First Sight, Daveed Diggs x Reader
Prompt: Rafa sets Daveed and Reader up.
Author’s Note: Day 5! Two more days to go! I might have to wait until 1000 followers to do this again because we’ve already gained 40 followers in the past 5 days! You guys are so amazing!
Rafa and you were rather unlikely friends, from rather humble beginnings. Partners on a random project in a high school English class turned lunchroom pals. You’d pass notebooks back and forth, ideas thirty years into the future, rhymes that weren’t quite great yet - but you were working on them.
Those midday scribbles in a year old notebook turned into college applications and an apartment rental split between the two of you.
Eventually, you had to go your separate ways - with promises of future support and care packages already planned out.
Your departure to the east coast put a strain on your friendship. There was an occasional get together when you happened to stop by for the holidays. Sometimes he would meet up with you, in town to ‘meet with some colleagues’.
You started to gain traction with your spoken word. Enough to pay the bills, but not enough to feel compromised.
Rafa visited more often as he grew closer to his new ‘colleagues’. He started inviting you out with these people, but you always politely declined. He insisted he could connect you with the people you deserved to be connected with, you insisted you were happy where you were.
“That’s not what I mean.” He told you one day over coffee, “Not professional connections. A personal one. You have a fan.”
“A fan?” You challenged. “Sounds…insane.”
“He’s very cute.” He insisted.
“Then you date him.”
“He’s got his eyes on you.” He sat back in his chair, “But believe me, if there was any inclination he was interested in me-”
“Alright, set it up.” You brushed off, nonchalantly, which was quickly met by a loud cheer of celebration from him.
He went to work quickly, texts at three in the morning on if it was appropriate for him to bring flowers for you, and whether or not you felt a coffee date was just a bit too casual.
Which is how you found yourself in a snooty New York bar, one beer in, wearing a dress Rafa had chosen for you. He had yet to show, and through it was still fifteen minutes until the time you had agreed upon, you were beginning to wonder if he ever would show.
“Y/N?” You heard.
You whipped around, only to be met with exactly the opposite of who you expected. Rafa had restrained himself from describing him - something about the element of surprise, and a poet’s first sight of love and blah blah blah.
He was certainly something. You didn’t know what to focus on, really, there was just so much to take in.
Then he smiled, and there was nothing else to look at. He raised his eyebrow expectantly at you, and you realized he was waiting for something from you.
“Daveed.” You answered, much more breathless than you wished to be.
“What brings you to New York?” You asked, after an extensive background of just how proud he was to be a west coast native.
“Broadway, I’m in rehearsal for a show right now.” He brushed it off, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Ooh, la, la! The lavish life of a Broadway actor!” You mused, ordering a water.
“Right.” He laughed, “Hardly lavish. This is the only solid food I’ve eaten all week.” He pointed to the bowl of assorted nuts, which he had been nervously picking at all night.
“Maybe we should have gotten dinner instead.” You faltered for a moment, realizing just how flirty that came off. He huffed out a laugh at your embarrassment.
“There’s always next time.” He told you, “Although, maybe we should be careful. Rafa might actually have a heart attack if he knows he set this up.”
You felt his hand on your knee - the first intimate moment you shared. You suddenly remember the rant Rafa had gone on that you half-listened to. The poet’s first sight of love.
“I had it with you.” Rafa told you, “When I met you, I knew I loved you. Pure, platonic, creative love.” You cooed out an awe, attempting to pinch his cheek, which he batted away, “I think there could be something there between you. Just give it a chance!”
“Do you have a pen on you?” You asked frantically as Daveed fished one out. You snatched a napkin from the stack near the end of the bar, scribbling away as fast as your hand would allow.
“What’s going on?” Daveed asked after several minutes of your insistent writing. “Did I do something?”
“No.” You mumbled, “You’re fine. Just-” Your pen faltered, you took a breath and met his gaze, “We should go out again.”
“Okay.” He said excitedly. “Whatever you say. When? Where?”
“Tomorrow morning? Breakfast before you go back to your ‘starving actor’ gig?” You stuffed the napkins into your purse, recapping his pen, shoving it in his hands.
“Keep it, it seems like you’re putting it to better use.” He glanced at his watch, checking the time. “We should get going, I have a hot date tomorrow morning that I can’t miss.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, balancing the pen on your ear.
He escorted you to the curb outside, quickly hailing a cab for you.
“Can I ask? What were you writing?”
You paused, wondering if it was too early to share. You took the plunge, fishing in your purse for the first napkin you could find. You pushed it into his hand without second thought and climbed into the taxi before you could second guess yourself.
He watched for a moment as your taxi retreated into the busy street, letting out a breath that was visible in the cold New York air.
He unfolded the napkin, barely able to make out your rushed handwriting.
The poet’s first sight of love - why Rafa may one day be my maid of honor.