Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Daniel Jacobi was in everybody’s contacts list. There wasn’t a weekend he wasn’t invited to a party. That being said, Daniel Jacobi was an avid party-goer. An extroverted introvert who knew too many people in too many places. Well, in his defense how could he not know many people? Especially when they stand in line and greet him with their order of a double espresso, soy milk, no foam latte, or whatever designer order they have for him to memorize and conjure.

You see, Daniel wasn’t so A-lister as his reputation precedes him as such. He didn’t come from much compared to his friends. All he owns is an apartment and a closet full of designer clothes his quote-unquote friends gift him. He was the least fashionable person he knows, but maybe that came from the fact that his best friend is a super model. Fashion was both a blessing and a curse.

Then one early morning, he watched as this tall guy in a really expensive suit stumble into the café and bump against all available furniture as he made his way to the cashier, to Daniel.

“Hungover?” Daniel questioned, clearly amused at him.

The man heaved, “Yeah.”

“Party?”

The man heaved again, this time shaky. “Fight, with my daughter.” He said as he gambled eye contact with Daniel.

Daniel winced, there were unshed tears, “Sorry buddy.”

“Some hurtful words were thrown, and I caught them all.” The man said as he patted his pants pockets then the lapels of his jacket, looking up the menu board overhead.

“Mmhm, I got ya, man.” Daniel told him and gestured for the man to take a seat. He whipped up his signature hungover remedy. Well, he’s only done it for his hungover friends, he hasn’t done it for customers. Maybe he could put it up like a kind of Starbucks secret menu.

Daniel exit behind the cashier and hand-delivered the man's notcoffee. Whatever is in it, Daniel knew by heart, it tasted like the most inhumane thing in existence, but the man doesn’t know that, what he doesn’t know won’t kill him

The man looked up from his phone, from where Daniel stood, he had a vantage point. The guy was clearly looking at pictures of puppies and kitties. Daniel won’t judge, people have their own way of coping. Daniel rounded the table, standing across the man and placed the cup on the table.

The man brightened up, “Ah god, you’re a lifesaver.” The man said as he held the cup greedily. “How much do I owe you?”

Daniel shrugged, digging his apron pocket. “It’s on the house.”

The man looked up at him in faux adoration. Daniel couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I love you.”

Daniel laughed, clamping the man’s shoulder, “Love you too, man.”

“Daniel Jacobi!” Came Isabel's voice as she entered the café, “It’s almost criminal that you didn’t come to Ryan Dalias’ party, you ass.”

The man winced, prompting Daniel to go to where Isabel plopped down and shush her.

Isabel hadn’t noticed the man as she was wearing sunglasses that made her look like a high-class cyberpunk. She had a sour look on her pretty face as she took off her sunglasses and placed it on the table, “You don’t shush me, you disaster gay. I'm also having a headache just seeing your pretty ugly mug early in the morning.”

“If I give you coffee, will you stop shouting?” Daniel asked, resigned. She must have had a row with her manager again.

Isabel beamed, “Thank you!” Then proceeded to lie supine on the couch.

The man stood up, turning to Daniel with a weak smile just as Daniel walked away from Isabel. “Thank you again, for this.” He raised the drink.

Daniel stuck his hands again in his apron. “Yeah, word of wisdom, it tastes better if you’re less aware of everything.”

The man nodded, “Where's your tip jar?” Daniel gestured to the makeshift tip jar that is a glass jar of Nutella beside the cash register. He made his way behind the counter.

Daniel was too occupied making Isabel's Americano to even notice the man put something in the jar and left the café.

He didn’t even give the jar a glance until closing time, 7 PM.

“What,” he said in utter disbelief, “what,” holding a crisp 100 dollar bill.

He was hoping the next morning. That the man would come by the shop again. For Daniel to thank him, but to no avail.

“What’s your wifi password?”

Daniel looked up from the cash register and was greeted with a girl with a blonde medium bob and wearing a sweater with the crest of Hyrule from Legend of Zelda. She was clutching her phone to her chest.

“I like your sweater,” he told her, “where’d you get it from?”

“Thanks, my dad got it for me. I don’t even think he understood what it is.”

Daniel snorted, “Baby Boomers, right?” He scribbled on the Wi-Fi password on the back of a receipt.

She laughed, then went off to a corner where she had her laptop set up.

When Daniel noticed she actually didn’t order anything, he shouted loud enough. “Uhm, it comes with an order! The wifi password, that is.”

“Chocolate mint frappe!” The girl exclaimed before putting on a pair of those chunky huge headphones.

He makes her order, and when he gave her the chocolate mint frappe, she handed him a crisp 50 bill.

“Keep the change.” She told him and did a small sip of the foam.

“Oh wow.” Was all Daniel could muster as he held the bill in both hands.

“Your welcome.”

It was the end of the week and it was closing time. And Daniel was ready to let loose at Renee Minkowski's party.

He was wiping a table to its previous taupe glory, two kids spilled their mom's Americano on the table and its visibly a different shade than the tables around it, and Daniel’s been considering taking it home to bleach it.

Then the door opens.

Daniel doesn’t look up to see the newcomer, but acknowledge their presence with a resigned sigh, “Dude, we’re closed for the day.”

“I was hoping to repay a stranger's kindness.” Said a familiar voice.

Daniel looked up in recognition and saw it was that Hungover guy.

“Oh hey you.” Daniel greeted with a toothy grin.

The man smiled, “I’m hoping you’re free tonight?”

Daniel winced, “Ahh man, shit. Friend’s function tonight.” Before the man could smile politely and leave, Daniel quickly said, “The café’s close tomorrow. How about lunch?” Maybe he shouldn’t have proposed lunch, the man looks important enough to have a lunch date with an Arabian prince or something.

“Alright.” The man replied.

They exchanged numbers and the man left. As Daniel locked the café, he had half a mind to bail on Renee and text the man.

Chapter Text

Renee was a story ran through the socialite tabloids. The only daughter of a French diplomat and a Polish astrophysicist, she was basically a princess of a small country. Renee is now engaged to Dominik Koudelka, the president of his own publishing company.

Just as she was just engaged, she was having a winter wedding. she’s having her bachelorette party.

Now for her party, she had the fun idea of having a faux RuPaul party.

“I'm wearing what?!” Daniel was stripped to his boxers and he was not getting into some weird Marie Antoinette shit.

Doug Eiffel, Wolf 359 FM's star radio host, held it down to look at Daniel through the lace, “Isabel said you'd look great in periwinkle.”

Daniel frowned, he should’ve have known, Isabel was the asshole who knew what color looked best for him. He sighed in resignation, “Give it here.”

Knowing Renee, there were the socialite crowd that she was obligated to invite to keep up appearances.

“David Klein is in the crowd!” Doug whispered in shock and disbelief, “he’s with a girl!” he only acted like that for Daniel's sake. Doug wasn’t his friend long enough for him to have first hand account of Daniel’s and David’s messy break up.

Isabel took out her mace from her purse and shook it for good measure, “Let me teach him a lesson.”

“Guys, its fine.” He told them, resigned at their dedication to keep up hating a person they don’t necessarily hate. But Isabel had first hand experience of the messy break up, Daniel should really ask her, fuck, plead her, to delete the video of them screaming their heads off.

When Daniel entered the stage with two professional drag queens, the music for Hamilton's Work started.

Daniel turned to the DJ booth and glared daggers at Doug.

Doug could only mouth the word “Renee".

And Daniel had to lipsync as Eliza.

The utter amazement and joy from Renee's face was worth the incredulous look Daniel got from David. Fuck his ex sideways, he’s doing this for Renee. He’s done weirder shit for Renee when she was depressed.

Daniel was screeching when he ran backstage to get off the five-inch heels. A song number from Kinky Boots was playing when he left the stage. Renee entered the backstage and hugged Daniel.

He grinned as he hugged her back, “I'm still a part of your entourage, yeah?”

“Oh definitely!” She said as she went back out to greet her friends and acquaintances through the microphone.

Once Daniel was in a pair of comfy clothes (he didn’t see but Doug had apparently put his nachos on a chair and Daniel didn’t see so Daniel’s pants were a lovely chili color. Doug had lent him his gym pants for the time being), Daniel went to the bar to get mocktail as he wanted to wake up early and actually get around to making himself a good breakfast. He wasn’t good at cooking but he can manage a few pastries. And managing few pastries meant not fucking up the amount of baking soda for a pancake. Then again he could ditch the baking powder and use another recipe.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Daniel turned and saw it was that kid who wore that Legend of Zelda sweater the other day. “Oh hey. I remember you.”

The girl was in a green tartan print two piece suit, had her phone in one hand. “How’s Alexander doing?”

He scoffed, “I beat his ass up with his dumb Reynolds pamphlet. Men, right?”

The girl grinned at him, “Oh totally.” She pocketed her hands, “So, you got IG or Twitter? You seem like a cool guy to hang with.”

They exchange info over cocktails, share pleasant stories, make connections of who were the common people in their social groups.

“Oh yeah, David’s a great guy, he took me as his plus one.” Alana told Daniel. “We’re not close, he's just adopted me. Like how popular girls would adopt the new kid. But David’s still great.”

“Mm, he must be.” Daniel commented, distant.

She was drinking pineapple juice. “Oh, I could introduce you two guys.” She offered.

If panic had picture, it must be on his face now. “Ahh, no. No need, he knows me well enough. Introductions aren’t needed.” The words out his mouth was calmer than how he acted.

Alana stared at him, completely aware of how Daniel behaved just now. She raised a well-groomed brow. “Are you two friends or something?”

He swallowed his spit albeit too noisily and admitted. “Yeah.”

Alana hummed, “David’s actually my neighbor.”

“At Hermes?”

“No, Urania.”

He tried very hard not to sound so disheartened at the fact. “Huh, he changed apartments.”

“Yeah.” She definitely noticed that.

They settled into a silence.

He turned back to look at her, and asked “You still in school?”

“Yeah. College.” She took a sip of her pineapple.

Daniel smiled, “How’s the school trophy room?”

“I dunno, I don’t actually go on adventures and look for the Room of Requirement. I hang out more at, you know, cafes and stuff.”

Daniel chuckled. “You should come down to the café at Monday. I’ve got new pastries.”

“Vegan?”

“Both.”

She chuckled, finishing her drink. “Okay, I don’t like the taste of vegan egg anyway.”

Sunday, Daniel was up early, he’s done his daily jog, petted three dogs on the way home and made breakfast.

While in the shower he decided to get a sort of gift for the man. A dessert. A cheesecake.

Warren Kepler.

It took Daniel some mental strong will not to look his name up in Google.

From first impressions itself, he could say Mr Kepler had money. It was good money. And he had some kind of good education, private school probably, the way he stood up, almost military.

It’s a ten-minute brisk walk to the café from where he stayed.

He was early, about twelve minutes, and he finds Warren there, looking down at his phone.

Warren was in a more casual outfit than the first Daniel saw him. Slacks and a button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up.

“Hello, Daniel.” Warren greeted as he looked up from his phone.

Daniel handed him the paper bag. “For you.”

Warren took it with a smile, “Thank you. And I’ve got a gift for you too.”

Out of nowhere, Warren took out a bouquet of flowers and gave it to him.

Daniel wasn’t much as pleased with the flowers, though he was thankful, but where did he hide it? It was huge.

“Thanks, buddy.” He said, which made him kick himself mentally. That was the most patronizing thing he’s ever heard himself say.

“You're welcome, Daniel.”

Now his bastard brain is singing ‘You’re Welcome' from Moana, and he’s hoping he can get some time for himself to scream at his own stupidity.

“I’m taking you to this cute restaurant I go with my, uh, roommate.”

Daniel’s trying very hard not to imagine Warren in front the mirror fixing his cufflinks while bantering with a cliched stoner roommate. He hated it, because he knew it wasn’t true. First time in the café, Warren said he had a daughter. Why cover it up with a 'roommate' alibi? Maybe this was a date? Oh god, he hoped this was a date.

Daniel’s great with kids. How old is she? What toys does she like? Does she play video games? Daniel’s lying, he’s not good with children, but he’s good with video games.

They cross the road and walk a bit more, until they're in a parking lot.

Daniel tried very hard not to gawk at the man's purple Lotus Elise. It’s a fucking sports car.

They climb in and Daniel, being the fucking millennial that he is, tried hard against his Insta-gut to grab his phone and take a selfie. Probably post it with a caption 'Daddy got dem rides'. Wait, that’s disgusting. Maybe Warren knows his IG. Fuck.

They get to the high way and they talk a bit more pleasantries.

Getting to the place, Daniel had to sigh in relief.

Thank god it wasn’t a fancy restaurant, which was probably the places Warren go to for three meals.

It was a quaint eclectic restaurant, it looked kinda Bohemian with all the tapestries and mandalas hanging around.

Warren's kid must be, what, in middle to senior high school to like this kind of things, right? The allure of wanderlust and a soulful journey, or whatever younger millennials like these days.

The only wanderlust Daniel ever appreciated was a free party bus ride from his apartment to Coachella.

They’re seated and they order, and Daniel, smiled brightly at the place, not because he was into this shit, but because Warren took him to a place his daughter probably likes. That must mean something, right?

The wait staff gives them their drinks and Daniel asked “So, what do you do, Warren?”

Warren smiled, “I'm somewhere on the corporate ladder.”

Daniel hummed in thought, “How tall is the ladder?”

“Tall enough.”

“Uh-uh. Is this ladder, uh, vertical or horizontal?”

“It’s definitely a vertical ladder, Daniel.”

“How large is the ladder?”

Warren opened his mouth to reply in earnest, until an elderly lesbian couple near them cleared their throat and glared at Daniel. They were good-naturedly laughing at Daniel’s efforts for the innuendos, but Daniel understood the efforts aren’t greatly timed.

Then out of the blue, Warren laughed. Probably, from the couple’s context, he understood. He laughed hard behind his hand, and all Daniel could do was grin in satisfaction at the man.

Because they say that the way to a man's heart is through really offhanded green jokes.

They were in front Daniel's apartment after the date.

“I had a great time.” Daniel told him, feeling the quarter and paper clip in his left and right pockets, respectively.

“I hope I can take you to another fancier place, a more formal date.” Warren chided.

Daniel grinned, “Oh thank god, I thought this was just a thank-you note in the form of socializing.”

“It was, until I started enjoying myself.” Warren chuckled to himself. “If I were to ask, can I take you on a second date?”

“Yes.”

Chapter Text

.

Isabel stared at her friend oddly, ever since he's sat his nice ass down on the seat across from her, he’s been smiling to himself dreamily. Only a creep or someone madly in love does that. Knowing Daniel, it’s definitely the former.

“Life is great.” Daniel commented after a long time of staring at each other, one weirdly, one contently.

Isabel raised an eyebrow, her mug pressed to her lips. “What’s got you so dopey?”

Daniel sat back in his seat with a smug smile. “Isabel, I’ve been to one of the best dates I’ve been to.”

“Even when you had an accidental hook up with that European prince?” She questioned, more to himself, Daniel barely acknowledged it. Isabel scoffed, “Man, what sex club he took you to?”

“It’s a nice restaurant, like, I don’t even wanna stop thinking about it.” He says, folding his hands on the table and placing his head on it.

“The date or the restaurant?”

“Warren.” He breathes it out.

Isabel blinked, was that the name? “The restaurant?”

“His name.”

Isabel nodded to her cup, “What’s Warren's job?” She asked delicately. Daniel had have gone out with shady shady people who seemed like they were from Craigslist than from Tindr.

“Some high position. I never thought to ask.” He told her.

“Dude, asking someone’s job is some first-date topics you ask. If you didn’t ask what he works as, then what did you even talk about?” She questioned.

“Cooking. Coffee. The likes.”

Isabel looked at him quizzically. Those were the typical topics anyone asked when they hang out with Daniel for the first time, Isabel was no exception. “Okay, was it even a date?” Clarification was necessary in Daniel's case.

He moved his head and looked up at her, “It wasn’t at first.”

Isabel pouted, “Danny, you can’t let me ship you two if there’s not a chance in fanfiction heaven you won’t end up together.”

“Ffffff—haha, what?” He said, containing his laughter, making his shoulders shake.

She grinned at him tenderly, “This is what I’ve missed from you, honey.”

He smiled at her as she drank her coffee.

Monday comes and it was an understatement to say that Daniel was disappointed Warren didn’t drop by the café.

“Woah, who ran over your puppy?” Alana asked as she paid for her chocolate mint frappe.

“I had a date.” He told her with a pout.

“Nice.” She commented.

“I was hoping he’d drop by the café this morning.” He added.

Alana scooped the whip cream of her drink and ate it, then replied thickly, “He's def interested. If the dumb romcom law of no contact for 3 days is anything to go by.”

Daniel deflated even more, “I was hoping he wasn’t like that.”

She finished the whip cream, swallowed, then said, “Wanna talk about it?”

He looked at the café, at the patrons, or lack thereof. Lunch rush was an hour ago, so there weren’t really any pressing matters for him to do. No brews to refill or cake to refrigerate. “Don’t you have school, Lana Banana?” He questioned. He noticed she seem to be ever present in the shop, if she was ever absent, he was probably too busy then.

Alana didn’t react to the odd nickname. “I do, but it’s just some Psych class as an elective. It’s just a load of Freud and Jung theories anyway. So, talk?”

Daniel stared at her for a long minute. Is he willing to bargain his trust of confusing to an acquaintance? The only person he talks with about deep stuff is Isabel and right now she’s DC doing a fitting. Usually anyone who wants to talk about the deep stuff should be a level three friend. And to be honest, Alana was probably level one. Then again, Doug had been Daniel’s friend for so long and Daniel would rather talk to Alana, no offense. He loves Doug, but he’d go to him if he needed someone to wonder about the philosophy of Bioshock Infinite and Soma.

He then nodded towards the couch. “Take to the couch. Imma get myself tea.”

Comfy in the couch, they had their feet up on the small Ottoman.

Alana was dissolving the sprinkles in her frappe, while Daniel dissolved the honey in his Berry Mix tea.

“So, what's he like?” She asked him.

“He’s tall.” He told her in earnest.

“He’s tall.” She echoed, that suggestive tone on her voice.

Daniel grinned at her, “Careful, Lana, my being brash is rubbing off on you.”

Alana scoffed, “I've been lingering enough to know you never have luck when you start the espresso machine.”

He snorted, “Hey, that motherfucker has it against me.”

“Never have luck with the espresso machine.” She reiterated. “Anyway, where’d he take you?”

“This awfully cute restaurant outside the city. They have this weird chandelier, but aside from that, it was nice.”

“Ooh, yeah, I know that place. Okay, so did he give you his number?”

Daniel grinned ear to ear, which Alana mirrored lazily, “Yeah, man.”

“What’s his job?”

“Dunno.”

“Did you pay for your own?”

“No, he paid. He came in the café, and he was so hungover that I gave him a hungover remedy.”

“Ugh god. Daniel, please tell me he looked nice?”

“A three piece Tom Ford suit, can you believe?”

“Haha, yeah, I know how ridiculous that is.”

He chuckled, “You wore a Burberry suit, of course you know how much designer clothes cost.”

“I swear that’s the only formal shit I own. I don’t wear dresses for the life of me.”

Alana stare at him, for about a minute, then she sighs.

Daniel caight this. “What’s up?”

“I—did you come out to your family?” She asked in a cautious, yet weary tone.

He turned slowly to her, level two friends know he came out, level three knew who to.

“To my grandparents, yeah?”

She opened her mouth. She had clearly formed in her mind how to ask, but there discomfort and hesitation. Daniel doesn’t necessarily attend Pride parades, but he goes to the private parties. He had never been the, advisor or older gay brother to any one else, but he feels like that’s what Alana's asking of him. “How… how did it go?”

“Well, maybe the fact that I was the favorite gave some leeway of off negativity, so I’d say it was stellar.” He told her honestly. His grandparents were awkward about it at first, then they were fine with it. Even to the point of setting him up with this private investigator they're friends with. How they became friends with a PI was beyond Daniel, they tried it out, but it didn’t work out. He’s a level five friend now. “You planning on coming out to your old man?”

She sighed, “I don’t even share the same last name as him.” She placed the half finished frappe on the side table.

He kept quiet, looking back and forth from his tea to Alana. The silence urged her to continue.

“He’s my stepdad,” she told him, “He's a politician? Er, was a politician? He still holds strong opinions. He’s retained his social relations by being a major shareholder in some clandestine company.”

He hummed. He had been wondering why Alana seem to sound distant from family, and only hint her father. It kinda makes sense, without being to bigoted about it. But her dad being a politician, does she mean he’s super traditional? Too traditional?

“Haven’t hinted on liking the same sex?” He asked softly.

She chuckled darkly, “That’s the thing, I don’t like sex or any sex.”

He paused. What does she mean? Girls think of sex as much as guys do. But she doesn’t, “Oh.” He said when the right word entered his mind. It scares him when Alana is being dropped by outside the shop – either if they walked or the guy had his almost military-grade jeep – by a huge man, all bulging muscles and khaki, Daniel had wondered if were they a thing? No they weren’t a thing, Alana waved farewell to him with a nonchalant wave. There was this one time a girl tried asking for Alana's number, and she smiled and shook her head. Huh.

“Gosh,” She said, noticing the fact that he had been oddly quiet. Too quiet actually. She leaned back as she looked at him with a self-pitying, rueful smile, “I hope you don’t think differently of me.”

“Nah, I don’t. I’ve a friend who’s dating an ace.” Doug’s kinda cohabiting with Alexander? The way they look at each other, people would say they were dating. It’s complicated. I’ll never think differently of you, I mean of course I definitely will with this new bit of information, but that’s just syntax.”

Alana chuckled softly. “Gosh, you’re the first person I’ve told.”

Daniel turned to look at her, surprised. Surely, he’s just a level two friend to her.

“My friends told me, confronted me about being different and they kinda enlightened me.” She told him. “'Dude, you just outright made him do a 360 walk' or 'I heard that girl ran off when you turned her down'. I just ignored it. Probably, I was waiting for the right person, and turns out, I may not need the right person. They gave me an ace pin and," she smiled bitterly that he nearly missed, "itt turns out I actually am.” She sighed, “I just hope my dad has a similar reaction to yours if ever I tell him.” She muttered, drinking her frappe.

Daniel wanted to correct her, that she will tell him. But then, reassurance are just words and reactions are sticks and stones.

.

Chapter Text

.

The rest of the week went on with the casual drop in by Alana, then the sometimes not casual drop in by Isabel, Daniel’s time was spent making orders and making small talk. It was nice.

That was until he ran into Warren. In the grocery store. That constitutes as a second date, right? Probably.

“Hello, Daniel.” The man greeted coolly. As cool as a guy holding three cans of Pepsi and a huge pack of gummy worms.

Daniel himself was holding a can of cat food. He’s not that embarrassing to look at.

Warren gestured to the cat food, “Oh, you’ve got a cat.”

Okay, now he’s embarrassed.

“Oh, uhm, my friend asked me to take care of his cat.” He told him.

“Oh. Ok.”

“You?”

“My uh, roommate needs sugar to function correctly.”

Daniel shouldn’t have giggled, but the fact that he said it like that, like Warren wasn’t high up on the corporate ladder, it made Daniel appreciate him more.

“I haven’t been dropping by yours because of…
adulting.”

“Ah, yes,” he nods in exaggeration, “That's a toughie.”

This time it was Warren's turn to chuckle. They walk towards the self check-out.

“How about you come to my place?” Warren offered. “I’ll cook. You can pick up the wine.”

“I’ll get the wine.” He tells him. When he said he’ll get the wine, he meant he’ll ask Renee to pick him whatever good tasting wine there is.

They set a date and they part ways.

Night comes, and Daniel has Isabel on Skype as he puts icing on some Reese's cupcakes.

“Isabel, you'll never guess who I bumped into in the grocery today.” He told her.

She gave him a tired smile, “Chris Hemsworth.”

He snorted, “I wish. It’s that guy, Warren.”

Her smile widens a fraction, “Ooh, is that Dream Daddy?” (He lowkey regrets letting her play that dating sim.) She reached a manicured finger up to scratch her nose, she seems to be having a bubble bath. “You thirsty hoe, why are you tweeting about him? What'd you two do this time? Buy furniture for your new house together?”

“He’s gonna cook, and I’m suppose to get wine.”

She gave a mock wince, “Ooh, Dan-dan, you know a sip of Henny's all I know.”

“Yeah, gonna ask Renee to help me out.” He takes the tray of cupcakes to his separate work refrigerator. “So how’s your day?”

She sighs, “Tiring. Yanno, after five years of wearing stilettoes as a profession, you’d think you’re immune to its torture.”

“Who’d you shoot for?”

“Teen Vogue, can you believe?”

He laughed, “And how old are you?”

“Old enough to ride a rollercoaster.” She countered.

He huffed and gave out a good-natured roll of his eyes. “Hey that was high school ago, get off my fucking case, Isabel.”

She scoffed, “Hey, I gotta rinse this off, I'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, man.”

“Night.”

“G'night.”

Alana drops by the café with the scary looking man he keeps seeing Alana with. He was scarier upfront than through the store window. When they ordered, Daniel understood the guy was Australian.

“And the lady's having a chocolate mint frappe.” The guy told Daniel after Daniel just scribbled down the guy’s order on a large cup.

Daniel turned to look at Alana. She gave a noncommittal shrug, she was used to the guy’s overbearing presence apparently.

Alana patted the guy’s bicep, “Hey Victor, I'll join you in a bit.”

The guy glanced at Daniel for a second, then
nodded, retreating to a table.

“You know,” Alana started, “you’ve been looking a bit purple, Daniel.”

Daniel breathed out the breath he’d apparently been holding back. “Gosh, fuck, Lana. That guy’s scary as heck. Which elder god did you sacrifice a virgin to to get a guy like that?”

“He’s my thesis partner. He’s uhm, okay, once you get to know him.” The way she said it sounded she was uncertain herself.

The two of them turn to glance at Victor.

Alana turned to Daniel with a large grin, “He gets me into clubs. It’s lit.”

Daniel scoffed, “As long as you’re happy and safe, I ain’t got no beef with him.”

“Dude,” she said, incredulous, “you're salmon sushi compared to him.”

“Hey, I can punch!” He kept silent for a few seconds, then said, “which feels more like a caress, so I can make him feel uncomfortable.”

Alana paid him and went too join Victor.

It was the night of their third date. And to say Daniel had been looking forward to this was an understatement. So while he was taking the elevator up the Urania Skyline Condominiums, he had to have Doug’s broadcast playing live in his headset. Doug knew what’s up so he was playing the kind of songs Daniel liked, and some corny ass jokes Daniel got exasperated to. He just had to repost a stale meme to feel a tad bit better, in which he had replies of mood and lmao same, and the threatening reply from fairy wine mother I sWEAR TO fUCK if you livetweet your date, im demoting you to a fUCKING fLOWER bOY. That was enough to make him put his phone on silent mode.

Then just as he got out of the elevator, he was face to face with a familiar pretty face.

“Daniel?”

“Alana?”

The girl was dressed up in tight black leather pants and a sequin top. She was hugging her huge fur coat, which looked awkward, and in her hands was her purse.

“What are you doing here?” The girl asked.

“I’ve got a hot date.” He told her smugly. “You?”

“Vic and I just finished our defence this morning and were gonna go out to boogie.”

“Oh wow, congrats.”

“Thanks. But my old man threw me out 'cause he said he was gonna have a friend over.”

Daniel gave her a wary look, which she nodded to, “Yeah, nah, it’s alright. He's a grown man, he can do what he likes.”

“If you want, you can come crash at mine if you wanna.” He offered.

She waved him off, “Maybe I'll take you up on that, but maybe not now.”

Daniel moved out of the way to the elevator and
pressed the ground floor button for her.

“Thanks,” she told him, and just as the silver doors slid shut, “good luck on your date.”

“Have fun!” He told her a moment after the doors closed.

He finds Warren's place in five seconds, it takes him five minutes not to run away and cry in his own apartment.

Before he could take a step back, the door opened.

And dear lord, Mr Warren Kepler’s hair was done up nice. And he looked nice in that rich maroon sweater. Daniel will have to sneak a hug attack to feel if it’s cashmere. Fuck, it’s most probably a cashmere.

“Hey!” Warren greets with a wide smile, “Glad you could make it.”

Daniel smiled back, albeit tired, be raised the pretty wine paper bag. It’s all festive and shit, Renee made him get it. “I got the booze.”

“And I got the food, come on in.”

Daniel looked around, seeing the high ceilings of the apartment. “Nice crib.” They go to the kitchen where its only separated by a island counter then it merges to the living space.

“Thanks.” Warren said. “It’s spacious enough.” He commented. “Wanna pop that bottle open?”

“Oh.” To be honest, he doesn’t drink. He'd exchange drinks with his friend Joan when they go out. That reminds him, he should call her sometime. “I rather drink to complement the food.” He confessed.

Warren had opened a drawer then, “Oh, not a heavy drinker?” He inquired, both in surprise and in amusement.

“One sip of Henny is the furthest I can go.” He told him, in earnest.

“No worries, I’ve got a wide array of sodas.” He offered with an understanding smile, going to the refrigerator. “Pick your choice.”

“Pepsi, if you have it.” He told him as he sat by the kitchen island. “All I can take is one glass of alcohol, then I’m beat.”

There was a considerable silence after Warren opened the refrigerator door, as if he was having second thoughts of giving Daniel Pepsi.

Noticing this, Daniel opened his mouth, “If you don’t—”

Warren closed the door and handed him a Pepsi can, “Sorry,” he chuckled, “my, uh, roommate’s apparently had been hiding sweets behind the cans.”

Daniel took a diving glance at the blue can, then delicately asked, “You mean your daughter?”

His eyes opened wide in shock, “How did you… know?”

If there was some kind of redemption arc to happen in this story, Daniel was sure this was it. Warren sounded like he was starting to consider Daniel as this freak who probably stalked him on every single social media on hand. (Don’t get him wrong, Daniel has MK for that.) Okay, here goes. “The first time we met, you told me you had a daughter.”

“Ah, I see.” He said, chuckling despite himself.

Humming, he grabbed the can. “You sure she won’t mind me stealing her last can of Pepsi?”

“No, Daniel. She'll understand.”

Daniel opened the can with a pop.

They settle in companiable silence, until Daniel asked before taking a sip. “So, I know that you hold a high position. But where do you work, man?”

“Goddard Futuristic, I'm the VP.”

It took quite a lot from Daniel not to choke on his drink. “WHAT.”

The older man laughed, “What?” Did he usually tell this to his dates? The nonchalance was terrifying.

He blinked too many times. Each of those blinks just made him consider his life choices. He didn’t do anything too shady, did he? Because Goddard Futuristics is some kind of privatized NASA, and it competes with Apple. “I, hmm, that’s cool.” So forget that Arabian prince or whatever high-ranking hook-up he previously had, he’s practically social climbing at this point. Daniel was sure the man was some partner to a law firm or a huge accountant.

Warren grinned at him, “I see, your phone is a Goddard Futuristic smartphone, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Totally, uh yeah.” He spit under his breath a silent “fuck!” before pleading, “Uhm, please don’t look up my search history?”

“I’d never do that, Daniel. Well, not on a second date anyway.”

Daniel laughed at that.

The rest of the date was spent talking and laughing. Then eatng Warren’s magnificent cooking.

Turns out Warren was kind of vain, which was funny to Daniel. Warren has a complete wine rack – or whiskey rack – it was dedicated entirely for whiskey. In one of the holes was a small plastic bag full of mini M&Ms and mini Reese's.

Warren sighed, “Goshdangit, she knows I don’t usually open up the cabinet.”

Daniel peeked behind him, “Why, what’s up?”

He turned to face Daniel, “I found another hiding spot of hers…”

“Why do you have a lot of sugar stocked up?” Because it was a question that just begged to be answered. Daniel hadn’t noticed any toys lying around or pictures. (The fact that there weren’t pictures on the walls or the side tables was kind of questionable. If Warren does have a kid – not that Daniel is doubting that vital piece of evidence on his identity – Warren should be proud of his kid, right? You know what, it’s probably the kid. The kid is most likely in her teens and she decidedly hid all their photos together, so she doesn’t feel like she’s cockblocking her dad? Good on you kid, but Daniel’s had a strict ‘no fourth base unless they were on their third date’.)

“I don’t know how, but she’s probably used it as a defense mechanism.” Warren said, closing his whiskey cabinet. “Back in her grandparents’, she’d cry so loud and she’s bribed with so much sweets she didn’t outgrow it.” He breathed out, a content smile on his face, “She doesn’t binge on it. She’s an intelligent kid.”

Alana was in the couch, her laptop balanced on the armrest, while she takes a sip of her chocomint frappe.

The group of hipster high school girls just exited with their pumpkin spice lattes and talking about MUAs.

“Lana, don’t you have school or something?” Daniel questioned after having a phone break, texting a friend.

“Yeah.” She replied. Alana was those weird kind of people who don’t usually listen to music while in public, she said white noise helps.

“Not now?” He asked.

“Now.” She replied ambiguously.

Daniel diverted his gaze, unable to come up of anything else to say. He wonders if she’s also those kind of people who’s too cool for school. That is to say, she’s probably got high on that, uh Turing test? The test where they see how much of a genius you really are? Yeah, it’s probably the Turing test.

She stopped her almost piano-playing on her laptop and turned around to look at him, “Dude, you’re a cool guy.” She started

He nodded, “That is correct.” Without a question, he himself would pass the Cool Individuals Test.

“See, I’m thinking of throwing a party,” she told him, “wanna come? My dad’s gone for the weekend.”

“Of course, Alana.” He wondered if anyone he knows will be coming. Then again he probably knows most of the people without really knowing who’s going.

His phone dinged twice. He saw the confirmation from his friend and sees a simple Do you like chocolates?. Grinning like the lovesick fool he is, he replied I love chocolates.

.

Chapter Text

The Lunch Rush was simmering down to a slow café ambience. Daniel should really get to having another help around here.

Doug came to his rescue when he and Alexander came for lunch. When Doug saw how overwhelmed Daniel looked, Doug grabbed his spare apron and helped him. When Doug went around the counter, time almost stopped. Well, the crowd stopped in reverie. Who wouldn’t stop and watch in awe? Wolf 359 FM's primetime host was taking their order and serving it to them.

Usually people would believe Doug to be this incompetent manchild. But he is the complete opposite. He could cook anything, given sufficient ingredients. Maybe it was because of Blue Apron, maybe he was born with it, maybe it was Maybelline.

As thanks, Daniel let him have a week’s worth of coffee by making a stub out of sticky notes.

“A coffee a day won’t cut it for me, man.” Doug told him, as Daniel handed him the sticky note.

Alexander chuckled behind them and commented, drily, “I know this first hand, Douglas drinks it as if he’s a vampire and caffeine is blood.”

So with a promise of almost fifteen cups for the next week, Doug and Alexander went their merry way to Barnes & Noble.

He was wiping down the counter, two hours to closing time.

“Hey, Daniel.” An awfully familiar voice greeted. His voice was as tired as Daniel felt for that day.

Daniel turned around and saw it was Juno Steel. That PI his grandparents set him up with that one time.

He was the very epitome of 'I woke up like this' in both positive and negative light. He looked like he missed sleep for weeks, but he still looked like the pretty lady that he was.

Daniel grinned, “Oh hey, you! It’s been awhile.”

Juno didn’t look him in the eyes as he mumbled, “You got time?”

“Always got time for you, Juno.” Daniel told him, in earnest.

With coffee and tea for them, Daniel started the conversation. It has been too long, how many months of radio silence, they broke off in good spirits, and Daniel won’t have it any other way. Juno was one of those people he formed a good soulful attachment to, but they were better off as friends than lovers. Don’t get him wrong, sex was spectacular, but…

“How are you?”

Juno heaved, fingers trembling as he slotted them around the coffee mug. “I ran away again.”

Daniel reached across the table, and put a comforting hand on Juno's. “Oh Juno.”

“I do love him, so so much. I-I don’t know why he’s putting up with me, I mean, he’s been so patient and kind. I don’t…”

“Mm hm?”

“It’s like, when it gets too much, I can’t—it just gets too overbearing, it gets suffocating too fast.”

Almost immediately after their break up, Juno met an art curator. A man with scarily perfect teeth, Peter Nureyev. They hit it off right away. After a month of dating, Peter left Juno, but only because he was running away from the Russian mafia. He wasn’t just an art curator but a black market arts dealer.

One time, Daniel asked Peter if he’s seen Salvador Mundi as it was just recently recovered. Peter just winked at him, and a week later said painting was missing again.

“Do you want to crash over at mine?” Daniel offered.

Juno shook his head, “I'm at Mick's right now.”

Daniel was pleasantly surprised, “Mick Mercury? How’s he doing?”

Juno smiled at that, “He’s doing good, er, better than last time you heard of him.”

Daniel finished his tea while Juno slapped a stack of greeting cards on the table. “The hell is this?” Daniel questioned.

Juno chuckled, “Two years-worth of holiday greetings. I separated Hanukkah and Christmas, because I remembered.”

Daniel laughed at that. More inside jokes. He took one out, his birthday card for last year. He opened it and found a crisp 1,000 yen.

“I was on a case in Osaka. Some yakuza shit the Kanegawa's were in.”

“I could see that.” Daniel commented, looking at the beautiful Japanese watercolor landscape art.

Juno stood up, “It'll probably be a bit before I see you again. Remember that journalist? Nic Silver?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm following some leads for his story.”

With a hug, Juno left the café.

An hour before closing time, Daniel was sitting behind the counter when Peter himself entered the café, looking around for Juno.

“Speak of the devil!” Daniel greeted.

To be honest, Daniel didn’t have the chakra to have two heart-to-hearts in one day.

Peter gave a weak smile at Daniel, “Did he--"

“He loves you very much, you know.” Daniel told him.

He smiled, albeit tiredly, “I know.”

“Word of advice, just ask him to talk. I know snark and sex is Juno's language, but if you ask nice enough, he’ll talk.”

“Is this because you two used to date?”

Daniel pulled a face, “Nah, we decided being each other’s therapists was better. I'm rooting for you two, I ship you.”

Peter laughed, “Calm down, Mr Fangirl.”

Daniel grinned and waved bye as the man left.

Daniel was picked up in front the café in a sleek convertible. It was too dark to see what color it was.

“You're Alana's friend? Daniel?” Asked the girl in a leather crop top, she was in the passenger's side. The driver was Alana's thesis partner.

“Yeah?”

“I'm Eris, get in loser.”

He jumped in, because they just stayed there for one awkward moment, and there wasn’t an actual door to go through. He didn’t know convertible car etiquette.

They were in the highway traffic when Eris turned around to look at him with a sly grin, “Let’s get this party started, huh?” She gives him what looks like a Listerine bottle cup and consequently blue Listerine.

Without thinking too much about it, as it was just one small sippy cup, he downed it. He wasn’t sober enough to put two and two together to see that he was being taken to Urania Skyline Condos, to a certain floor where the elevator doors opened to Alana the other day, and to a certain door opened by Warren that same day.

He was, for sure, high. The flashing neon laser lights, there was a couple banging in the corner.

He doesn’t remember how he got to Alana's place but he’s there.

Alana tried opening a beer bottle but sprayed it on the makeshift dance floor. Daniel nearly slid as he grinded on Alana's thesis partner.

He remembered going to the bathroom to puke his lunch and screaming at the walls when it started bleeding.

It was the worst party Daniel had ever been to, and it was good he wouldn’t remember any of it.

Chapter Text

Waking up with a hangover from a party he’ll never remember, Daniel dragged himself up his feet and found himself in his own bed.

His head felt light, a product of the designer drug he barely knows the name to.

Then the unholy ringing off his phone made him wince in pain.

He swiped answer and mumbled, “What the shit?”

”You sound awful,” the woman on the other end of the line stated, ”I’m guessing you’ll have a raincheck?”

Daniel groaned, reached up his face to scratch his chin. “Joanna, I'm sorry.” He mock-cried.

Joan chuckled, “How about this, I come over and cook us brunch?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I just kicked my brother out so he could go out and take some pictures of dogs in the park.”

Daniel moaned discomfort as he felt a squished red cup in the pouch of his hoodie. “Isn’t that cute.” He stood up, “A'ight, I'll sober up. You come over and we'll do grocery.”

In ten minutes, Daniel was fresh out the shower. In twenty, Joan was there. And then they in the farmer’s market near Daniel's apartment.

“…wouldn’t your patient be borderline narcisstic?” Daniel suggested, opening the bag for Joan to put in green and red bell peppers.

“Mx Patient could definitely be. Or they could be in the spectrum of psychopathic, schizotypal or…” she drops the rest of the vegetables she’s holding in the bag and makes a Batman mask with her hands, “Apophenia!”

The sound that exited Daniel’s throat sounded like a dying bear. “What the fuck, Joanna!”

Joan nodded, laughing. “Did you know, as a birthday present, I got him a shirt that read 'Y'all need apophenia' across the chest.”

“Okay, one, mood, two, I wish that was on my graduation cap, and three, I don’t even think Strand wears t-shirts?”

Joan smiled at him slyly.

Daniel looked at her as if she’s lost her mind, “He did fucking not.”

“He fucking did.”

“What?!” He screeched.

She brought out her phone, “The journalist he’s dating, uh Alex Reagan? She caught him wearing it and took a picture and sent it to me.” She unlocked her phone, “I know it’s weird but it was my wallpaper for a week until Mark saw it.”

Daniel giggled as he saw it, “Dude, the fact that you have the guts to do it is legendary.”

“It would have been rad if I was there when he opened it. When he did, he called and said he was a little bit amused and no bit offended.”

“Oh my god, Joanna.”

“And Alex told me that I was her hero.”

“You're probably everyone’s hero.”

They get to Daniel’s apartment and they started on brunch.

“So you got a sugar daddy now?” Joan asked.

“Why, want me to hook you up?” He chided.

She pulled a face, “No, cause. I’ve been seeing your posts lately and… I'm concerned. All these daddy references are different from the usual tweets. If you’re low on resources--"

“Wait, is that why people…”

“My company could use your talents, you know.”

“And work in the HR? You know I’m not cut for the deskjob type.”

“Daniel, you were my youngest classmate. You could have potential, if you just —”

“Joan, I really don’t wanna talk about this.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The rest of their brunch was spent in shallow conversation and awkward silence.

Daniel loves and respects Joan as his friend and supposed colleague, and he likes the professional discussion they have, but...

“You had Joan over? And you didn’t invite me?” Isabel whispered harshly into the phone. “Bitch, the fuck?”

“It’s been a while since I hung out with her.” He told her lamely.

Isabel hummed in agreement, then asked, “Are you okay?”

“I'm okay.”

“No, I meant, are you okay-okay?” She asked, genuine. “With your… background?”

“Is it those daddy tweets? People keep asking if the café’s in trouble and shit.”

“Hey, you wanna hang out?”

“Sure.”

“I’m back from Seattle.”

“Coolio.” There was a knock on the door.

“And open the door, I got pizza.”

Daniel walked to it tiredly and opened the door for her. “Oh hey, partay.”

Isabel came in with a large pizza box.

They talked about Isabel's hook-up in Seattle, a hot woman by the name of MK. And that was all the woman let on and Isabel was fine with it. It’s not like it’s a complete lost as Isabel had gained a quote-unquote contact in Seattle.

“How about you, disaster gay? Why’d you stop? Why are you neglecting your professional contacts?” She asked, Two large slices of pizza and a beer in.

“I don’t neglect Joan. I just had lunch with her.” Maybe he should check up on Richard too, they weren’t particularly close but he was a cool guy to hang with… when Cora Lee was still around.

“Daniel.” Isabel reprimanded.

He huffed, “I respect and support Joan, very much.”

She raised a brow, “But?”

He gave her a resigned glare, then replied in annoyance. “Listening to people’s problems and having them pay me is not my cup of tea, Isabel.”

“But working at a café does?” She derided.

“I mean, if I wanna listen as their friend, I want to be their friend.” It was easy as that. He does accept that his graduate course was all for naught, but it was his burden to bear not other people. “Joan and my disagreement of how to suggest resolution for people’s problems has always been the problem. And that’s the only problem we have of each other.”

They settle in thick silence, Isabel drinks the rest of her second bottle. “I don’t feel like that’s the only problem.” She confessed.

“Well, okay, Probably the fact that she has to bring up my 'wasted potential' is just chickenfuck.”

“Well, why didn’t you finish your PhD? Why did you let yourself work as a coffee-server? Is it because of academic stress?” Everyone asks this, he’s actually fed up with saying his excuses. So a 30-something is taking up an occupation even high school students are capable of doing for their summer vacation. But its his own shit, people should really let him be.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it.

“Fine,” she says with a resigned sigh, “I’ll just say it was a quarter-life crisis or something.”

Chapter Text

Daniel was just having the worst week. A cute guy smiled his way into shortchanging him, and Daniel let him. Fuck.

He was throwing away the receipt a genderfluid person didn’t get when another person came up the cashier. “May I take your order?”

“Can I get dinner with you?”

Daniel raised his head in surprise, “Wha--"

There and then was Warren, all sheepish smiles and a black paper bag in his hand. “Hello, Daniel.”

“Oh my gosh! Hey! Hi, how was your trip?” Daniel peeked over his shoulder to see if there were any customers lining u behind him. None. Okay, he could take his time with Warren.

Warren handed him the paper bag. Daniel wanted to make an off-handed joke of receiving gifts when he just received his birthday gift from his ex. But it wasn’t fair to Warren, so he didn’t.

“I’ve missed you.” The older man stated, to which Daniel replied with a knowing smile. “so, I was hoping, an early dinner?”

“Of course, man!”

“When are you free?”

“I’m free whenever.” He may or may not have promised to hang out with Doug and Alexander, but they’ll understand.

“Tonight then.”

Third date and Daniel couldn’t wait for the day to end. He could always close the café earlier.

His phone rang, a new message from Warren. The fact that he had to do his passcode multiple times due to excitement was funny – sad, but funny. When he finally got it, he read it twice because the first one was out of the excitement, the second for luck.

’Can you come over the office? I’ll let front desk know.'

He replied with a sweet and simple. 'ofc'

Goddard Futuristics was as much of a skyscraper as Warren's condominium building. All clean lines and contemporary furniture. There were so many glass panels they probably discourage using electrical lights and use natural sunlight instead.

He gets to the front desk and a guy takes him up the executive elevator. He leaves Daniel in Warren's office and disappeared.

Then the glass doors opened when Daniel had barely sat down.

“Ho-oooooly shit, you actually came.”

Daniel could only gawked as this pretty blonde in corporate fashion approached him with a grin. She was one less hairflip to being Barbie herself. This was Rachel Young. The postergirl of Goddard was smiling at him, and he doesn’t know if he should feel blessed

“You're Donnell.” She stated.

Bitch what. “Daniel.” He’s had people accidentally call him Jacob, but Donnell is the cherry on top the incredulity cake, and he doesn’t really like cherry.

“Yeah.” She said as if she had corrected herself. “You see my colleague has been talking nonstop about you, and I just had to have a peek of you myself.” Now they were face to face. It was frightening and amazing to think that the guy Daniel was dating called Rachel Young as his colleague. Rachel Young was a young journalist turned junior executive. Her story was the Cinderella story of thee business world. Power and brains had never looked so intimidating in a five foot four woman. “Wow, where did Warren find a pretty little thing like you?”

Ms Young wasn’t exactly Daniel's cup of tea, but he warmed up to her easily. In five minutes they were lounged in the leather loveseat in front Warren's desk.

About half an hour had passed that Daniel barely felt. He was too occupied chatting with Ms Young that he barely registered Warren entering his own office.

“Daniel, you’re here?”

“Uh yeah, you texted me—" Warren's tone just made it known how surprised he was to see Daniel. Oh shit. “Oh god, you weren’t expecting me, were you?” He inquired, daunted.

Rachel raised her hand, as if she just volunteered to a school project. “I may have deceived the people in this particular room.”

And this smug bitch still had a smile on her face.

Warren was visibly glaring at her.

“Oh pfft,” Ms Young said, waving her hand dismissively. “I gave you a reason to bail out of work earlier than usual.”

Daniel turned to look at Warren.

Warren nodded, “Yes, thank you Ms Young. If you would please?”

Ms Young grinned widely at Daniel and winked, “Ta ta! Have fun you two.” then left.

From beside Daniel, Warren let out a puff of breath. “She scares the shit out of me.” He confessed.

Daniel burst out laughing, “The great Warren Kepler is afraid of someone.” He said.

Warren chuckled, “Everyone’s afraid of something.”

“Welp, yeah.” Daniel said, resigned, “Bees, the dark, heights.”

Warren leaves his side and goes to his desk, “Rachel is the devil’s daughter, she’s nothing compared to my boss.” He sighed when he found out his desk-safe was tampered with. Rachel's doing. His suspicions were proven correct when he saw that Rachel had taken a selfie. He deleted it only to see another where she and Mr Cutter took one together.

“The President of Goddard?” Daniel clarified, taking his seat again on the loveseat in front the desk.

“Yeah, Mr Cutter is really the most terrifying man I’ve ever had the chance of being in contact with.” He looked up and saw the soft sly smile on Daniel’s face, he couldn’t help but mirror with a confused grin. “What?”

Daniel shrugged, “It’s just good to know the dude I'm dating is actually human.”

“I'm as human as the next guy, Mr Jacobi.” He chided. Then paused when he saw how flustered Daniel looked.

Daniel felt underdressed. He should have known sooner or later Warren was going to take him to a fancy ass restaurant. A heads up would’ve been nice.

It’s not that it was his first time in fancy restaurants, heck he’d actually helped plan dinners with Renee. But wearing a Balenciaga white hoodie and Converse was not even his outfit when he planned those dinners.

“I feel like a wannabe hipster. A thirtysomething wannabe hipster.” He confessed as he and Warren were lead to a table. He should probably unroll the edges of his pants. Cover his ankles, ankles are offensive right? Maybe not in this time and age.

“You're fine, Daniel.” Warren told him, raising a hand to give him an assuring side-hug. Then the following act is what shocked Daniel next. Warren kissed the top of his head. “You're perfect.”

Then and there, Daniel wanted to put on his hood, curl into a ball, and roll out of there. He didn’t care, because he was sure Warren would follow him out the restaurant.

Warren pulled the seat open for him and Daniel was too starstruck to say ‘thank you'

Warren ordered for both of them and Daniel was gaining back his bearings to exchange pleasantries with him.

“Daniel, anything wrong?”

He had been fiddling with the stem of his wineglass, then looked at Warren straight in the eyes. “Warren, are we dating?”

The older man was taken in surprise, “Uhm, yes?”

He chuckled, “No, I meant, is it safe to assume to call you my boyfriend?”

Warren gave a warm laugh, “Well, I’ve deemed you my boyfriend whenever my daughter asks, so…”

“Holy shit, we’re boyfriends.” Daniel said in disbelief.

“Well, boyfriend,” Warren said in that playful way that was meant to make Daniel flush. “Would you like to join me in my home to continue this conversation?”

Daniel, still red as the wine they were drinking, nodded.

Chapter Text

.

Going to Warren's place felt like he was going there for the first time.

Warren was pouring them wine.

Suddenly, as if he was a school girl with a crush, he was shy. Why? Why now? He was Daniel fucking Jacobi, he’s done weirder shit for Renee or because he was more than drunk and high.

“How was your day, Daniel?” Warren asked as he handed Daniel his wine glass.

Daniel rather watched how Warren’s knuckles seem to look sculpted around the stem of the wine glass. How perfect it looked. The exact portait of elegance and sophistication. Maybe it was due to the fact Warren was just perfect. No, he is absolutely perfect.

Oh gosh, he’s starting to sound very much like Doug’s older cousin when he gushes about his husband.

“Daniel?”

“It was fine. Just the usual hiccup, which is minimal, so no hiccup at all.”

Warren chuckled, then took a sip.

Whatever joke there was, Daniel completely missed it. He’s to scared to ask if Warren was laughing at him (he wasn’t) and that probably meant that he finally realized how inferior Daniel was compared to him. Daniel was a misfit in his life, what, with Warren’s high paying job, his high rise apartment, his beautiful daughter and his A-lister friends.

“How about you?” Daniel asked, swirling the wine glass, “How’s work?”

Warren heaved. A heave that Daniel did not know a man like Warren knew how to do. It sounded exhausted and exasperated, and Daniel was suddenly concerned.

Warren smiled at him. “To be honest, it had been a terrible week, Mr Jacobi.”

Daniel put down the wine glass and wore his hoodie to hide his face. “You can’t do that!” He almost yelled, but thank God it was muffled.

“Can’t do what, Daniel?”

He heard Warren move and now he could sense the man was sitting beside him on the couch. And he immediately pulled his hoodie down, hands like iron grips.

“That.” He faced the general direction of where Warren could be, but he still refused to show his face. “You can’t expect me to hear you call me 'Mr Jacobi' and not feel all fluffy inside.”

Warren holds his wrist and pulls it down to, Daniel’s other hand could only drop down to his own lap. Then, they were face to face like Daniel couldn’t believe.

If over riped tomato was a Jeffree Star eyeshadow palette, it was on Daniel’s skin now.

“Daniel.”

“Yes?"

"May I kiss you?”

“Oh my god, yes.”

It felt unfair. How a kiss felt like it was the start or the end of tragedy. Because it felt like it could last forever.

And Daniel’s bastard brain was all about thinking how Warren’s daughter could barge in from a night out with friends and she finds out her dad is kissing someone still wearing a hoodie.

But none of that, because he felt Warren pull his hoodie off and run his fingers at the back of his hair, gently tugging at short locks on his nape. He could taste the wine on Warren’s tongue, earthy and bitter and sweet.

Then he feels the man’s palm on his neck, thumb grazzing his Adam’s apple. Daniel couldn’t help but moan into Warren’s mouth, and the man smiled in response.

Thumb was now on his bottom lip. Warren pulled away and smirked at Daniel who was all dilated pupils and flushed cheeks.

“Bedroom?” Warren offered.

“I have to pee first.”

Warren chuckled, nodded, “Alright.”

.

Content, Daniel hummed in thought as he ran a hand through Warren's hair.

The man sighed, taking his hand, pulled it to his mouth and kissed his wrist.

Daniel felt the cool metal of Warren’s wedding ring on his skin. He starts to wonder if Warren’s partner was as elated as he was if they were in the same situation. Now, that’s just odd. Daniel should really stop thinking too much.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Warren asked.

He sat up, and leaned back on the headrest of the bed and looked out the glass panel window, the cityscape was just breathtaking in the night. “Tell me a secret.” Daniel mumbled, unconsciously wondering if he could see his own apartment from here. “I’ll start. I think I'm in love with you.

Warren chuckled, thumb rubbing circles on the younger man’s wrist. “Then I'll tell you something not so secret. I'm in love with you.”

Daniel grinned, leaning down and granted the older man a kiss. “What will your daughter say about you having a boyfriend?”

“She'll be fine.” Warren assured him.

Daniel reached for his phone and saw that it was 2 AM. Estimating how much time it would take to go to his apartment to shower and change and go to the café, he knew he still has about enough time to get a long enough nap before he would find friend-customers (customers who are his friends who also don the title 'customer') texting and calling him if he was okay.

“What time do you wake up in a work day?” He asked, lying back down on the bed.

Pulling the covers over him, Warren hummed, nuzzling at the crook of Daniel’s neck and breathed, “Today’s a day off.” He mumbled, his breath tingling Daniel’s bare flesh.

Daniel smiled to himself and closed his eyes. He doesn’t know how but he was asleep again.

Or napping.

Because when he woke up an hour later, he’s had a strong sense of urgency to grab his clothes and shoes and go. His phone was dead, so any form of concerns from anyone was left unread. It will be fine.

He wanted to leave Warren a cute note of 'ily, ill txt u later ;)', but he didn’t exactly have time to rummage around for a pen and paper. He had a job. And that job was to supply the. Working class their morning fuel.

Wearing his hoodie, pants, and socks, he couldn’t even glance back fondly at Warren as he crept out the room.

He was out the hallway, holding his shoes by its laces, when he heard the undeniable sound of whisk on batter.

Then just as he was passing to the small hall to the main door, a voice which was too familiar echoed, “Hey, dad. I made too much pancakes.”

Daniel didn’t know if he froze for too long or she was the Flash, but she was behind him and staring at him in equal confusion and then shock.

“Daniel?”

“Daniel? Alana?”

And Warren joined their awkward scene.

And for the first time in Daniel’s life, he couldn’t think straight.

“'Lana, I'm fucking your dad.”

.

Chapter Text

.

Isabel chocked on her waffle cone.

“What? What?” She sounded more like she was having an asthma attack the way she was trying so hard to stifle her laugh. “You told your, what, your underage best friend that you're in a relationship with her dad. Her dad, Daniel. Gosh dang it. You're more disaster gay than I give credit for.”

Daniel frowned, “You shut your beautiful face, Isabel. Or I'm gonna poison you one of these days.”

Isabel raised her hands in defeat. She took a sip of her drink. “But seriously though, weren’t there any picture frames hanging around? Or a selfie of them together?”

“None, whatsoever.”

“How ‘bout their last name, Dan?”

“They don’t even share the same last name.”

“Do you, perhaps have any unnecessarily sweet drinks?” The man asked, an amicable smile on his face.

Daniel wasn’t paying much attention, “Not as sweet as you, honey.” He muttered, but loud enough for the man to hear. “I’ve got a Chai latte I can put as much honey in it as you like.”

“Yes, please.” The man said, rather sweetly-sick.

“That'd be XX.”

The man was rummaging in his manpurse, when he asked “How much would you like your tip to be?” The man asked.

“Enough to pay the rent, I guess.” Daniel said, noncommittal.

The man paid for his tea then stuffed what looked to be his receipt in Daniel’s tip jar.

“Thanks!” The man stated before leaving.

Daniel heaved as he reached over the jar to take the receipt out. It’s been awhile since he’s got something stupid stuffed in his tip jar.

When he took out the paper, he saw that it was a cheque.

“A cheque for a hundred dollars, haven’t I heard of something like this before?” Doug bemused as he inspected the paper for himself.

Doug had come back from his trip to Switzerland, he was asked to host the Swiss Beatbox Association. He could’ve come back in three days, but they liked him too much that they asked him to stay a few more nights to party.

Doug had come by the café to give Daniel his souvenir, a French press that looked like a cat.

Daniel was thankful of course, but he’s noticed that whenever Doug gets him a souvenir, it’s mostly cat themed. He was sure Doug won’t notice, if he rewrapped those souvenirs and gave it to Doug for Christmas.

“A guy gave me a hundred just last month, and I'm kinda dating him now. And Alana gave me the rest of the 50 for her chocolate mint frappe and she’s now my best friend.” The thought passed him before he could really process his words.

Shit, it’s been three days since either of them came by the shop or texted him. He felt guilty somehow, he knew he didn’t put two plus two together to know they were actually the very ‘Warren’s daughter' and 'Alana's dad' they talk about. Was it because he only wanted to see what he wanted? Or because he was plain stupid? Both. He’s both.

“Now this guy—”

“Maybe they're like a huge rich family and they’re gonna buy the café off of you.” Doug offered, lightheartedly. Oh right, he’s not as informed of Daniel’s love life. Isabel is such a good friend (well of course except that one time with the breakup with David).

Daniel’s scoffed “Fuck, no, Doug. No one’s buying the café from me.”

Doug shrugged and drank his coffee,

“Anyway, how was your thing?”

They spend half an hour browsing through Doug's Instagram and the videos he got.

“So why isn’t Dr Hilbert with you?” Daniel inquired, having come back to refill Doug’s mug.

“I'm meeting up with my cousin. You know from the late AM station? They’re gonna have a grand wedding and I’m supposedly helping?” He shrugged. “Like last night he asked me if he should go for ivory white or china white, and I’m in the bathroom crying because I don’t even know the difference.”

Daniel laughed. “It’s Cecil, right?”

“Yup.”

“When’s their wedding?”

“Right about after Renee's.”

Daniel chuckled, “Well, aren’t you heavy-scheduled.”

As if on queue, Cecil Palmer came in the shop. He exchanged pleasantries with Daniel while ordering himself an Americano. Daniel confessed to the older man that he hasn’t been tuning in on Night Vale.

“Hey Daniel.” Cecil said.

“Yes?” He asked, facing him after wiping the espresso machine twice.

“You should come, to my wedding I mean. You could meet a nice boy.” Cecil said with an amicable smile.

Daniel couldn’t help but smile back. There was something about Doug’s and Cecil's auras that made it easy to trust them. They could be serial murderers and Daniel wouldn’t be the wiser.

“Nah, I’m already dating someone.”

“Oh!” The older radio host said, pleasantly surprised. “Bring him then. It’d be nice to meet new people.”

Cecil bid him goodbye and walked towards the exit, but Doug looked at Daniel in disbelief, mouthing 'Dating someone?'

Daniel grinned unabashedly, waving goodbye then gestured 'I'll call you later.'

In hindsight, he really was kind of thankful neither Alana nor Warren came by the café that week.

It could mean they were figuring stuff out, or they were in cold war. But Daniel was hoping for the better.

And in the other hand, Daniel had time to weigh how stupid he was.

He needed someone to talk to. Not about the situation, but about anything. Just to get his mind off of it.

Renee has her theater thing going And Doug was busy helping Cecil. Isabel, to be honest, he doesn’t know where Isabel is.

“Hey, this is Isabel Lovelace. I’m probably out of town or I got abducted by aliens. If not, I probably went on a spiritual pilgrimage, I don’t know. Leave a message.”

He huffed before the beep sounded, then said, “Hey, where the hell are you? Call me back.”

“You know, I’m really tired of Dr Urvidian passing jokes about my forehead or being so young.” Ryan said as he handed Daniel a studded leather jacket.

Daniel looked at it first before taking it hesitantly. It was kind of ominous to see Ryan Dalias own more than one not-normal leather jacket.

Ryan called him just after Daniel sent the voice message to Isabel's phone. The surgeon had asked for his wingman capabilities.

Daniel, for the sake of fun and distractions, said yes. Now he was at Ryan’s apartment, helping him choose what to wear.

“I swear, this past two months must have been rough, dude.” Daniel told him, donning his very gothic attire as per request of Ryan. “You’re, what, a biker?”

“I went to this bar last week and I saw a girl wearing what I could only say as a Blood nurse for a Resident Evil advent calendar.” Ryan told him while readjusting his belt buckle for the umpteenth time.

“Are you telling me you’re thinking of wearing a nurse outfit?” Daniel questioned incredulously. “It’s like I don’t even know you, Ryan.”

The surgeon poked his tongue out at him, “Okay, how do I look?”

“A really really,” Ryan was lighting up, “desperate bachelor.” Daniel laughed at the disappointed look on his face. “No, seriously, who is this girl? It’s weird if it’s the bartender.”

“A drummer.”

“Little drummer girl.”

“A guy.”

“Parum pam pam pam, Ryan. A little drummer boy? You sure you’re not looking for a sugar baby?”

Ryan glared at him. “He’s not a twink, Danny.”

“Oh shit!” Daniel said, grinning. “You’re into bara type? Fuck! You’re the twink!”

Daniel had to run out the room before Ryan decided to kick him. fifteen minutes later, they were in a goth club.

.

Chapter Text

It was a goth club.

No, not just a coven of darkness, pentagrams and candles. They had themes. Tonight was cyber noir.

When Ryan said that he saw a Blood Nurse that one time, Daniel saw three, and two what he could say was neon Harajuku girls.

These weren't high school girls with mediocre costumes, with bobby pins sticking out out of haste. They did this professionally. 

"Hey, aren't you that barista that works at that coffee shop?"

Daniel smiled at the bartender, that customer service smile he puts up to coax customers into dropping a dollar or more in his tip jar. "Yup." He said with a wink and grabs the two bottles and sauntered off.

Ryan returned to sit on the table, beside Daniel.

There was a band playing and from where Daniel and Ryan were at, they had a clear view of the band's drummer.

"The Silent Storm?" Daniel questioned, reading the stenciled print on the bass drum.

"Shut up." Ryan told him.

After the band's first set, the drummer made a beeline towards Ryan like a man on a mission. 

"Doc!"

Daniel knew for sure Dr Ryan Dalias was as pink as his hair midterm of their first year of postgrad.

"Uhm, Akmazian, right?"

Akmazian look at him, awed that Ryan knew his name. "Akmazian is my stage name."

"O-oh."

"The cute ones call me Ben." He flourishes with a wink at Ryan.

Daniel had the most brightest knowing look that even rivaled the neon lights in the club. Ryan the guy who always successfully transplants hearts wears his on a sleeve. Daniel attests to that as Ryan had tried dating him, but they were better off as friends. And they knew that their postgrad classmates were as entertained by drama as reality TV show producers.

Ryan was less of a mess to handle with -not to compare them both -- compared to Juno. Ryan gives meaning to 'high as a kite' when he is high.

But when it comes to the matter of friendship and wingpersonery, they had each other's back. Well more of Daniel than Ryan as Ryan had tried to ask a tall potted fern its cell number for Daniel.

"You must be the drummer boy Ry-ry keeps talking about!" Daniel said when he noticed the guy glanced oddly at him. 

"And you are?"

"His wingguy, but I see he has no more use of me." 

"Wait, you seem familiar." Akmazian said as he turned to bodily face Daniel.

"It's either in the sheets or at the other side of the cash register."

"Where do you work?"

"A coffee shop downtown." Daniel said, dismissively.

"Oh! Yeah! Dane, right?"

"Daniel. Dane works at the zoo." He glanced at Ryan then back at akmazian, "Hey, so, Imma leave my best friend in your capable hands. And I'm gonna see how many free drinks I can score."

Akmazian laughed, "You can put it on my tab, Daniel."

Daniel looked at Ryan faux-touched, "Ry-ry, if you don't marry him, I will."

Ryan sputtered on about how ridiculous that sounded, but his muttering was drowned out by Akmazian's laugh.

There's something funky about raves. The space-time in any raves or club could be explained like cling wrap: you were suppose to just cover your 4x4 inch Tupperware and the wrap looks more like a cuttlefish than anything you could cover food with and you swear you rolled out enough to cover your entire refrigerator.

What that anecdote was for the fact that Daniel had received a text from Ryan.

From: Ry-ry
Found a ride home, thanks

To: Ry-ry
Mmmmhmmmmm 👀👀

From: Ry-ry
Shut up

It was kinda sad that he had to go home alone from a goth club. Well of course he could get an Uber but his MySpace days was crying through non-waterproof eyeliner. 

He passed by the cafe and smiled tiredly at the sign board outside. 

"Shit, I forgot to take it inside." He said out loud. 

He approached it as if it was a chicken tryingto run away: knees bent, arms open, looking like a dumbass.

And then he sees a sticky note on it.

"If this is an eviction notice, they're really lessening their carbon footprint." He mused.

It read: 'Im sorry' 

He screamed, throwing the note down, running the entire two blocks, went up his apartment, and locked himself in his closet.

Someone was out to get him again.