#timotheec

“Wow, good evening Timothee,” You leaned in and pressed a kiss against his cheek. In a smooth motion, he did the same, then another to the colder cheek. “This place is beautiful.”

“Much like you tonight,” He said, then extended an arm to pull out your chair for you.

“Oh, how smooth,” You chuckled, tucking yourself in though you wanted to be close to Timothee for longer. Whatever cologne that he was wearing was divine. You had to admit, this man lit a fire inside of you, one that you could feel the warmth of long after your dates were over. He sat across from you, his hair a halo of black curls, contrasting against the white of his dress shirt.

Timothee Chalamet. You knew a lot of people would kill to be where you are right now, sitting across from him, at the same table as James McAvoy. The two men had met through Saorise Ronan, who had worked with both of them, and despite the age difference, had sparked up a friendship. You met Timothee when he reached out to you after seeing some art that you had done of him and posted online, then the two of you set up your friends together. And things since then had been ... well, magical.

Your glass was immediately filled with wine upon sitting down. You didn’t even need to ask - Timothee had clearly set things up before you and your friend had arrived together. “Hello James, are you well?” You asked the more casual-looking man. The Scot looked over at you from a grin, though his eyes betrayed that it was hard to look away from the lovely visage of your friend.

“Very well, and you?” He asked in return.

“The same,” You said, letting the conversation end there so that he could go back to looking at your blushing friend. You were in the same boat as her. Whenever Timothee’s eyes looked over you, you felt a blush go across your cheeks. At the very least, you never had to spend money on blushing makeups when he was around. Menus were put in front of you, and the waiter stood silently not far away, awaiting orders. It didn’t feel like he was lurking, so he was doing a rather good job.

You ordered what looked best to you, and took to mind some of the recommendation’s that Timothee gave. James and your friend immediately engaged in conversation, leaving just you and Timothee to look at one another. “Perhaps I should have gotten two tables,” Timothee said with a laugh. You chuckled along, agreeing, since it seemed you two were invisible to the duo.

“I don’t mind it so much. It’s nice to see them so happy, isn’t it?” You were beaming like a star. “And I’m sure that they feel the same way about us, if they stopped making heart eyes at each other for even a second.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind having you to myself for a while,” Timothee said, making your heart flutter. Your knees were shaking beneath the table, and you used the excuse of politely setting a cloth napkin on your lap to rub them to try to get them to calm down. This was your third date together, and you were hoping - well - you were hoping for something big to happen tonight. A kiss on the lips was what you were hoping for most, but if he wanted to go ahead and ask you to  be his, you were already more than willing to say yes.

His foot found yours under the table, his ankle brushing past yours. God - as if you didn’t need more reasons to blush today. “So what did you do today?” He asked, picking up his wineglass. He seemed so calm and collected, but in the golden light, you could see that there was a touch of pink on his own pale cheeks.

“Oh, just a bit of work. The gallery show is coming up soon and I’m a bit nervous that I’m not going to finish this piece on time,” You sighed. You picked up your own glass, and swirled the liquid inside rather than take a drink straight away.

“If you need any further incentive, I got myself a ticket to the show,” Timothy said with a grin. You tilted your head at that, and looked at him with confusion. He mimicked that. “Was I not supposed to?”

“Well, you could have saved yourself the price. I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date, eventually.” You realized that the day was coming up sooner than expected, the time was moving so fast. You had been running out of time to ask him.

“I assumed you were bringing your friend - I’m sorry,” Timothee frowned. “I can return the ticket, or donate it-”

“Oh, no,” You said, returning the glass to the table then reached out to take his hand. It was such a forward gesture that it surprised even you. But you squeezed it anyway. “The thought that you would actually pay to go is just - I’ve never dated anyone this supportive before, I guess is what I’m trying to say. It’s a bit surprising but it’s very much appreciated. Thank you.”

Timothee’s eyes never left yours. It made you have the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. “I’ve been hoping that you would ask me - why don’t I give the ticket to a friend of yours as a gift?”

“I’m sure they’d like that,” You said, turning towards your friend to see if they even heard that, but alas, the conversation that she was having with James was too deep for anything to penetrate.

The rest of the dinner date went off without a hitch. The food was absolutely amazing, the ambiance was great, and of course, the company was incomparable. When your group of four returned to the street outside, James put his arm around your friend and looked at you and Timothee with a grin.

“I think we’re going to go for a walk over that way,” He said, motioning his head behind him. “I’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

“Text me when you get home,” You said to your friend, leaning in to give her a hug.

“Don’t wait up,” She said with a smirk, making you chuckle. You said goodbye one last time, then were left alone with Timothee. As much as you loved dinner, this was the part of the night that you were hoping for the most.

“Would you like to go for a drive?” Timothee asked formally, offering you his arm.

“I would love to,” You said, wrapping your hand around his arm. He lead you towards the dark car that he had parked across the street. It was a sleek and smooth car, not flashy enough for people to take pictures of it while passing by, but definitely luxurious once you were inside of it. He had opened the passenger side door for you, then closed it once you were on the leather seat with your seatbelt on.

Starting up the car was rather silent - the radio didn’t blare, and the engine barely purred. Rather than keeping both hands on the wheel, Timothee took a chance and put his hand on your knee. It was a respectful place, and you felt his respect, but you wanted to be a little daring tonight. You took hold of his hand and brought it up a little higher, halfway up your thigh, then left it there. You were pleased to see that it got a reaction out of him. It was his turn to blush, to feel the butterflies. He kept his eyes on the road as he drove through the tree-lined street, but you could see his smile. Every stop sign and red light, his gaze wandered.

“Are we going anywhere in particular?” You asked, settling back against the seat. Your head was tilted towards him rather than to the window, the scenery not important tonight. You liked the way that he had a rogue curl hanging in front of his forehead. You liked the way that his eyebrows slashed across his pale face, how his dark eyes lit up like a cat’s whenever a passing car’s headlights hit them. You liked the way that the car smelt like him -  almost like a mixture of brandy and pine. And most of all, you loved the way that his muscles looked beneath that shirt, the fabric resting on them perfectly.

“Just a little place that I know,” He told you. You pouted at the vagueness of his answer, though it did keep you on your toes. He turned on the radio, playing classical music ever so softly. Everything just felt so warm and cozy in the car, there was only one thing missing. And Timothee felt that too. His hand tightened ever so slightly on your thigh, sending a tingle through your body.

Eventually, he turned off of the main road and onto a small, rather winding one, which lead to a small parking lot. There was only two other cars there, which made you a little suspicious. “Here is the place,” He said, parking perfectly in one of the spots, and turned off the car. You took off your seatbelt and got out before he could circle around to open your door, which made him pout. You ignored this and looked around, but couldn’t see much. It was too dark out here. There were small lights which illuminated a footpath, and then some more in the distance.

“And what is this place?” You asked, leaving your wallet tucked under the seat of his car. Whatever place this was, it didn’t seem like it would be expensive, or even cost anything. The air was sweet, and fresh out here. It smelt of lavender and rose. A park, you thought, but didn’t guess aloud.

“Somewhere special,” He said, being vague again. You shook your head, wondering if this was a retaliation for not letting him open up your door.

“Well, you better lead me then, because I can barely make out a thing.” You reached for him and he took hold of your hand in his, then put another arm around your waist so you were very close to him, nearly in front of him, in fact. You could feel his hairs on the back of your neck as he leaned in, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Move forward. I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” You tried to insist.

“Then why are you squeezing my hand so tightly? I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Maybe I just like the feel of your hand,” You retorted, making him chuckle right against your ear. He said nothing more as you lead you forward. The path was made of dirt and large slabs of stone embedded in the ground. He was right to be holding you, since you nearly tripped a couple of times.

Once you were at the end of the path, there were many more lights. They were strewn across the ground in ideal positions to shine out from underneath the flowers that were planted around. It seemed to be a large garden of some sort. Something out of a fairytale.

“And how many people have you brought here, Prince Charming?” You asked, turning around and put your arms around his neck. His arm stayed around your waist, and you felt like you were in some sort of Disney movie. He would make an amazing Prince Eric, now that you thought about it.

“You’re the first - other than my mom, of course. She used to bring me out here when I was a boy. The lilacs and the orchids were her favorites.”

“I can picture it,” You said, closing your eyes slowly. You hadn’t met his mother, but you could imagine little Timothee running around in the grass, getting stains on his trousers, picking the flowers and returning them to his mother. “This place really is special, then.”

“I told you it was,” He let go of you and took a seat on the ground, not caring if his trousers got dirty. You followed suit - who cared about a little gas stain. That’s why dry-cleaners were for. “I wanted to ask you something at dinner but with James and y/f/n there, it didn’t seem quite right.”

“Oh?” You asked breathlessly. Your hopes were up high now. Though knowing Timothee, he could make this into a silly situation. But he seemed to be as serious as you were.

“I know it would be hard and everything, giving the media these days,” He said, pulling little bits of grass out of the ground and making a neat pile of it in front of him. His fingers, so long and so nimble, were his way of distracting himself from getting nervous. “And they would be asking you questions all of the time, and you would be approached by every designer to wear their clothes for my premieres and such...”

“Are you trying to find excuses not to ask me?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No, no, I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into with me.”

“Timothee, one of your fans livestreamed out first lunch together. I figured that out pretty quickly. Now get on with it, because I’ve known my answer for quite some time now.”

“Do you want to be with me?” He finally sputtered out. You’d never seen him so shy before, it touched your heart.