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Chance was a self proclaimed "ladies man". Or, for better words, they were a hopeless romantic. A lover boy. A lover. I could go on. Starry-eyed. A dreamer, even. They did dream a lot, that was for sure. But thats beside the point.
They'd had multiple tries at love. A player back in their golden days. Now they definitely still tried to shoot their shot, still had multiple one night stands... but it just didn't hit the same. He was careful to not confuse it with real love.
Although, his perception of love was extremely messed up after iTrapped, and his parents. Their parents weren't bad, of course! They tried their absolute best during Chances childhood, and his father still tried- but unfortunately they were just as messed up as Chance was. They masked it with new toys, games, trinkets, anything to cover up the fact that they were almost never there, busy with work. Of course they loved Chance and his siblings, but they worked almost 24/7.
Now, Chance? Their way of love was different. They were more careful. Tip toeing.
It was almost alien, the way they acted in relationships. Never demanding, never expecting, never asking. Really, it seemed like they weren't even in a relationship most of the time- mostly because iTrapped was their most long term relationship; and that really messed with their brain chemistry. They were independent. At least, they tried to be. Especially when a partner was upset at them, they distanced themselves. Not out of malice, not out of spite, out of guilt. Most of that time, he was at the casino. Gambling. It rid of the pain, got his mind off of things, let them relax for a bit. Their mind was quiet for a rare moment. A second of peace. It was healthier than other coping mechanisms they'd tried... thats for sure. And they had plenty of money to spend, after all! It's not like it was hurting anything big (aside from his ego whenever he lost).
But after getting into, like, major debt, they did slow down quite a bit on the gambling unless they got that itch again. That itch that was undeniable, you just couldn't ignore it no matter how hard you try.
They needed the distraction.
Every mistake, every slip up, every crack in his facade, and he always ended up back in the casino. It was unhealthy, he knew. Of course they knew that. Everyone in their life said that. But they didn't have anyone to vent to, anyone they could really trust, nobody who loved.
Who loved.
Not who loved him. Who loved. Who held love in their heart, genuine care, a spark. Something that Chance could sense like a dog that sensed sickness- tenderness. A feeling that enveloped them in soft, velvety red blankets, light and fluffy, but enough to keep them warm. Affection. Affection was such a rare thing that Chance felt, not towards people, but towards them.
Although... there was one person who they always thought of when these words came up.
None other than Elliot Builder, of course. How predictable of them.
But truly, who wouldn't be enamored with him?
He had these eyes, brown like pools of honey reflecting in the summer sun; paired with long, curling eyelashes. They were so expressive. That was Chances favorite part of him- aside from his personality.. and how warm he was.
Chance really didn't like being too cold, or touching cold skin. It brought back rotten memories for them. So they grazed Elliot a lot, who almost always seemed to be warm. Maybe it was from the pizzerias heat, maybe he had a normal body temperature- maybe it was just Chance imagining things again. Well, the smell of fresh dough did always emanate this sense of warmth- at least for Chance. Something about the savory, slightly sweet smell of pizza clinging to clothing was just so simply comforting to them.
Ah, speaking of Elliot.. they did have a "date" planned later. Soon, actually. Chance just had bad perception of time, but then again, don't we all?
It wasn't necessarily a, quote unquote, date, just a.. get together.
Just to hang out.
Theres no need to overthink it, Chance.
Don't overthink it, Chance!
Too late. Even a small interaction had Chances mind absolutely whirling like they'd just had a dozen beers.
It was reasonable! At least thats what they told themselves so they weren't as embarrassed by their positively childish behavior.
They shifted around in their clothing, checking their mirror for what seemed like the millionth time in the past minute. It was pretty average, long black pants, a red long sleeve button up, and a white vest. And of course their lucky red fedora.
What if they were overdressed?
What if they were underdressed?
What if Elliot didn't even show?
Ugh, too many 'what ifs'. It was making his head hurt. Too early to take another pain medicine, they'd taken one like five minutes ago. He wished it would hurry up and kick in. Are there pills to stop overthinking? Can he have a full bottle, asap?
Another loud, long groan of annoyance and exasperation. How lame was this? They weren't official, they didn't have any labels, they never officiated anything at all. There was no need to be so weird about it.
Chance stared themselves in the mirror, fixing their shades again, flipping their collar over, and smoothing out their shirt that they'd already ironed and steamed. This was so dumb.
Maybe they just shouldn't go.
They glanced over at their phone, sitting ever so seductively on the table, turning on as if on cue with his thoughts. Just a few swipes and they could break the horrible news to Elliot that they'd just spontaneously come down with a cold, and they couldn't dream of getting him sick too.
No. Knowing Elliot, he'd come over without warning and tend to Chance like they were on life support. Stupid. So stupid. Elliot was so stupid. Always so nice, and sweet, and caring, and pretty- okay. Chance really needed to stop spiraling and just leave.
With a deep sigh, they pulled their belt one loop tighter just in case, and headed toward the front door. They threw Spade, who was already in his cage, a longing glance that looked like 'please help me' in some type of hidden language only they and the colossal bunny knew.
-
His shoes tapped against the floor of the building.
God, he was already regretting this.
Was it too late to turn around? Elliot wasn't even anywhere to be seen, maybe he'd forgotten and Chance could just go home and- oh.
And there he was. As breathtaking as ever, standing simply by a booth table, with that sweet, sheepish smile that would make even the coldest mans heart flutter. And those eyes. God, those eyes. So soft, and warm, and simple yet complex, it made them want to melt away into the void. Or maybe into his arms. They haven't picked yet.
Finally, they felt their feet moving- slightly against their will- towards the pizza boy.
"Ellie," They greeted, gulping nervously.
"Chance." Elliot replied, smile growing just a bit- just enough to see his teeth. Not perfectly white, but close to it. Much different from Chances yellowed teeth, stained from years of smoking.
He shifted from foot to foot, gaze burning into the ceramic tile beneath their feet.
Elliot only had a soft, innocent laugh to react. So vastly different from what Chance knew. Usually the nervousness would be a sign of weakness, or lack of masculinity, drawing rude comments and unwanted attention. It almost made their head hurt, if it weren't for the pain medicine finally working. Which he was immensely grateful for: he'd been about three seconds away from kneeling and praying to whatever gods were out there.
"Do you want to sit down?" Elliot spoke, and, as always, it hypnotized Chance, hanging onto each word and overanalyzing each syllable.
Swallowing hard, they found it somewhere in their guts to reply.
"Okay."
Simple. One word. Easy. No fumbling, no misunderstandings, just... okay.
Elliot nodded, drawing Chances attention to his bouncing curls, the ones that framed his face perfectly.
Chance realized he should probably sit down, seeing Elliot scooting into the booth.
He quickly took his place on the other side, resting his chin in his hand and flashing Elliot a perfunctory smile. The receiver simply smiled back, so perfect and amazing and addicting in its simplicity that it had Chance on the edge of their seat like they were finding out about a plot twist from their favorite show.
"So, um... what do you think you'll get?" Elliot asked casually, looking at the menu.
Chance was at a loss for such a simple answer. Scattering, they picked something random.
"Probably just a soda and nacho fries.. im not very hungry." They paused, thinking, "And you? What are you getting?" He added on, mostly out of courtesy and desperation to continue the conversation.
"Maybe a milkshake. I'm not hungry either," He said the last part with this nervous laugh, smooth like honey, filling the silence perfectly.
Chance could listen to it forever on repeat, and wouldn't even begin to get tired of it.
They nodded rapidly. Too rapidly. Too slow? Too many nods?
He had to physically restrain letting out a groan and banging his head on the table.
"Chance."
And their attention snapped right back to him like a drill sergeant.
"Are you okay? Your cheeks are awful pink."
Oh, come on! Could they please catch a break? Elliot was too observant. Read him like they were an info panel at the museum. Like it was a story for the public.
Of course Elliot wasn't going to assume anything, right?
Hopefully that was true. But probably not, considering Chance was always complaining about how cold it was, even in heat waves- so it was basically impossible for them to be hot. Probably.
They weren't like that a few years ago, before iTrapped- Elliot wondered if, maybe, iTrapped had done something to their body temperature.
Chance shook themself, looking back up at him.
"I'm alright. It is a bit warm in here."
And there it was.
Elliot almost immediately knew they were lying.
"Oh? Do you want to step outside?" Of course, even if they were lying, Elliot was still going to care. Idiot. Chance hated him. Maybe.
Chance was really freezing, aside from their burning cheeks. Going outside in almost freezing weather was like a death wish. They puffed out their cheeks and mumbled a "No, thanks," while looking away like a child.
They didn't like that Elliot smiled so endearingly at that. It always gave him these tingles that he just couldn't get rid of.
God they wanted to wipe the smile off of that adorable face. Not in a bad way. He didn't want to hurt Elliot at all, not in any way. Not in his worst nightmares would they even try hurting him.
The pair sat in relative silence until the waiter came and took their orders. After they got their drinks, Chance was feeling more confident. Still absolutely whipped, but they could get over it. Maybe. Probably.
Hopefully.
Hoping was really all they could do now. Sitting in front of this really, embarrassingly, unnaturally beautiful man who they totally saw themselves waking up to every morning for the rest of their life. All they could do was hope with every atom of their being. For what? They weren't sure. To marry him, right here and right now? To be able to get out of this "get together" with an ego still partially intact? To kiss him??
While their mind was running wild, Elliot was drinking a milkshake. A strawberry milkshake. Specifically ordered with no whipped cream and extra strawberry. It had a pink straw, the same color of a cartoony strawberry you'd see on a kids show. Completely unaffected, blissfully unaware that poor Chance was having a whole gay panic attack over him.
They swore he was swinging his feet beneath the table. Stupid. Idiot. Not endearing. Childish. Not endearing.
Lies. It made them melt into a puddle with a fedora on top. It made them want to just.. exist with him. Wake up next to him, hold him while they were cold, surprise hug him at random..
They let out a wavering sigh, shoulders heaving, digging the heels of their palms into their eyes before slumping back into the booth like he could disappear if he went far enough.
Elliot paused in his sipping, looking up at the gambler. "Chance? You okay?"
"No! You're sitting there lookin' all pretty, and I- and you're just so- ugh. It's so effortless! Are you trying to kill me? Be honest, Ellie. Because if you are, it's working pretty darn good. I swear to whatever god is out there I'm gonna get a heart attack one of these days just from looking at you."
Silence. Then a soft snicker from the pizza boy, and the shiest smile he'd ever worn creeping onto his face. "You really think that?" He giggled out.
"Oh, shut up! Don't laugh..!" They exclaimed, burying their face in their hands.
"I'm not trying to, I swear! I'm just nervous.." He hurriedly said, waving his hands.
Chance was slightly taken aback. Elliot could feel nervous?! They always saw him as the bravest guy in the world.
But their eyes were drawn to the way his painted nails fiddled with the collar of his shirt, the way he'd occasionally twirl his hair.
"You want to melt me, don't you?" They mumbled, arms crossing.
Elliot let out another nervous giggle, covering his mouth with a hand. Without a word, he came to sit next to them, leaving room between them purposefully.
That really got them.
Elliot knew physical touch wasn't something they easily brushed off. He was always so considerate about it. The lightest brush of hands made them jump, but quickly they grabbed Elliots again.
Elliot was their safe person, the one they could always trust to touch them and care for them without explicit permission. But Elliot still asked. Hesitantly, they brought up their arms to hug him.
Which they were greeted with one of the warmest hugs ever- all the others on the list being delivered by him as well. Chance couldn't help but let out a pleased hum, before Elliot pushed him back slightly, holding their shoulders lightly.
"So, uhm, does this mean we're official..? Or at least exclusive?"
Chance felt their soul leave their body for a second.
"Yes." Was all they mustered.
Elliots shoulders loosened, and his smile relaxed, before pulling him back into a soft hug.