Work Text:
1. INT. ELIOTT’S CAR. JEUDI. 16:32.
It is a fine Spring afternoon, the sky of a clear azure with a few clouds of cotton playing hide and seek with the twilight sunrays. It is not cold, with an occasional breeze that shakes the leaves of the large oaks by the berms. It was not yet the abominable rush hours so traffic is fairly smooth and most people are still stuck in their office cubicles. The people that stride along the Parisian pavements are either students, couriers or tourists.
A small car, of dirty silver, is parked by an intersection. There is only one person inside, ELIOTT, and he is staring at Le Gang, the boys half focused on the books in front of them, half arguing friendly with The Girls. BASILE is almost pulling out a lock of his curls as DAPHNÉ put her hands on his shoulders reassuring him of something that eases a little of his frustration. EMMA, ALEXIA and MANON seem to do the opposite, to poke the boy at random body parts and they are soon joined by ARTHUR and YANN, delighting themselves at the comic contorted positions Basile gets in. IMANE taps the rubber of her mechanical pencil on LUCAS’ notebook and Eliott can see his boyfriend take a deep sigh. Studying together for the upcoming baccalauréaut exams was either the best idea of the century or the worst nightmare they had ever faced.
ELIOTT lights a cigarette and he secures the white stick to his lips, taking a deep drag as his eyes are fastened on his and only Lucas. The younger boy could probably see the car but he was so focused on the human anatomy diagrams that he won’t spare a glance for anything else. Eliott has no doubts that he is the most beautiful person in this universe, and in all the other parallel ones, the way his wild almond hair with a tinge of gold refused to obey to the smothering fingers, his petite face that he could hold perfectly in his palms, his blue eyes that had all the oceans etched in them, the North and the South. His frown as he listens to some sort of long and complex explanation and the childlike grin when he finally grasps it.
ELIOTT reaches for the glovebox in the dashboard and pulls out a yellow post-it pad, almost completely used as proved by its thinness, and a fountain pen. It doesn’t take him much time to draw the silhouette of a racoon spying over a cute hedgehog under a pile of books and assignment sheets. It has become a habit, a part of him to draw these two animals, these avatars of all the Eliotts and all the Lucases out there in the infinite. He paints the last indentation on the tail and scribbles a few more spines, inoffensive ones, and he snaps a photo, clicking the send option immediately after.
LUCAS flinches as his phone vibrates in his pocket but his mouth quirks into a warm smile.
[MESSAGE]
Lucas no. 877 is gorgeous when he studies. Eliott no. 965 can’t stop staring at him.
There is another upcoming message and this time Lucas lifts his gaze, searching for his boyfriend.
[MESSAGE 2]
I miss you.
The young boy soon spots the car and the driver, and ELIOTT’s heart skips a beat. They have been together for months already but he still feels that electrical jolt just like the first time he saw him and their shoulders bumped into each other in the hall of the lycée. LUCAS quickly closes his books and gathers his stationery. He tells something to the group before taking a last sip of his coffee and running in direction of the car. BASILLE shouts Eliott’s name as he waves dramatically. The whole gang acknowledges his presence, and Eliott too reciprocates the greeting, but ARTHUR soon taps lightly on Basile’s head, hoping to reduce the collective embarrassment from the inquiring looks of the passersby.
LUCAS
(flinging his bag as he sits and pulls the seatbelt)
How long have you been waiting? You should have–
ELIOTT reaches for the seatbelt as well and helps him buckle it, his right hand resting on LUCAS inner thigh, drawing small concentric circles while his left one trails up the younger man’s neck, his Adam’s apple, his jawline, and he dives for a kiss. It is a chaste brush of lips at first, almost platonic, gentle but also tempting for more. It is Eliott who presses Lucas further into the leather seat, asking for permission with the tip of his tongue and the other boy grants it eagerly. It soon becomes messy, nicotine with the leftover sweetness of milk and sugar, a mutual muffled moan as they lose themselves in the caress. When they part, not because they want but because of the physiological need for oxygen, Lucas’ cheeks are slightly flushed, the same with Eliott, a tint of glistening excitement in both their irises.
LUCAS
How was your day?
ELIOTT
Fine, but college is boring.
LUCAS
Better than mine I suppose. I can’t see adenine bases and mitochondria anymore. And the hex groups with the hydrogen transfers? I should have just done Literature like you.
ELIOTT
I thought you hated all those mademoiselles and their cousins, the princesses too?
LUCAS
You could help me then. Imane is even stricter than professor Rigaux. It was lucky she didn’t have a ruler on our table.
ELIOTT laughs as he leans for another quick kiss. The younger man notices how the smile in his boyfriend’s face subtly fades somewhat as he glances at the digital clock. It is already 16:49.
LUCAS
Eliott? (He tucks a long strand of Eliott’s hair behind his ears) It was good last time, wasn’t it?
ELIOTT
(nodding as he closes his eyes for brief seconds, immersing in the touch)
I’m just... scared, I guess.
LUCAS
Of what?
ELIOTT
I don’t know. (He fidgets with the zipper of his brown jacket) What if I have nothing to say this time? Or too much that she won’t understand me? What if all this is plain nonsense? What if she finds me silly or weird?
LUCAS
Don’t we like weird the best?
ELIOTT lowers his gaze to the gear shift and the parking brake, biting his lower lip as he suppresses a chuckle.
LUCAS (CONT’D)
(lifting Eliott’s face by the chin as he always did when the older boy was weary and insecure, so that their eyes meet)
I will be waiting for you outside. Just like last time. I might disappear for a few seconds to the toilet, I did have a couple of lattes since lunch, but...
ELIOTT interlaces their fingers and places a tender kiss on LUCAS’ knuckles.
LUCAS (CON’D)
... I will be counting the minutes.
ELIOTT
Minute by minute?
LUCAS
(nodding)
Minute par minute.