee shop without one of these machines,” Camila squints at Lauren. “Is it different out west?”

“Yeah,” Lauren internally beats herself up. She probably shouldn’t have questioned it so heavily—knowing her luck, there isn’t a single coffee shop in the entire world without these machines.

“Interesting. Well, I guess I did hear that the west is a little…different,” Camila shrugs.

“Always has been,” Lauren mutters under her breath, sliding her card into the machine before Camila even has a chance to grab her own.

“Thank you,” Camila smiles gratefully at her as the machine whirrs, brewing their drinks faster than any human or AI could possibly do. When they dispense, they pick them up and head to one of the tables near the fireplace that just opened up.

Taking a sip of her first completely machine-brewed hot chocolate, Lauren’s mouth nearly drops open at how good it tastes. It’s probably better than anything she’s ever ordered, even in the most expensive coffee shops. It doesn’t taste like it came straight out of a machine. “Wow,” she comments. “Okay, I can definitely see why those machines exist.”

“Great, huh?” Camila sips her own beverage. “So, tell me more about the west and their supposedly weird ways. I’ve never been there.”

If Lauren could sweat right now, she would. She’d be drenched in sweat because she isn’t prepared to deal with this question. She wasn’t trained in how to answer this. For whatever reason, Camila believes that the west coast is “different” – to be fair, the culture was always different, even back in Lauren’s day. They were always more progressive, laid-back, and the culture was nearly a complete 180 from the high-strung, type A culture of the east coast.

She decides the best plan of action right now would be to gauge what Camila already perceives and knows about the west coast and then build off of that.

“Well, what makes you think that they’re so weird out there?” Lauren questions innocently.

“I mean… look at you! Sometimes you seem so clueless about the things that seem so simple to me. Like when I synced my contact info to your phone, and the machines. Stuff like that,” Camila shrugs. “Not that it’s bad. But it makes sense, now that I think about it. I’m always reading stuff on the Internet about how people out there are hipster in the sense that they do things the old-fashioned way.”

Lauren almost feels like she could lose her entire drink right now as well as everything else thatis in her stomach. She initially thought she was decent at hiding her ignorance to society today, but apparently not. Apparently Camila has been noticing. She’ll need to work on that harder.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Lauren bluffs, gulping a large mouthful of her drink to hide it cracking from nervousness. “It's extremely hipster out there. Especially at my school… at UCLA, like, so much that I’d even forget about everything else.”

“That’s interesting,” Camila seems to buy it.

“It was! It was really cool. I took a history of California course for one semester and apparently California culture has always been a little strange compared to the rest of the country. Guess that hasn’t changed,” Lauren shrugs.

“I’ll have to visit one day. I love experiencing and learning about different ways of living,” Camila smiles.

Lauren sighs a breath of relief. She has no idea if anything she said was true. For all she knows, Camila is just reading weird articles from the super hipster neighborhoods of LA and everything else is a lie. Hopefully Camila won’t go researching, or hopefully she doesn’t have any friends who are from California that could correct her wildly inaccurate lies.

“You have a…” Lauren changes the subject as soon as she sees that Camila has developed a small hot chocolate mustache on the top of her lips. Handing her a napkin from across the table, the younger girl wipes her lips.

“Thanks,” Camila blushes.

They sit for a few more minutes, finishing up the rest of their drinks and commentating on the other customers in the shack. The two of them take turns creating fake backstories for the people standing in line—Camila’s backstories are so wild that Lauren almost chokes on her drink a couple times.

Finally, they each take their last sip and throw it in the trash. “You down to skate a little more?” Camila asks.

“Of course,” Lauren nods eagerly. They exit the shack, heading toward their lockers and changing back into the skates. “Did the hot cocoa help warm you up?”

“Feels like Miami in July all over inside,” Camila answers. Walking over to the rink, they note that the traffic on it has significantly reduced while they were sitting inside. It is a bit later in the night—about 10:00 PM on a weeknight—so that makes sense. It’s not completely barren but there’s a lot more room now.

“They should play music out here,” Lauren comments. She takes ahold of Camila’s hand once more as they step onto the ice and begin skating around the edges.

“They play Christmas music in December,” Camila informs her.

“Why not play it all the time in the winter?” Lauren asks.

“Christmas music?”

“Why the hell not? I fucking love Christmas music,” Lauren shrugs.

“Yeah? What’s your favorite song?” Camila questions.

“I really like Silent Night.”

“Sing a little bit of it.”

Lauren’s eyebrows raise at Camila’s challenge. Her friends and family have always told her she has a lovely singing voice, but she’s never believed it. She only sings in the shower, in her car, or when she’s wasted in the club.

“You can’t be serious,” Lauren shakes her head. “You really want me to look like a fool in front of you!”

“I mean, it’s about time. I ran into a man and had a hot chocolate mustache. It’s your turn,” Camila smirks. “But I’m sure you have a nice singing voice. You just seem like you would.”

“Hey, both of those were endearing. This is just going to be sad,” Lauren frowns.

“Please?” Camila pouts, pulling off her best puppy-dog-eyes. “Pretty pleeease?”

“Fine,” Lauren groans. She sings the first few lines softly, all while her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

But her singing isn’t embarrassing at all. Camila is almost convinced that an angel has descended from the heavens, and somehow she managed to hit her with her car and also score a date with her. How else could anyone have a voice so silky and soothing?

Lauren stops when she sees Camila staring at her in disbelief. “W-What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Lauren, your voice is beautiful. That was beautiful,” she compliments her. “Wow. I was gonna sing after you to make you feel better if you were really that bad—because, trust me, I’m pretty bad myself—but damn.”

“You’re just being nice,” Lauren brushes her compliments off, though it does feel good to be flattered.

“No, I’m giving praise where it’s due,” Camila says. “I’m being completely serious. You’re amazing. I’m not about to tell you to drop everything and go try to break into the music industry because, let’s be real, the music industry is fucking crazy. But c'mon, at least be a little more confident in your own abilities!”

“I’ll take it into account. Thank you, Camila,” Lauren considers her words and thanks her gratefully. She always figured that her family and friends were lying to her just to not hurt her feelings, but for whatever reason, she trusts this girl’s word without a second question.

Maybe she’s throwing herself into the deep end too presumptuously. Maybe she’s letting herself fall in love with an idea. Who knows? This might not work out. This date is going wonderfully, but maybe it’s a one-time miracle. Lauren has convinced herself that she doesn’t deserve a happy love life, and the universe has shown her this several times.

But on the other hand, Camila is helping her feel things she thought she was unable to feel. She has felt a bursting sense of joy throughout this entire night. Camila literally made her feel warm.

She truly thought she would never feel some of these things again.

What is so special about this girl?

Lauren and Camila had stopped at the railing during the tail end of the conversation because they couldn’t skate and talk at the same time. The two girls face one another, their focus completely on one another. They don’t hear the child crying in the background because she fell and hurt her knee. They don’t hear the police sirens in the distance. All they see—and all they can hear—is each other.

Their faces gradually inching closer together wasn’t intentional. Neither of them even noticed it was happening in the first place until the distance has almost completely closed.

There’s something to be said about kissing. The first kiss you share with someone, in Lauren’s opinion, is always the most magical. Even if they’re just a random hookup you met at a party, it evokes a feeling that can’t be matched. And it’s even better when you actually care for the person.

The kiss itself might be okay. It might be amazing, or it might be disgusting. But Lauren’s favorite part about first kisses isn’t the kiss itself. It’s the moment before the actual kiss.

The moment when your heads tilt slightly to accommodate the other, like two puzzle pieces finding their match. Your eyelids shut as the distance closes ever so slowly—sometimes before they close, you can see the other person smiling. And you can feel yourself grinning too. The anticipation builds up, everything else stops, and in that moment, the kiss is all that you care about. It’s all that you can think about.

And this moment before kissing Camila is even more magical than any that Lauren has ever experienced.

She hears Camila sigh—it’s not a sigh of disappointment, it’s more of a purr—as their lips finally touch.

Before Lauren even gets the chance to taste Camila’s fruity chapstick, and before Camila even gets the chance to feel Lauren’s soft, pillowy lips move against her own, they’re rudely interrupted.

Not by another person, but by physics.

See, when they were gradually inching closer to one another, Lauren’s hands found Camila’s arms and grabbed them gently. This resulted in them moving slowly across the ice. It was slow enough to the point that they didn’t notice (although they were so entranced in the kiss that they probably wouldn’t have noticed if it was a large amount anyway), but they were moving.

Lauren, being so engulfed in the passion of the moment, made a move to pull Camila’s body closer to her own—and that’s where everything went wrong. The two of them ended up slipping as a result of this action, and the next thing they know, they’re on the floor of the rink, Camila on top of Lauren.

“Holy shit!” Camila gasps. “Are you okay?! Fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lauren answers. She didn’t feel anything, but she honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow cut her head open and is bleeding everywhere. That would be her luck. “Are you? Don’t apologize, it’s my fault.”

“Yeah,” Camila nods.

“I’m not bleeding out onto the ice, am I?” Lauren half-jokes, though she is actually serious.

Camila glances at Lauren’s head. “Nope, all good,” she tells her. The two lay in silence for a few seconds, just staring at one another in silence, before they both burst out in laughter.

“Wow. What a date,” Lauren says after they calm down. “A really fucking good one at that.”

She uses the railing to help herself stand up, then extends a hand to pull Camila up. The two of them skate to the exit, remove their skates, and return them to the rental shack after putting on their normal shoes.

“It’s getting late. I’ll drive you home,” Camila yawns, checking her watch.

Lauren kind of wants to invite Camila inside her apartment. She wants her to spend the night—hell, she’d go all the way with her without a second thought. Multiple times. In the same night. For the first time in too long, she feels like herself again. She didn’t even feel like this before starting the experiment.

She’s willing to take it slow, though. And part of her wants to take it slow, too. With all of her other exes and hookups, she felt like she moved too fast with them. She’s willing to savor every single moment with this girl and wait as long as it is necessary.

When Camila’s car pulls up in front of Lauren’s apartment, she resists the urge to ask her to come inside with her. Instead, she just smiles over at the other girl.

“That was amazing, Camila. I loved every part of it. You definitely get the award for best date planner ever,” Lauren tells her. “When can I see you again?”

“Well, I’m pretty busy with class for the rest of the week, but I’m free all weekend,” Camila ponders.

“Perfect. Text me so I know you got home safe, okay? Then we can plan actual details,” Lauren says. She’s eager to see this girl again. She wants to see her tomorrow, but to her dismay, that just isn’t possible. So she’ll bite her tongue and try to be as patient as possible.

“Of course,” Camila nods. As Lauren begins to open the car door, she interrupts her. “Wait!”

“What?” Lauren turns to her, closing the door with a confused look.

This time, Lauren doesn’t get to experience the pre-kiss anticipation, because Camila goes in for it without a warning. The younger girl cups Lauren’s cheek with one hand, pulling her closer as her lips find hers, and rests the other on her neck.

This time, Lauren does get the chance to taste Camila’s chapstick – it tastes like strawberries. And Camila gets to feel Lauren’s soft lips against their own – they truly do feel like she’s kissing a cloud.

Neither of them deepen it or initiate tongue. It lasts for a few seconds, and then right when Lauren is really getting into it, Camila pulls away with a grin. “Had to finish what we started earlier. Goodnight, Lauren.”

“G-Goodnight,” Lauren stutters, hardly able to catch her breath. The next thing she knows, she has exited the car and Camila has driven away.

No one has ever been able to leave her this speechless before. And, for the rest of the night, she feels something that doesn’t fade. Something that doesn’t dull as the minutes pass: happiness.

—–

A/N: I started this chapter on my plane ride at the start of Thanksgiving break and finally finished it on my plane ride back from winter break. Sorry it took so long, I had lost my muse for a bit and it’s back. I hope you find this chapter as unbearably cute as I do.

If you’re wondering about my other fic, Sweetest Downfall, I’ve taken it down from Wattpad because I was getting WAY too much shit about it on Twitter. I might or might not re-publish it–I’m not too keen on being called a psycho and attacked for my FICTION WRITING. We’ll see, I suppose.

Anyway, hopefully the next chapter doesn’t take too long. It’s almost been a year since I wrote and published the first chapter and this is only the fourth wow I suck hahahaha

- Natalie (@laurinah, curiouscat.me/loloregz, laurensjauregui.tumblr.com)

#UPDATE #series #AU #slash #camren #scifi supernatural fantasy #submission #Such Great Heights

7 notes · View notes