Objectively Pretty

by YukiGasly (XiaZia)

Summary:

Yuki sends Pierre a dick pic by accident. Pierre's first thought is that it's pretty.

Chapter 1: The Incident

Pierre is lying on his bed, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, when he remembers that he has yet to ask Yuki for the photos they took during their hangout. His social media team will be hounding him for those later, so he opens his messenger app and sends Yuki a text.

Pierre: Can you send me the photos from today?

Pierre: My social media team will want them

Yuki: Okay

Yuki: Sent 9 attachments

Pierre: Thanks

He clicks the message thumbnail and downloads the first photo; one of them sitting across from each other at brunch. He swipes and downloads the next; one where Yuki is barely out of frame, pointing at the menu. He swipes and downloads the next; a picture of a dick in black panties. He swipes and—

Pierre swipes back to the previous photo, and blinks.

Woah.

He stares for a long time—too long—at a photo of what is likely Yuki’s dick. The frame of the photo starts at the bottom half of Yuki’s stomach, trailing down his abs until it reaches the black of the panties, and then the upper half of Yuki’s muscular thighs, showing off a stark contrast of pale skin and black cotton that leaves Pierre’s mouth dry. The photo was clearly taken in the dark, as all the colours are dimmed and the edges blurred with the camera’s attempt to make out detail, but even so Pierre can see the slight sheen of precum coating his skin, making it shiny. The panties are adorned with a small black ribbon bow, right at the middle of the waistband, just under the head of Yuki’s dick. He can still make out the pink flush of it, and by looking at the shape of what’s hidden from view by the rest of the fabric, he can’t help but think to himself that it’s probably small enough to fit entirely within his hand.

Pretty, Pierre thinks, and then, wait, what?

Snapping himself out of it, he closes out of the photo and sends Yuki another text.

Pierre: I didn’t realize you had the time to take a dick pic while we were hanging out

Yuki: What

A few long seconds pass, and then the message is deleted.

Yuki: Fuck

Yuki: You weren't supposed to see that

Pierre: See what?

Pierre: The lovely photos of us hanging out, or the dick?

Yuki: What do you think idiot

Yuki: Can we pretend that didn’t happen

And then, as if Yuki was debating if it was worth his pride:

Yuki: Please

Pierre gives a quiet chuckle.

Pierre: No amount of therapy will un-scar my mind, Yuki

Pierre: I demand compensation

Yuki: …

Yuki: Fine

Pierre: Nice

Pierre: I want to see my favorite snacks at my door today

Pierre: And a coffee

Yuki: What am I uber eats

Yuki: Fine

Yuki: Greedy bastard

Yuki: Now we pretend that didn't happen

Pierre: Deal

Pierre: Can you resend the photos though? I still need them

Pierre hesitates, and then sends another message.

Pierre: Preferably without the dick this time

Yuki: F u

Yuki: Sent 8 attachments

Pierre laughs a little louder, and finally downloads the rest of the photos. He opens his gallery app and selects them to send to his social media team, carefully avoiding the picture of Yuki’s dick that he had accidentally saved. Once the photos are sent, he finds himself staring at the minimized thumbnail of Yuki’s dick pic, nestled innocuously within the other photos of their hangout. He long presses it to delete, and then hesitates. He knows he should get rid of it, but the longer his thumb hovers over the delete icon, the more he comes to terms with the fact that he doesn’t really want to. With a sigh, he closes out of his gallery and leaves it be. It’s not like he was keeping it for any reason, he just didn’t feel like deleting it yet. It had nothing to do with the fact that he thought Yuki’s dick was pretty— objectively pretty —or the fact that his judgment may be clouded by his blood choosing to rush in the opposite direction of his brain.

That night, after a long day of being in proximity of Yuki, Pierre realizes he's fighting losing battles.

He's not gay. He's been telling himself as much since he saw Yuki’s dick at noon, and if he repeats it to himself enough times, eventually it'll become reality. Yuki's dick is objectively pretty, which objectively makes him not gay, because if Yuki’s dick wasn't objectively pretty and Pierre still found it pretty, then he would be gay. As of right now though, he isn't. He might be if he thinks about it a little harder, but he hasn't, so he's not gay. Yet.

The other battle he's losing is the one of acting normal, because he honestly doesn't think he can spend another day pretending nothing happened. On the surface, that might look true. They still joke the same; fight the same; talk the same; act the same, but dig a little deeper and it's all different. If anything has changed on Yuki’s end, he sure isn't acting like it though. Pierre is starting to think it might only be him.

It's different because he thinks of the size of Yuki’s dick, how it would fit in his hand perfectly, and what the weight of it would be in his fist.

It's different because he wonders what sounds Yuki would make, what expressions he would make, what he would look like in the throes of pleasure.

It’s different because he catches himself daydreaming of a suspiciously Yuki shaped figure lying on his bed, wearing black panties that are definitely nothing like the ones in the photo.

It's different because now, a part of him wants, and he feels like it might have always wanted. He wants to come home to Yuki on his couch, yelling expletives as he plays video games on the PS5. He wants his kitchen to be stocked with spices he didn't know existed, his fridge filled with foods he would never make himself. He wants to wake up to Yuki in his arms, in his bed, in his home.

Now is the point where he should think a little harder on the ‘not gay’ thing, but it's late and he's tired, so instead he goes to sleep.

Notes:

RAGHHH first chapter, hope you enjoy >:)

Chapter 2: Stupid In Love

Summary:

Pierre continues to be stupid

The next morning, Pierre decides he would rather have someone else do the hard thinking for him, so he texts Charles a totally hypothetical, definitely not applicable to me, question.

Pierre: Charles

Pierre: T'as une minute?

Do you have a minute?

Charles: Ouais

Yeah

Charles: Quoi de neuf?

What’s up/What’s new?

Pierre: T'as jamais uh

Have you ever uh

Pierre: Well

Pierre: T'as jamais pensé que la bitte de ton ami est jolie?

Have you ever thought that your friend’s dick is pretty?

He gets an answer in the form of a call. It's so fast that he almost presses decline while trying to type something else. Charles’ voice filters through before Pierre can open his mouth to speak.

“Pierre, I'm going to be in your hotel room.”

And before Pierre can even mention that Charles doesn't have a room card, the line goes flat.

About an hour later, after Pierre has hit the gym, he stands in front of his hotel room door, hesitating to open it. He isn't sure what for, since he was the one to bring the topic up in the first place, but somehow this feels like a confrontation.

Eventually, he resigns himself to the fact that he's delaying the inevitable, and presses his room card to the reader. The door unlocks itself with a buzz, and he pushes it open to see that, unsurprisingly, Charles is sitting on his bed. He doesn't even bother asking Charles how he got in.

“Pierre,” Charles says, setting his phone to the side. “Who is it?”

“What happened to hello? How's your day?” Pierre retorts as he slips his shoes off his feet. “And what do you mean, who is it?”

“Who is the friend?”

Pierre’s face heats up so fast he feels like a soft tyre in thirty degree weather. “What friend?” he says as he sidesteps Charles’ pressing gaze by heading for his room’s minifridge, and grabbing a bottle of water. “There is no friend!”

“Pierre,” Charles says when Pierre starts back towards his bed. “You ask me out of the blue if I've ever found a friend’s dick pretty. I've known you for longer than I haven’t. Who is the friend?”

Pierre sits down on the bed feeling like he’s in an interrogation room. Charles’ eyes could substitute for the blinding lights. In another attempt to sidestep Charles’ line of questioning, he tries: “Well, have you ever found a friend’s dick pretty?”

He starts to take a sip of water, and then Charles charges straight through his attempted misdirection, causing him to choke immediately. “Is it Yuki?”

Water splatters everywhere. “How the fuck did you know?” he says, strained, awkwardly coughing into his elbow while trying to wipe his other hand on the bedsheet.

“It was a guess,” Charles replies, completely unconcerned that he almost killed Pierre. He leans in conspiratorially, a look of mischief on his face. “You think Yuki’s dick is pretty? When did you see it?”

“You… You’re a conniving bastard, you know?” Pierre says, glaring. Charles gives Pierre a smile, and bats his eyelashes innocently. Pierre groans.

“Fine. You know my most recent instagram post?”

“Non!” Charles gasps, scandalized. “You didn't do anything, did you?”

“What do you mean, do—No! No we—after hanging out, I texted him for the photos so my social media team could use them, and he accidentally attached a dick pic with them, so I saw it while I was downloading the photos.”

“Okay, and what do you think about it?”

“About his dick?”

“No, about your reaction to his dick!” Charles says, making a motion like it should have been obvious. “You said you find it pretty!”

“I don't know? It's an objectively pretty dick?”

Pierre doesn't think he's ever seen Charles give him a more unimpressed look than he is right now.

“Calamar, I know you’re stupid, but I expected a little more than that! You find his dick pretty! At the very least, this means you're definitely into his dick.”

“Well, I mean—” Pierre starts, and Charles gives him a look that says ‘I dare you to continue’, so instead he backs down with a sigh. “Yeah, okay fine. Maybe a little.”

Charles claps joyfully. “Congrats on the gay awakening!” he says. “So what do you plan on doing about it?”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing?” Charles says indignantly, like Pierre’s chosen inaction is an affront on his own bloodline. “You plan on doing nothing?”

“Why did you say it like that?” Pierre retorts, equally as indignant.

“What do you mean, why did I say it like that?” he continues, flapping his hand open and shut as if operating a sock puppet. “It’s you! Monsieur ‘I once spent the night out at a different lady’s house every day for a week’. Aren’t you going to try and fuck him?”

“I thought I told you to stop bringing that up! And no! That’s— I can’t do that!”

At this, Charles looks genuinely confused. “Why not though? It happens all the time around the paddock.”

“I don’t know!” Pierre groans, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He’s telling the truth too, because he isn’t sure either. “I just—” he leans back and collapses into the bed with a sigh. “That feels mean. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Charles leans over Pierre with a growing smile, looking a little unhinged. Frankly, Pierre is scared. “What do you think he deserves, then?”

“Better than that?” Pierre says. “Like, more?”

The smile grows wider. “What do you mean by more?”

“I don’t fucking know!” Pierre groans. “More? More than a one night stand, I guess.”

Charles’ smile is way too large. “Oh mon dieu,” he says, with all the jubilation of a man who is processing that he won the lottery. “You’re so fucked.”

“What?” Pierre sits up, incredibly confused, and mildly concerned. “Why?”

“Oh, you don’t even know!” Charles continues, way too happy for a man who is announcing his best friend’s doom.

“Know what?” Pierre says, confusion and concern only mounting. “Why am I fucked?”

“You’re in love!” Charles announces.

Pierre doesn't think he's ever been so confused in his life. "I am?"

Notes:

Second chapter! lmk ur thoughts on them :)))

Chapter 3: In Love, Still Stupid

It takes four whole minutes for Charles to stop laughing at the sheer confusion on Pierre’s face. Pierre continues to be confused. Charles is not helping.

“Calamar—” Charles manages, clutching his stomach and wiping tears from his eyes. “T’es stupide!”

“I don’t get it,” Pierre says. “How am I in love?”

“You think he deserves better,” Charles says. “Why do you think he deserves better?”

Pierre blanches. Does Charles think Yuki doesn’t deserve better? “Why wouldn’t he deserve better?”

“No, no. You’re not understanding, Pierre. Why do you think he deserves better?”

Pierre gets the feeling he’s still not understanding. “Why wouldn’t I think he deserves better?”

“You're not understanding, Pierre!” Charles says exasperatedly, as if repeating the statement would get Pierre to understand any faster. “Give me the reason. I want to know the reason you think he deserves better.”

Pierre opens his mouth to answer, and then stops. The first thing his brain conjures is, ‘because it's Yuki?’, and he doesn't think that'll cut it. “I don't know,” he says instead, and then defaults back to his first answer because he can't for the life of him think of another. “Because it's Yuki?”

Charles’ unhinged smile is making a return. “And what do you mean by, ‘because it's Yuki?’”

“I don't know!” Pierre says again, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation. “Because it's Yuki! He's just— he—” He cuts himself off before he continues to fumble with his words like a drunk clown attempting to juggle. For someone who's usually well spoken, Pierre feels unusually inadequate at expressing himself right now. “I just think he deserves better. He deserves for someone to treat him properly. He's too— he's just— he's Yuki. He deserves that.”

In a complete turnaround from the unhinged smile, Charles now looks like he's about to have an aneurysm. If Pierre wasn't so confused, he might have taken a photo for safekeeping. “Pierre, you idiot, you cannot be this dense,” he mutters, massaging his temples. “What about this,” he says, looking at Pierre with renewed determination. “If you were to be the one to treat him like he deserves, what would you do?”

“Probably… a restaurant date? Somewhere with high quality meat, and if it's a proper Japanese place then that's better,” he says, taking the time to scour his mind for what he knows about Yuki. “I think it's easier to find a place with good meat, though,” he adds after a second of consideration. “It's hard to find a Japanese place that is up to Yuki’s standards, you know?”

He looks at Charles to see if his explanation makes sense. Charles is giving him a look that says he doesn't know, so Pierre continues to elaborate.

“I went with him once to some place we found on google maps that seemed decent. I thought it was pretty good, but Yuki is picky—he thought it was okay—so if you're going to go for Japanese you better make sure it's good. Otherwise some place with good meat will do.”

Charles’ expression hasn't changed.

“I think it was because it was in Italy,” Pierre continues. “They’re not exactly known for—”

“Pierre,” Charles says, interrupting what seemed to be an endless explanation. “Pierre, you are stupid.”

“What? I’m answering your question, non?”

“You took him out on a date, espèce de—” He mutters something Pierre doesn't hear, but assumes is a strongly worded insult. “That was a date!” Charles yells, punctuating his words with sharp motions. “You took him out on a date!”

“I think I would know if it was a date,” Pierre says, frowning. Charles groans frustratedly.

“You just said that if you were to be the one who treated Yuki the way he deserved, you would take him out to a nice restaurant with high quality meat, or proper Japanese, right?”

“Right…?”

“And then you said you went to eat at a place that you thought was proper Japanese! Is that not exactly what you just described?”

“Well, if you say it like that,” Pierre starts, trying to find an explanation for how it wouldn't be a date. “I mean, it wasn't a date though,” he says when he realizes there isn't one. “We were just trying out a restaurant for fun.”

“Would you have minded if it was a date though?”

“I wouldn't mind doing a lot of things with Yuki,” Pierre says, and then he and Charles both freeze. Pierre was not expecting that from himself, and judging by Charles’ expression, neither was he. He takes the time when they're both stunned to unpack his statement. Unbidden, his mind wanders back to the thoughts he had the night before he texted Charles, the ones that left the oddly familiar ache of yearning in his chest.

Apparently, he wouldn't mind doing a lot of things with Yuki, including going on a date, if his own words are to be trusted. He wouldn't mind sharing a house, or a kitchen, or a bed either, according to his repressed fantasies. He clearly wouldn't mind sleeping with Yuki—in both senses of the word—or he would never have had to text Charles in the first place. Eventually, his mind ends up with; I wouldn't mind sharing a life with Yuki ; and the sheer truth of the statement has him reeling. 

“I am stupid,” Pierre says after a long while. “Holy fuck, Charles, I am in love.”

“Finally!” Charles yells. “I am making you buy my next meal, Calamar.” He leans in again, putting his hands together like a greedy businessman. “Now tell me, what do you plan on doing?”

“I’m not sure,” Pierre says. “I’m not even sure he’s into men.”

“Well he sent you a dick pic, non?”

“It was by accident, but I guess he was, uh—” Pierre stops himself just before he spills the contents of the actual photo, a red flush taking over his face as he remembers the dizzying look of pale skin and black cotton. “He probably is into men, actually,” he finishes lamely, avoiding eye contact with Charles.

Charles gives him a curious look, but doesn't push further. “Bon alors, what do you plan on doing?”

“I guess I'll try to take him out on a date,” Pierre says. “To a proper Japanese restaurant this time.”

“Nice. Bonne chance, Pierre,” Charles says, slapping his hand down firmly onto Pierre’s back. “I'm sure everything will turn out fine.”

Pierre hums absentmindedly, fidgeting with the bracelets on his wrist. It's a lot to process, but it doesn't feel like a lot. Somehow, there's an odd lack of groundbreaking emotion to the things he's learned about himself today—like these things have always been with him, but he's just never bothered giving them names.

With a sigh, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens google. He can feel Charles’ curious gaze over his shoulder. He types, ‘Best Japanese restaurants in Canada,” and hits enter. No matter how hard it was to come to a solid conclusion about his issues today, nothing will be harder than finding a restaurant that is up to Yuki’s standards.

Notes:

Grahhh third chapter out >:)

Chapter 4: A Date Between Friends

As Pierre opens his messenger app to text Yuki, his heart decides that it wants to do its best approximation of a cat in a cage at the veterinarians—loud, and trying to escape his chest.

It’s annoying, frankly. He’s asked Yuki to get dinner with him many times, but suddenly his nervous system is acting like he's still a schoolboy asking his crush if they can have a play date at his house. He’s not even asking Yuki in person, which makes it all the more ridiculous. He’s sending Yuki a text for god's sake. Their schedules didn’t align well enough to make time for him to ask in person, but he supposes that’s a good thing, or else he might have exploded from sheer nerves.

He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that he is a twenty nine-year-old man who has had years of dating experience—conveniently ignores that none of that has been with men—and starts to compose a text.

Pierre: Hey Yuki, I was wondering if maybe you would like to|

And then he deletes it, because what the fuck is he being so unconfident for?

Pierre: You. Me. Restaura|

No.

Pierre: Wanna try a Japanese restaurant in Canada?|

Yeah, that seems appropriate. He hits send, and gets a response only a minute later.

Yuki: Yes pls

Yuki: You pay?

Pierre snorts a laugh.

Pierre: Yes Yuki

Pierre: I’ll pay

Yuki: Yesss

Pierre: What days are you free?

Yuki: Few days before FP

Pierre: Okay, how about Wednesday?

Pierre: I’ll pick you up at your hotel? 6 PM?

Yuki: 👍

He breathes a sigh of relief, and almost laughs at his own ridiculousness. There was no doubt in his mind that Yuki was going to jump on the opportunity to get free food, so he's unsure what he was so nervous about in the first place. With a giddy smile, he opens his phone app to call the restaurant and make a reservation.

---

On Wednesday at six in the afternoon, Pierre pulls up to the entrance of Yuki’s hotel. He's drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel to the beat of whatever song is playing on the radio. The engine of the car purrs idly, providing a comforting distraction to his own anxiety when he pulls his phone out of his pocket to let Yuki know he is here. He gets a response almost instantly—Yuki is in the elevator, heading down. Pierre responds with a keyboard smiley face.

He takes a deep breath and assesses himself. The car is rented—a nice sports car—sleek and black, the kind he knows Yuki is into. He's wearing a simple white blouse, dark brown pants, and black dress shoes. There's a nice watch on his wrist, two bracelets on the other, and a simple necklace around his neck. Not too fancy, not too casual. He smooths the wrinkles in his shirt out with his hands nervously—he spent too much time figuring out his outfit today.

Abruptly, he's pulled from his thoughts when three loud taps sound through the car. Pierre jumps with a swear, jerking his head to the passenger side window to see Yuki wave and give him a cheeky smile. He can't help but smile back.

He unlocks the car door with a click, and Yuki opens it with a whoosh. He ducks into the passenger seat and pulls the door shut.

“Yuki!” Pierre says joyfully, already giddy from the amount of endorphins he gets simply by being around Yuki. “Glad to see that you managed to get ready on time for once!”

Yuki responds by punching him on the shoulder lightly, but smiling wider. “Shut up,” he says with no bite in his tone. “I’m surprised you’re not late.”

Yuki is wearing white pants and a black sweater vest that shows off his arms beautifully. Pierre swallows dryly watching Yuki’s arms bulge when he clicks the seatbelt into place. His shoes are doc-martens, and he has his usual sets of rings, bracelets, and necklaces on. He looks breathtaking. Suddenly, it feels ridiculous that Pierre never realized he was into men until Charles told him so. He spends just a beat too long staring before he remembers that he’s in the driver’s seat and supposed to be driving. When he snaps back to the present, Yuki is staring at him curiously, an amused expression playing on his face.

Pierre clears his throat as he forcefully peels his eyes from Yuki’s arms and puts his hands on the steering wheel. “So uh,” he starts, suddenly losing all his ability to socialize like a functional human. “How was your week?”

“Ass,” Yuki responds bluntly. He slumps down in his seat with a little pout. “This week was ass.”

Pierre snorts a laugh at the bluntness. “You have such a way with words, Yuki.”

“This week I was at the Red Bull factory too much,” he whines, ignoring Pierre’s teasing. “I didn’t get time to rest.”

“Well, good thing dinner is on me today then,” Pierre says. “A reward for being so good.”

“A reward for being good? Am I a dog?” Yuki says incredulously. “Wang, wang!”

“Stop it with your stupid dog noise!” Pierre says, the beginnings of laughter already shaking his body. “I’m driving!”

Yuki doesn’t stop—in fact, he doubles down. “Wang! Wang! Wang!” he barks, causing Pierre to laugh harder, and then, “Pierre! Yellow light!”

Pierre snaps to attention and slams on the brakes, jerking them both forward. The car stops right before the light turns red. Beside him, Yuki dissolves into giggles. Pierre’s face goes up in flames.

“Shut up,” he mutters, wiping his now sweaty hands off on his pants. “Thank god there was nobody behind us.”

Yuki still has that stupid smile on his face. “Eventful dinner,” he says, waggling his eyebrows teasingly. Pierre responds by flipping him the bird.

---

Some more stupid jokes and disruptive laughter later, Pierre pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant. It's surprisingly busy for a Wednesday—but he supposes that's what he signed up for when he reserved seats at the nearest high quality Japanese restaurant. Yuki looks excited though, peering through the window at the restaurant with lights in his eyes, so Pierre supposes that it's worth it.

When he finally finds a spot to park, Yuki starts tapping his feet impatiently as the car backs into the spot. “Excited?” Pierre asks, even if it is obvious that Yuki is excited.

“Of course,” Yuki says, looking out the window once the car is done parking. “It’s free food.”

“I feel like I lose money every time we go out to eat,” Pierre says once they’re both out of the car, walking to the door of the restaurant. “When's the last time you paid for us?”

“Well, I asked if you were gonna pay, and you said yes,” Yuki says matter-of-factly. “And every time I try to pay, you don’t let me anyway! You tell me not to, and then I try to do it anyway, and you don't let me. There’s no point in trying anymore. You always lose money.”

“Well—” Pierre says, pausing to pull the door open for Yuki, and also to scramble for a suitable excuse because saying he believes Yuki deserves better will probably only arouse suspicion. “Uh—”

Thankfully, the receptionist saves him. “Welcome!” she says as they approach. “Do you have a reservation for today?”

“Yes.” Pierre nods towards the receptionist politely. “Under Pierre Gasly.”

“Pierre… Pierre,” she repeats, scanning down a list of names at the reception desk. “Ah, Pierre Gasly. Right this way, sir,” she says eventually, leading them into the restaurant. “You reserved a private booth for two, correct?”

“Ah, yes, thank you.”

They are led further down the restaurant to a fancier, more picturesque area with separate booths, made even more private by a beautiful screen divider that acts as a door to the booth. Overhead lighting built into the top ensures that it isn't dark, but the light is just dim enough that it provides a romantic atmosphere. It's only once they get to the booths that Pierre realizes almost everybody else who is sitting in one seems to be a couple.

The receptionist folds the screen together and motions them into the booth. “Here are your menus,” she says as they take their seats. “I hope you enjoy your meals.” They both thank the receptionist, and after she leaves, Yuki turns to give him a mischievous grin.

“Very fancy restaurant,” he says, looking around the area to punctuate his point, and then looking back at Pierre. “Very romantic. ”

Pierre’s mouth feels very dry. “Yeah, it is uh… definitely private,” he says in lieu of romantic. 

“Almost like a date.”

“Between friends!” Pierre supplies before he can stop to think, and then mentally nukes himself, because what the fuck.

“Hmm.” Yuki observes Pierre thoughtfully with a curious head tilt. “Okay then,” he finally says, as if whether it was a friendly dinner or a date was his choice. “If you think so.”

“Uh-huh, so.” Pierre picks up his menu and starts perusing between the options. “What do you want to get?”

“Most expensive dish,” he says immediately, picking up the menu to no doubt find the one with the biggest numbers. Pierre groans, feeling strongly like he should regret promising Yuki he would pay for their meal, but finding himself unable to.

“You are an opportunistic asshole, you know that?”

Yuki only responds with the same mischievous smile. He puts the menu down in front of them and points at the item he wants. Surprisingly enough, it’s not the most expensive thing on the menu, but it is definitely markedly more expensive than other things. He sighs, and lets Yuki order it anyway.

Notes:

sorry for posting so late 💀 but have fun with this chapter :)

Chapter 5: A Date Between...

“What a good meal,” Yuki says as he climbs into the passenger seat of the car, smiling wide.

Pierre clicks his seatbelt into place, more than a little proud that he found a restaurant Yuki likes. “Finally up to your standards?”

Yuki nods approvingly. “Yeah, I’m going to save this one on Google Maps. I’ll come back here next time, probably.”

“I’ll go with you,” Pierre says, almost reflexively. “You can pay next time.”

Yuki scrunches his face in protest. “Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I will do some charity for you.”

“Don't act so scandalized!” Pierre gasps, acting rather scandalized. “I've paid for most of our meals in the past!”

“I know, I know,” Yuki says, smiling playfully. “Don't worry, I will pay next time.”

“That’s a deal now.”

Yuki hums in agreement, and the conversation bubbles down into a comfortable silence, the hum of the engine filling the gaps as Pierre backs the car out of the parking lot and onto the road. Today has been a good day, Pierre thinks. He had fun with Yuki, had great food, and made Yuki happy. The only drawback is that it has to end.

“Hey,” he starts, suddenly hit with a stroke of genius. “Do you want to go to the cinemas with me again?”

Yuki tilts his head questioningly. “I thought last time was an exception? You said you only take women to the movies.”

“Well yes, but—” Pierre pauses as he glances out of the window to make a turn. “It… doesn't have to be an exception this time,” he says. It can be a date this time , he means, except his heart is already pounding out of his chest at even the implication of asking Yuki out on a romantic date, so he goes with something more nuanced instead. Obviously, it flies right over Yuki’s head.

“What do you mean, it doesn't have to be an exception? I'm still a guy, how is it not an exception?”

“No, I mean—” Pierre sighs, and gives up the point. “Whatever, do you want to go or not?”

“Yes!” Yuki says quickly, as if afraid Pierre might actually take back the offer. “I want to go. What are we gonna watch?”

“Is there anything you want to watch?”

“I haven't checked the movies out, recently,” Yuki says with a shrug. “I can check when I get back to my hotel room, though.”

“Okay, you can choose the movie then. When are you free?”

Yuki takes a second to think. “I'm only free tomorrow, actually.”

“Okay, we can do tomorrow,” Pierre says nonchalantly, very aware of his not empty schedule for the next day. “The later the better, I think.”

Yuki hums in agreement. “Night time movie then,” he says decisively.

---

Pierre receives a text from Yuki an hour later while he’s lazing in bed, scrolling Instagram Reels.

Yuki: www.linktomovie.whatever

Yuki: We go watch this at 8

Yuki: ?

Yuki: Sent one attachment

Yuki: These seats

Pierre clicks the photo first. It's a screenshot of the open seats for the movie, and two of them are circled in red. He clicks the link next. It opens to the showing of a horror movie at a nearby movie theatre.

Pierre: You want to watch a horror movie?

Yuki: It looks interesting

Yuki: And I get to watch you scream

Yuki: Its almost like comedy

Pierre: I think I'll be watching you scream

Pierre: You jump whenever there's a loud noise

Yuki: But I dont scream

Pierre: I don't either!

Yuki: Whatever

Yuki: Do you want to watch it

Pierre: Of course, it looks interesting

Pierre: I'll get my tickets now

Pierre: See you tomorrow at 8?

Yuki: Yes 👍

If Pierre were any weaker of a man, he would scream into his pillow and kick his feet excitedly. Instead, he wears a giddy smile while he clicks open the movie link once more to buy his tickets.

---

The next day, when Pierre wakes up, it's to the sound of his phone being blown up by notifications. He blinks blearily as he grabs it, turning it on to see notification after notification pop up on his lock screen, all from Charles. He groans and unlocks it, clicking the next notification that pops up to bring him directly into his messages.

Charles: Pierre

Charles: Pierre

Charles: Pierre

Charles: Pierre

Charles: Pierre

Charles: Pierre

Charles: Pierre

Charles: Wake up

Charles: Wake up

Charles: WAKE UP

Pierre: What the fuck, Charles

Charles: FINALLY

Charles: You need to update me on what happened with Yuki

Charles: Did you take him to that restaurant you said you found?

Pierre groans and contemplates putting his phone on do not disturb to go back to sleep.

Pierre: Was this seriously something you had to message me at 7 AM for

Charles: I decided it was the first thing I will do when I wake up

Charles: So now that you're awake, you might as well tell me

Pierre: What if I just go back to sleep instead

Charles: I will break into your room again

Charles: Don't test me

Considering what happened last time Charles said he would be in Pierre’s room, Pierre decides he won't test Charles.

Pierre: Fine

Pierre: You are so annoying

Charles: It's what you get for being too stupid to recognize your own feelings when they were standing right in front of you

Charles: Now tell me what happened

Pierre: Well

Pierre: Nothing special, really

Pierre: We just got dinner together

Pierre: It was fun

Pierre: Yuki liked the food a lot

Charles: That’s so boring

Charles: Is it even a date at that point?

Pierre: I didn’t mean for it to be one

Pierre: He did say he thought it was almost like a date, because the place had romantic vibes

Pierre: But it wasn’t a date

Pierre’s phone lights up to a call incoming screen, Charles’ name plastered at the top. He groans again and sits up before accepting the call and putting it on speaker.

“Pierre!” Charles screeches through the phone. “He told you he thought it was like a date?!” Pierre winces and taps the volume down button quickly.

“Yeah,” he says, sliding out of bed to get ready for the day. “I might have told him it was between friends, though.”

The resulting silence makes him cringe. He already knows Charles is judging him heavily.

“I don’t think I need to say anything for you to realize how stupid you are this time.”

Pierre sighs. “I know,” he says, voice muffled as he pulls a shirt over his head. “I caught myself after I already said it.”

“Okay well, what's the plan now?”

“I asked him yesterday to go to the cinemas with me again, so we're doing that tonight.”

“Is it a date this time?”

“Well— I mean, I wanted it to be?”

“But it isn't.”

Pierre takes a second to think of some sort of comeback, and comes up empty handed. “It isn't,” he concedes miserably. “Look. I tried, okay?”

“You tried?” Charles parrots incredulously. “What do you mean, you tried? Did he reject you or something? How do you fail at asking a man out on a date?”

“I— do you remember that thing I have about usually taking women out on dates to the cinemas?”

Charles hums, urging him to continue.

“Well, Yuki knows about that. Last time we went to the cinema, I told him it was an exception. This time when I asked him if he wanted to go, I told him it didn't have to be an exception.” Pierre sighs and picks his phone off his bed to take it with him to brush his teeth. “He didn't understand, though.”

“Of course he didn't understand!” Charles scoffs. “There are, like, five layers to that! Why make it so complicated?”

“It's stressful!” Pierre says as he puts toothpaste on his toothbrush. “I have no clue if Yuki is into me like that!”

Pierre catches part of Charles’ exasperated groan through the speaker. He seems to have moved too far away for the sound to pick up properly. “It's so obvious though!” he whines. “You guys are both head over heels for each other, it's ridiculous!”

“How do you know that?” Pierre retorts, except his mouth is full of toothpaste, so it sounds more like “how oo you owe at?”

“He called your dinner a date!” Charles says. “Look, Pierre,” he continues, conviction laden in his voice. “Just trust me on this. Ask him if it can be a date—he’ll say yes, I know it.”

Pierre spits the toothpaste foam out of his mouth with a frown. “And if he doesn't?”

“I know he will. If he says no I'll give you a tow next quali—that’s how confident I am.”

Pierre blinks, a little shocked at how sure Charles sounds. “Really now,” he says, weighing his options. “You promise?”

“One-hundred percent, I am sure. I promise.”

Pierre sighs. “I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into this,” he mutters. “I'll ask him now, then. Talk to you later?”

Charles scoffs. “Talk to me as soon as you're done asking, more like.”

“Whatever,” Pierre says, rolling his eyes. “Goodbye.”

“Bye!”

As soon as the call is over, Pierre closes his eyes, steeling himself for what he is about to do. He opens his text messages with Yuki and starts typing.

Pierre: Yuki

He lets his phone sit after that. He doesn't want to ask until Yuki is there to answer right away. Luckily, Yuki answers a little while later, when Pierre is eating breakfast.

Yuki: Whats up

Pierre: Do you remember when I said yesterday that us going to the cinemas didn't have to be an exception?

Yuki: Yeah

Yuki: What about it

Pierre takes a deep breath in. Here goes nothing.

Pierre: I meant that it could be a date

Pierre: If you want it to be

Pierre: I was asking you out on a date

Yuki: Why would you say it like that

Yuki: Stupid

Pierre: We can forget about it if you don't want to

Yuki: No

Yuki: Don't forget

Yuki: I want to

Pierre: It's a date then?

Yuki: Yes idiot

Yuki: I cant believe you thought I would understand when you said exception

Pierre: Cut me some slack

Pierre: I was stressed

Yuki: Its okay

Yuki: You got there at the end

Pierre’s heart is doing weird things in his chest, and he doesn't think he's ever smiled this wide in his life.

Yuki: See you at 8 ⁠♡

Notes:

HE FINALLY GOT HIS SHIT TOGETHER WE CHEERED!! Sorry for the slow chapters LOL I got writers block bc I fucked up the flow on my chapters BUT IM BACK!!! If anyone wants to follow me on twitter go @YukiGasly you can watch me yell about writers block and tell me to get my shit together faster

Chapter 6: Moving Fast

Notes:

Uni started again unfortunately 😔 so I've had zilch time to write. But! I've managed to pull together a chapter :) so enjoy!!!

Pierre’s hands start to sweat as he walks up the stairs to the entrance of the movie theatre. He’d gone through his entire day riding on the high of successfully asking Yuki out on a date, and now the first-date anxiety that he hadn’t thought about beforehand is hitting him all at once. A glance at his watch tells him that he's eight minutes early, which he supposes is a good thing because the movie is supposed to start at eight, except that’s without including all the expected trailers and advertisements. They’d agreed to meet at the concession stand, so he starts to head in that direction. As he approaches, he realizes there’s a familiar mop of black hair sitting in one of the chairs, scrolling through his phone.

Before approaching, Pierre takes a second to smooth out any wrinkles in his hoodie, and make sure his hair is properly styled. He opted for something more casual—a grey hoodie with some green lettering, blue jeans with white newspaper textblock design on it, and white nikes with green accent colours. He has his usual watch on one wrist, and a simple black and gold banded bracelet on the other. Sitting at one of the tables near the concession stand, Yuki wears a pink hoodie with the hood pulled over his head, blue jeans with some floral embroidery, and Pierre can make out hints of a ring on his finger, and bracelets on his wrist. He takes a deep breath in and rolls up his sleeves to show off his forearms. Maybe Yuki is into that?

“Yuki!” Pierre says as he approaches, smiling wide and hoping he doesn’t look like he’s been an anxious mess for the past fifteen or so minutes.

“Pierre!” Yuki says excitedly, mirroring his smile and giving a small wave. “You’re not late!”

Pierre gasps in mock offence. “I can’t believe you think I would be late to a date,” he says, shaking his head disappointedly.

“You’re late to your own work sometimes," Yuki says with a shrug.

“Only sometimes,” Pierre retorts.

“Only,” Yuki echoes. “Well I am earlier this time anyway, so I win.”

“This time?” Pierre repeats teasingly. “Already planning a second date, Yuki?”

Yuki’s cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink, and he looks away shyly. “If you want to?” he asks hesitantly, and then, “I want to,” he says decisively as he looks up at Pierre. It’s then Pierre notices that Yuki’s hoodie seems to be a little too big for him. He’s fiddling with the sleeves anxiously. Holy fuck.

“Of course I want to,” he says quickly after realizing Yuki is still waiting for his response. “I was very happy when you said yes to this being a date, yesterday.”

“Good,” Yuki responds with a tiny nod. “It would kind of suck if you said no.”

“I could never say no to you, chéri,” Pierre says honestly.

Yuki tilts his head curiously. “What is that word, ‘sherry’?”

Pierre’s face goes up in flames. He'd used the nickname instinctively. “It's, uh, it's just a french nickname,” he says awkwardly. “I'll explain to you later. The movie will start soon, do you want to get popcorn?”

“Yeah, okay,” Yuki says, hopping onto his feet. “Want to share a bucket?”

“Sure. Do you want a drink?”

Yuki nods. “I want iced tea.”

They make their orders at the concession stand—Yuki pays, saying that he owes Pierre for their last meal even if popcorn is only a fraction of that price—and get their tickets punched to get into the theatre. Thankfully, either nobody recognizes them (unlikely) or they're being left alone, because they manage to finish the entire process unbothered. While the trailers are still playing, Pierre realizes they haven't gotten a single photo to commemorate.

“We should take a photo before the movie starts,” he says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “For the memories.”

Yuki hums in agreement, and leans in towards Pierre to get a better photo. Taking the opportunity, Pierre wraps an arm around Yuki’s shoulder and pulls him in a little closer, before clicking the button for a few quick photos. Once the photos are done, Yuki doesn't pull away, much to Pierre's delight.

“Lemme see,” Yuki says, reaching for Pierre’s phone. Pierre obliges, letting the little gremlin get what he wants. A few minutes pass where the only sounds made are the trailers and other movie goers, before Yuki turns to Pierre with a wide grin, and flips the phone screen towards him.

Fuck, Pierre thinks.

The brightness of the screen is low, but the image on it is undeniably Yuki’s dick pic. A few seconds pass where Pierre opens and closes his mouth to try and formulate an explanation, while Yuki grabs some popcorn from the bucket and begins to munch on it.

“Okay, I know this looks bad,” he starts cautiously. “But I swear I haven't looked at the photo since you sent it. I downloaded it by accident and forgot to delete it.”

Yuki waggles his eyebrows. “Forgot to delete? Or didn't want to?”

Pierre is going to melt into his seat. “Both?” he says awkwardly. “I didn't want to delete it, and then I forgot it was there.”

Yuki hums in acknowledgement, still smiling wide. “It's okay, you can keep it. I sent it to you on purpose anyway,” he says, handing Pierre his phone. “It’s good that you like it—would be really awkward if you didn't.”

“You—” Pierre starts, but it's at that point that the lights dim and the movie begins, so he loses his chance to question Yuki about sending him a dick pic on purpose. He forgets all about it once the movie starts, anyway, because it turns out that Yuki has an incredible eye for horror movies. They both end up spending the majority of it screaming like children.

“I can't believe how loud you screamed!” Pierre says teasingly as they walk through the parking lot back to the car.

Yuki rolls his eyes and shoves him playfully. “You scream loud too! Like a child.”

“Ah, but not as loud as you,” Pierre says in response, although they probably screamed equally as loud as one another. “You scream like a thousand children.”

“Then you scream like a million.”

“You're not going to let this go, are you?” Pierre says, smiling like a smitten idiot.

Yuki smiles back. “I will not back down.”

“So stubborn,” Pierre says, knowing fully well that he was just as, if not more, stubborn. “Let's just get to the car.”

Yuki hums in agreement. “Okay,” he says. “Will we go to my hotel?”

“Where else would we go?” Pierre says as he reaches into his pocket and fumbles for his car keys. “It would be rude of me not to send you back, no?”

Yuki gives him an inscrutable look, as if looking for something that Pierre can't see. “Okay,” he finally says as they reach the car. Pierre tilts his head questioningly, but doesn't push further. It looked like Yuki had more to say, but he can't think of what.

Eventually, not too long after the car hits the road, Yuki unloads what Pierre assumes he didn't say earlier. “Why did you suddenly decide to ask me on a date?” he asks.

Pierre glances over to Yuki, and finds that Yuki is staring at him.

“I…” he starts, taking a second to collect his thoughts. “Honestly, I think I've liked you for a while, Yuki. I just didn't know before.”

Yuki snaps to attention at that. “For a while? Since when?”

“Hmm… It's a little hard to say,” Pierre says. “For a long time, probably, but I only realized recently.”

Yuki tilts his head questioningly. “What made you realize?”

“Ah, it's—” Pierre runs his hand through his hair awkwardly. “It's a funny story, actually. Charles had to convince me that I—” was in love with you. “I had feelings for you.”

“What do you mean, convince?”

Pierre’s face gets incredibly hot as he remembers exactly what caused the revelation. “So you know the dick pic you said you sent to me on purpose?”

Yuki nods.

“I… I thought it was pretty, and I asked him if he ever found a friend’s dick pretty.”

“You asked him that?” Yuki says incredulously, and then, “Wait, you thought it was pretty?”

“I asked him, and he told me that I was definitely gay for you,” Pierre says, deliberately sidestepping the question about his opinion on Yuki’s dick. “But you're um… you're the first guy I've ever felt this way for, so it took a while for me to understand, I guess.”

Yuki hums pensively. “I will have to thank Charles for helping you out,” he says. “But you thought the picture was pretty?”

Pierre's face gets even hotter. Of course Yuki wouldn't let it go. “I… yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“I see, I see,” Yuki says, mischief running through his voice. “I will do it more then.” When Pierre risks a glance over to Yuki, he has the audacity to wink. Pierre snaps his attention back to the road immediately, ignoring Yuki’s delighted giggles.

With a few more questions from Yuki about Pierre’s gay awakening, they reach Yuki’s hotel.

“And we're here,” Pierre says, parking the car in the parking lot so that he may walk Yuki back to his hotel. Yuki hums, looking a little lost in his thoughts. Pierre doesn't blame him—it’s getting quite late—but he takes a second to observe while he can.

Dim light from the street lamps that hang overhead filter in through the window of the car, making all the edges soft and blurry. Yuki looks so pretty like this, lost in his thoughts. He chews at his lip as he thinks, a habit Pierre can't help but want to reach out to correct. Yuki’s lips have always been so nice.

Fuck, I'm so in love.

 “We're here, Yuki,” he says again, reaching out to grab Yuki’s shoulder this time.

“Oh.” Yuki glances out of the car window to confirm. “Right,” he finally says, and undoes his seatbelt to get out of the car. Although reluctant to let the date end, Pierre does the same, and they start walking toward the hotel entrance.

“I really—” Pierre starts once they reach the entrance.

“Pierre—” Yuki says at the same time. They both pause awkwardly, giving time to the other to say their piece.

“You first,” Yuki says eventually.

“I wanted to say that I really enjoyed spending time with you,” Pierre says, looking into Yuki’s eyes as he does. “And, this might be too fast, but—” Pierre takes a deep breath in and releases it. Fuck, he hasn't thought any of this through, but he’s doing it anyway. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to be with me, like… officially. If you would be mine.”

There's a few moments of silence where Yuki just stares at him with wide eyes, and Pierre thinks he might've just fucked everything. His own face feels incredibly hot, and he can see that Yuki’s own cheeks are getting pinker too.

“I can't believe you just asked me to be your boyfriend on the first date,” Yuki says incredulously. “Of course I want to.”

God, Pierre wants to kiss him. He's smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “Really?”

“Really,” Yuki answers, smiling just as hard. “I, uhm, I've also liked you for a while.” He looks away shyly. “I didn't think this would ever happen.”

Pierre is going to combust, overjoyed that he let his impulsive ideas get the best of him today. He spends another moment just smiling and staring at Yuki, before remembering that Yuki was also trying to say something earlier. “What were you going to say before?”

“Oh.” Yuki looks back up at him, and then smiles mischievously. He grabs Pierre’s arm and starts dragging him towards the elevators. “Come with me.”

Pierre follows, almost stumbling over his own feet in his confusion. Unbidden, he starts giggling at the sudden change of tone. “Yuki, what? What are you doing?”

“It’s a surprise,” Yuki responds as he clicks the elevator up button, which clarifies nothing.

Pierre takes the waiting time to pull himself back together. He can't help but notice that Yuki is still holding him by the wrist. “What surprise?”

The elevator dings open, and Yuki drags him into it. “If I tell you, then it's not a surprise anymore.”

“Yeah, but—” Pierre sighs, understanding that nothing he says will make Yuki reveal anything more. Yuki has the gall to give him a cheeky look. The elevator dings as it reaches its floor, and the doors open. Immediately, Yuki grabs his wrist again and drags him to his hotel room door, unlocking it with his keycard and dragging Pierre in.

“Wait here,” he says, pushing Pierre down to sit on the bed. Pierre sits down obediently, still incredibly confused as to what is happening.

“Yuki, what—” Pierre starts, stopping when Yuki completely ignores him in favour of digging through a drawer for something, and then beelining for the washroom. Pierre would say he's never been so confused in his life, but that spot has already been taken by the revelation of his feelings for Yuki.

Pierre has only ever been more confused once in his life, but that doesn't make this situation any less confusing.

Notes:

GRAHHHH one chapter left y'all :) can anyone guess what's going on