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Lucas stands at the counter stirring the pasta he’s just poured into the boiling water. They’ve been having pasta a lot recently, something easy to make and to buy on their limited outings to the store. It’s just hard for Lucas to find the motivation these days to make something more involved.
“Lucas!” Eliott calls out as he emerges from their bedroom, clutching his laptop as he looks intently at the screen. He’d been in there for a few hours now, Lucas sitting in the living room instead, trying to catch up on some school work.
“What’s up?” he asks, hoping his voice sounds as steady and even as he intends. He’s just tired and he feels a little bit like he’s been carrying unintended cargo around with him for days. Just a constant buzzing in the back of his mind reminding him this isn’t normal, making it harder to work, harder to focus, just making it all take a little more effort.
Eliott tears his eyes from his screen and looks at Lucas distractedly, like his mind is elsewhere. “Important question,” he says, attention turning back to his laptop. “Now, do you know when you were born?”
Lucas raises an eyebrow as he moves to take out plates for dinner. “You mean, like my birthday?” he asks. “Uh, it’s in July...”
Eliott waves a hand at him, brows furrowed as he reads something on his screen. “No, no, I know that already. I know your birth day,” he says, typing something. “I meant what time you were born.”
It shouldn’t annoy him, an innocent question like that, but he’s been cooking dinner and now that he thinks about it he’s not sure he’s ever asked when, specifically, he was born. He does remember his mom complaining once or twice about how he’d taken all night to appear, so he’d probably guess early morning if he had to. But he doesn’t really want to deal with this right now.
The timer goes off for the pasta and Lucas moves through the motions of bringing the pot to the sink and draining the water. He takes a deep breath.
“I don’t know,” Lucas shrugs, shaking his head and tossing some sauce into the bowl. “Early morning I think.”
Eliott shakes his head. “No I need the exact time you were born,” he says, knitting his eyebrows together as he looks up and watches as Lucas puts their dinner onto plates. “Do you have your birth certificate here?”
“I don’t know,” Lucas says again. His tone is less even this time.
Eliott closes the laptop and puts it down on the couch, making his way into the kitchen to grab cups. “Okay,” he says slowly, “then do you think your mom would know? Could you call her?”
Lucas puts down the pot with a little more force than he was meaning to and stares down at the plates in front of him.
“I don’t know,” he repeats sharply, watching as Eliott fixes his eyes on him. “Can we just eat and talk about this later?”
He moves to turn towards the table when Eliott reaches out and stops him, hand gently grabbing his elbow so he can step in close.
“Hey,” Eliott says softly, his fingers trailing softly down Lucas’ arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Lucas shrugs, but he knows it’s unconvincing.
“Lucas,” Eliott says softly, pulling Lucas towards him, hands coming up to cup his face, thumbs trailing over his cheekbones. “What’s going on?”
The problem is Lucas doesn’t have an answer, not really. It’s just a weird feeling that’s latched onto him today, the kind of film that shades the world and clings there for a while, only to be waited out. But it’s Eliott, and Eliott gets him. So Lucas just shrugs again.
“It’s just one of those days.”
Eliott doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to really, but just reaches out and pulls Lucas to his chest, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and cradling him close. Lucas reaches out to wrap his arms around Eliott’s waist and lets himself lean into it, some of the tension already seeping out of his body.
“Okay,” Eliott says, pressing a kiss to Lucas’ hair. “Okay.”
They stand there for a moment, just holding each other, Lucas finally pulling back just a bit to press a soft kiss to Eliott’s lips.
“Thank you,” he says. Eliott just smiles at him.
And then Lucas watches as something sparks in Eliott’s eyes as they separate, Eliott suddenly clapping his hands together and moving back into the living room where he grabs the soft throw blanket that they keep there since Lucas gets cold on movie nights and takes it over to the window.
“I have an idea,” Eliott announces, walking over and unlatching the window, throwing it open. The gentle sweetness of the spring air floats through the room and Lucas can feel himself breathing a bit more with it, the smells of the world waking up bringing him a little back to life.
Eliott stands in the light as it streams in the window, painting the room in shades of gold and Lucas feels like maybe he’s watching a bit of a transformation, time that seemed frozen softening once again.
Eliott looks back at Lucas and winks, the blanket still caught between his fingers, breaking up the light in waves of blue.
“Let’s have a picnic,” he says.
Lucas can only smile. And breathe.
Eliott throws the blanket out in front of him, cutting the light and sending it scattering around as shadows are made and destroyed again, until finally the fabric settles on the floor. Eliott sits close to the window, long legs folded up in a way that makes him look like mostly knees, and pats the space next to him. An invitation. One Lucas plans on accepting.
“Okay,” Lucas says, a word softly spoken and carried away on the breeze that’s flooded their apartment as Lucas takes in the scene in front of him. It still surprises him sometimes, how Eliott manages to find magic like this, discover it in hidden corners and harness it for his own use. How he always seems to use it to make Lucas smile.
He makes his way over to the blanket and sets the plates down in front of Eliott, following shortly after.
He leans in for a kiss when Eliott suddenly jumps up from the blanket and runs back into the kitchen, digging through one of the cabinets frantically.
“What are you looking for?” Lucas calls out to him, laughing.
Eliott lets out a triumphant yell and pulls out what looks like a bottle of champagne that had been collecting dust behind a collection of mismatched pans.
“My parents gave it to me when we moved in,” Eliott says, clutching the bottle as he makes his way back over to the blanket. “Told me to save it for a special occasion.”
Lucas shakes his head as Eliott moves to remove the cork. “Hold on,” he protests, giggles bubbling up at the sight of Eliott’s determined face. “This isn’t a special occasion. It’s just a random Tuesday night!”
Eliott looks right at him as he twists at the top, the cork coming off with a satisfying pop. “Then we’re celebrating random Tuesday nights,” he replies, and passes the bottle to Lucas.
Lucas pours a little in each of their glasses and raises it in a toast to celebrating today, this hour, this minute, Eliott.
They sit knee to knee and Lucas feels the way his heart kickstarts as Eliott leans in and kisses him, slow and deep. The kind of kiss Eliott knows can get him to melt, let go, forget. So he does.
Eliott pulls back and Lucas tries to follow him for a moment, placated only when Eliott pecks his lips again before resting their foreheads together as he gently strokes Lucas cheek.
“It’s not quite a picnic in the park,” he says finally, his voice soft as it mixes with the spring-warmed air. “But it’s a picnic, and I’ve got you and the sun. So I’d say it’s pretty close.”
Lucas’ eyes are closed as he breathes in, the scent of jasmine from their neighbor’s plants mixing with Eliott in a way that can only be described as intoxicating. He reaches out and squeezes Eliott’s knee. “Thank you,” he whispers against Eliott’s lips, their noses brushing as Eliott breathes in.
“It’ll be okay,” Eliott replies, reaching down and tangling his fingers with Lucas’. “We have each other.”
“I love you,” Lucas says as he pulls back.
“I love you too.”
The street is quiet enough that the song of a distant bird bleeds into their living room as they sit close, knees almost touching as they eat. It’s not exactly what Lucas longs for, but it’s something similar and also something else entirely. A magical moment that won’t be replicated, but instead stored away and remembered. A time Lucas felt so full of love he was almost bursting with it, blocking everything else out.
It’s only later, as they’re stripping off their sweats and climbing into bed that Lucas remembers Eliott’s question.
“Hold on, why did you need to know what time I was born?” he asks as Eliott reaches out and pulls him to his chest.
Eliott huffs out a laugh, his chest rising and falling under Lucas’ cheek.
“It’s not important,” he replies, pressing a soft kiss into Lucas’ hair.
Lucas slaps his chest, lightly and pushes himself up to face Eliott, reaching out to smooth the hair away from his face. “Hey, you said it was. And if it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”
Eliott’s face flushes.
“You’re going to make fun of me.”
“Why would I make fun of you?”
Eliott looks at him for a moment, but shrugs his shoulders letting out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” he says, catching Lucas’ hand and softly kissing his wrist.
“Iwascheckingourastrologicalcompatibility,” he says, pressing the words into Lucas’ palm.
Lucas suppresses a chuckle and shakes his head. “What?”
Eliott groans. “I wanted to know if the stars think we’re compatible and I need the time you were born to get your whole natal chart,” he says blushing.
“My what?” Lucas teases.
“Doesn’t matter,” Eliott groans again.
“Are you getting into astrology Monsieur Demaury?”
“I was bored.”
Lucas nods placatingly, a hint of smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Sure,” he says slowly.
“Besides,” Eliott says, pulling Lucas back down on top of him where he lands with a gentle oof. “We’re both cancers anyway, so really we’re off to a good start.”
“I don’t know what any of that means,” Lucas replies, tracing shapes on Eliott’s bare chest. Eliott just holds him tighter.
“Just means the stars knew what they were doing when they brought you to me,” Eliott says softly.
“Don’t need astrology to tell me that,” Lucas says sleepily, pressing his nose into Eliott’s neck.
“No?”
“No. I already knew that.”
Eliott only holds him tighter at that and Lucas feels sleep begin to wash over him as he sinks into Eliott’s grasp.
“Goodnight, Eliott,” Lucas whispers.
“Goodnight, my love,” Eliott replies.
And the moon, high above this apartment where two boys fall asleep in each other’s arms, dusts everything in a shower of silver light as the night moves on and one day fades into another.