Cars and Frosted Tips: Lighting McQueen x Guy Fieri

Coffee, The Past, and Love

Trigger warning: abuse

Lighting McQueen POV

My life is what you'd call, a joke. I'm a single broke college student, working at a coffee shop, and I can barely maintain my grades. Day after day of training, washing dishes, making coffee, but today is my first day working the cash register. To be honest, I'm not that social, I wish I could talk to people as well as Mater, one of my coworkers, but it pays a bit more, so I'll make it work. It goes well, just a few women, but then, lunch rush, every workers worst nightmare, the line to order triples in no time, taking order after order. After what seemed like forever, everyone is out as soon as they came in. I needed some extra cash, so I volunteered to work overtime and close up shop, but as I finish putting away the straws, I hear a knock. I follow it, through the store as it repeats, once I reach the source of the sound, I see that is a young man with some killer frosted tips. I unlock the door,

"Sorry we're closed" I state with an aggravated tone.

"No, please, I beg you." He cries.

"What do you need?" I sigh letting him in.

"I need four coffees!" He blurts out.

"Four?" I question.

"I'm on a coffee run for my business, and all of the shops in a 20 mile radius are close."

"Well yeah, it's 1 am, way past standard business hours."

"I really need those coffees, they're counting on me!"

"Ugh, Fine."

"Thank you so much."

"Whatever" I huff

"I'm Guy, by the way, Guy Fieri"

"I'm Lighting, Lighting McQueen" I shout from the kitchen.

It's a bit awkward, the silence is killing me. But I finish the four drinks, and carry them out to the man.

"Thank you"

"Oh, no problem." I say as I set the drinks on the table, taking a seat.

"So, Lighting, tell me about yourself."

"Um, there's not much. I'm just a broke college student, living from paycheck to paycheck. What about you, what's your story"

"Well, I was abused as a child, my father used to get out of control and eventually the teachers saw my bruises and called child protective services."

"Oh, I'm so sorry"

"No, it's not your fault. The worst thing is, I haven't seen my father since, I would just like to know if he's okay. You know?"

There's tears running down his cheeks now,

"My dad was a good man."

"What?"

"He did it because he was drunk, after my mom died, he couldn't take it so, he turned to drinking."

"That gives him no right to hit you!"

"What do you know, you barely know me."

"I know enough from this small moment together, that you are an amazing person, that deserves better than this."

"No I don't" he says looking down hands in his palms.

"Yes you do! And don't ever say you don't deserve to live ever again!" I'm crying now, practically screaming at him. "You're perfect, and you deserve the world!"

"What?" He says looking up, blushing, "You think I'm perfect."

My face turns brighter than a tomato. "Uh yeah."

"How?"

"You're smart, kind, and beautiful"

"Did you just call me beautiful" He smiles

"Uh, yeah. I did, If that makes you uncomfortable, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, you're pretty beautiful yourself"

I lean in grabbing his face and pressing his lips against mine. (Things happen here Wink wonk)

For some reason I have a feeling this is the last I'll see of him. He doesn't say anything afterwards, but grabs his bag and leaves.

.  .  .
Author's Comments
I'm sorry