Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a day like any other. Come in early, leave late, slog through the homework that continued to pile and pile up on you. But that was before the robbery.
You had been mopping the floors, tucked safely in the back, when the shots rang out. So you hadn’t seen much, just the flash of a face, eyes wide and almost as scared as you were in that moment, lips peeled back in a grin. And a hand flopping onto the floor, red dusting the the ground beneath it.
Two hours passed, alone while you sat in your uniform, before the police contacted you. You had been shaken, mouth barely forming words as they hit you with question upon question upon question. Until you locked eyes with him.
The man was only an inch or two taller than you, not like the giant of a man you had seen besides him. He had a bit of a grin on his face, despite the proceedings, and that was enough for him to sour on you immediately.
“So, Uhh, kid.” The man gestured at you with his pen, green eyes glinting. ”See anything?”
You wanted to yell at him. Your jaw worked as you thought of the words, spitting out hard and fast and smashing into him, making him think of the ass he’s being. Instead, as your jaw gyrated over and over, all that came out was tears. Stuttering, ugly tears that tracked your face, leaving you an utterly angry wreck in front of Detective Asshole. At the back of your mind, you thought that he’d probably laugh about it later with his friends, about the dumbass who couldn’t even hold it together during questioning.
Instead, those green eyes softened. Unhindered by the fact that he was technically in a professional situation, strong arms reached out to massage your back, you somehow finding yourself cradled against his chest. You knew he rested his chin on you from the brush of stubble.
“It’s alright. You’re safe now, kiddo. They can’t hurt you, ok?” The words came out of him in a rush, more like a stream of sounds than actual coherent thoughts, but it’s enough for you to calm down, to gingerly yank away from him, pointedly not looking at all the people you know must be staring. By the look on his face, you knew that he didn’t now, exactly, why he did that, but as the few questions he had for you peter out with your lack of insight, he pressed a card into your hands. “Call me if you remember anything, kid. Ok?” He patted your back twice, careful but insistent.
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You called him two days later, 1:30 am exactly.
You couldn’t sleep. Over and over, the same scene played in your head. A voice, rough as gravel. Two gunshots. Blood. The dull thud of a body hitting the newly-cleaned floor.
Even as your fingers numbly plugged in the number, the thoughts clawed at the edge of your vision.
When Gavin picked up, he sounded groggy. Like he had just crawled into bed after a long shift. But that didn’t stop you.
“Um, I can’t sleep. Because of what happened.” Your finger curled in the flimsy white sheet on your bed. Suddenly, you think Gavin really did mean for you to only use it for business. That he’d swell up with anger at your intrusion.
Instead, you can hear his smile, sleepy as it is, from his voice. “You wanna talk tomorrow, kiddo? I can get you lunch or something. My treat.”
You agreed, both on a place and a time, and somehow, you were able to sleep.
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The next morning, you put on dithered over what to wear before throwing on jeans and a t-shirt, as well as your favorite jacket. You hadn’t gotten up in time to have breakfast, and your stomach growled.
Gavin was waiting for you at a table. It was a little cafe, with cat paw prints on the dining mats and bright awnings festooning every edifice. You would have thought it too cutesy for someone like him, but as you watched him stirring a dark glass with a cat head stirrer, you weren’t so sure.
“Hey!” You called out, waving a little before you decided it was too awkward. You stuck your hands in the pockets of your jean jacket, instead surveying the ground as you clomped forward.
Gavin greeted you with a smile. It was warm, with a hint of teeth. You plopped down in the chair he motioned to, wincing as your back met the hard plastic.
“You like it here? I think it has a certain charm.”
“It has a certain something, alright.”
Gavin snorted. “Well, anything’s better than what, Univeesity Cafeteria food?”
“I’m out of school.” Only for a year. Despite your best efforts, only minimum wage jobs were hiring you. “Though I suppose I do have a bit of a baby face.” That was an understatement; with your barely dropped voice (Testosterone was expensive, and you had only been on it for two months) and lack of any facial hair, most people mistook you for a high schooler.
That earned another snicker from Gavin. “You’ll grow out of it, trust me. And then you’ll be left wondering why no old ladies compliment you for being such a nice young man.”
“Was that the peak of adulthood for you?” You asked idly, pouring over the menu. You barely got to eat out anymore, and the anticipation gnawed at your stomach.
A waitress walked over, smiling down at both of you. Graying hair piled high on her head in a bun, making her appear lopsided. “What can I get you two to eat?”
Gavin ordered first (Double nacho supreme with a coke), while you waited politely, your smile feeling more and more forced as the hunger ate away at you.
“May I have the chocolate chip pancakes, please? With a glass of chocolate milk.”
For some reason, the waitress grinned. “How well mannered!” The words came out like a coo, and you suppressed a shudder.
“Double chocolate, huh? That’ll do your stomach real well.”
“At least I’m not having nachos.”
Gavin nodded, drumming his fingers against the table. “So, kid. Kiddo. Squirt. Would you like to talk about last night, or… something else?”
“Something else, please.” The thought of recounting your night made your stomach turn.
“Alright. So, how old are you?”
You stiffened. “22.”
“Ooh, a baby! I’m 36, myself.”
“Positively geriatric.”
“That’s not nice. Anyways, what do you like to do for fun?”
“I like to hang out with my friends.” You hadn’t seen any of them in forever. “And I love to go to the movies.” You hadn’t had money for that in a long long while. “And I think the fair is cool, I guess…”
“Nice. I like to go drinking.”
As you thought of a response to that, Gavin’s eyes narrowed, squinting at the front of your jacket. “I like your pin, kid.”
As if you could undinhim seeing it, your hand leapt to cover it on your chest. “Oh- it’s- it’s-“ The last thing you wanted was to explain what the little blue, pink, and white flag meant to this virtual stranger, even if he had put you at ease.
“I know.” Gavin smiled, reaching over to ruffle your hair. You just stared back st him, mouth chewing on the words.
“You know?” You spat finally.
“Yeah. I mean, I’m trans too…” He quirked an eyebrow at you.
“Oh.”
When the waitress brought over your food, you wolfed it down. Question upon question brewed at the back of your mind, but you weren’t sure how to phrase any of it.
So the meal passed in a relative silence, Gavin shooting you encouraging smiles and barraging you with small talk, mostly about his cats, in between chips.
Just as you were about to leave, yourself rummaging around in your bag for cash before Gavin motioned got you to stop, the waitress came over to pick up the check.
“I hope you have a nice day with your son!” She smiled at Gavin, scooping up the check and hurrying away before Gavin or you can correct her.
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