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It’s absolutely gorgeous out and fucking freezing. Every edgy strap and snap is in place, wrapping Dan up tight against the biting cold and wind. He’s wearing sunglasses but he doesn’t have a hat or a scarf because he hadn’t been expecting this kind of cold.That will teach him to look out the window when he should have just asked Siri. He’s grumbling under his breath, complaining to no one as he walks.
He could have bloody well made coffee at home but the stupid sky fooled him into thinking it was a nice day for a walk to the shop. It’s packed, of course, on the one day Dan thought he’d sit and enjoy.
The barista smiles and Dan does his best to smile back in spite of his mood.
“Hey Dan, double espresso?”
Dan realizes he’s still wearing sunglasses so he pulls them off, tossing his head like he’s got hair to manage. It’s an old habit. God, he must look like an absolute wanker.
“Actually, I think my nerves could use some calming today, I’ll do a matcha latte.” He even sounds like a wanker.
“For here?”
He didn’t bring his reusable mug so he’s got guilt to deal with too, but he says he’ll take it to go anyway. “It’s a little crowded for my taste.”
“Yeah, it gets really busy on Sundays.”
Dan is genuinely surprised. “It’s Sunday?”
***
Phil is wearing his favorite jumper, it’s striped in rainbow colors with strands of glittery silver all throughout the knit. The cold had taken him by surprise, rushing in when he opened his front door, but he went back inside and grabbed his coat. He chose his silver space coat because he figured it matched the sparkles in his jumper. This is the first chance he’s had to wear a big coat this year and it puts a little spring in his step.
He could have made coffee at home but it’s fall and that means he gets to treat himself to a sweet, delicious pumpkin spiced latte with pumpkin whipped cream and pumpkin bread with a little orange pumpkin on the icing.
He’s sat by the window, watching the leaves blow across the pavement, and the people hurry by, all bundled up. Sunday is the best day for people watching and this is Phil’s favorite place for it. In addition to the shoppers and Sunday brunch hipsters outside the window, the shop is filled with stories waiting to be told.
The baristas look busy, running around each other like rats in a maze. He could never do this job, multi-tasking is not a thing Phil can do. He wonders what time they get here in the morning and if they still go out on Saturday nights. A couple of them look pretty exhausted. Not Joseph though, he always looks fit. Joseph is Phil’s favorite barista. He’s hot and friendly and smiley. And he’s always willing to engage in some good back and forth with Phil, laughing at his puns and humoring his thinly veiled flirting.
There’s someone else to look at today, a guy he’s seen here before. He’s tall and he’s got lovely wavy hair and pretty skin and he wears all black. He wears all black everyday as far as Phil can tell, so mysterious. He’s waiting by the counter, staring at his phone. Phil has a whole narrative in his head about this guy. He figures he’s from one of those arty European countries, like Germany or Italy. He imagines the guy is a DJ or a producer or something but he’s a film buff too and he makes a great omelette.
He’s lost in the story playing out in his head when he hears Joseph call out, “Dan!”
He’s called Dan. He’s called Dan? Well that doesn’t fit. No self respecting, omelette flipping, German industrial DJ would be called Dan. He watches Dan put his sunglasses on before he picks up his drink and gives Joseph a two finger salute. He’s so cool.
He’s going to have to walk right by Phil’s table to get to the door. This is Phil’s chance to try and make a connection. They both come here all the time, they should be friends and come together. Phil takes a sip, looking up at Dan as he approaches. He intends to lower his cup and smile but Dan does something that has him frozen. He looks right at Phil and he doesn’t look away. Of course, his eyes could be anywhere behind those dark lenses, but it sure feels like he’s looking.
Phil is just allowing himself to believe that this pretty boy could be checking him out, when German DJ Dan falters. The moment unfolds in slow motion. Dan stumbles a little. He rights himself but it doesn’t stick, one foot hooks in front of the other and he trips, canting forward. His cup bounces in his grip, splashing hot liquid from the hole in the lid, but he manages to keep ahold of it, his eyes wide and downcast as his glasses slip from their perch and fall, right into Phil’s waiting hand.
***
“Shit.” Dan says under his breath. One of these days, he’ll learn to walk properly. Of course, he stumbles right in front of that guy that’s here all the time. He’s got such a strange asymmetrical face. He’s pale, like vampire pale, with black hair. Maybe he is a vampire. That’s hot. He’s looking right at Dan and his eyes are unreal. Dan’s never gotten a good look at them before but now he can’t look away. They’re sublime, so bright and beautiful and yet deep with emotion and…
“Fuck shit fuck!” If only he could leave the house without humiliating himself. He does manage to hold on to his latte but his heart stops with the realization that his Yohji Yamamoto glasses are no longer on his face.
“Oh my gosh!” The guy with the lethally distracting eyes has stood and put a hand on Dan’s arm. “Are you ok?” He looks down at Dan’s glasses in his other hand. “Huh! Look at that! That was pure reflex, I usually have zero coordination. Oh! Your coat, you spilled.” And with that, he’s run off.
It feels weird to stand here in the middle of all these people so Dan sits to try and let his heart rate normalize. When his vampire hero returns, he’s got a handful of napkins in one hand, the glasses are still in the other.
Dan gasps and snatches back his precious shades. “Thank you,” he says, hand to his heart, like this guy just pulled his baby from a burning building. “I love these sunglasses.”
“No problem, glad I caught them rather than stepping on them.” He laughs nervously.
“Oh my god, I’d literally die.”
“Yikes, I’m definitely glad then.” He sits back down. “I would have replaced them, obviously.”
“Mate, these were 350 quid.”
His response is a sputter, choking a little on his coffee from the shock of it all. He never did give Dan the napkins and instead uses the whole wad to wipe his mouth.
“Please don’t choke because of me. I couldn’t live with the guilt.”
“You sound so posh,” the vampire says through a giggle, “You know I thought you were a German DJ?”
***
“I’m sorry, what?” Dan looks absolutely dumbfounded.
“I tell myself stories about the people I see. You look so cool all the time, so, German DJ.” Phil takes a huge bite of pumpkin bread and crumbs go everywhere, he covers his mouth to chew.
“You’ve seen me here before? And you noticed me?”
It takes a minute for Phil to finish his bite and take a sip before he can answer. “Oh yeah. You don’t exactly blend in.”
“Okay,” Dan says, “Thanks, I think. I’m Dan.”
“Phil,” Phil answers, “I’d shake your hand but I’m a little sticky.” He laughs again while simultaneously wishing he wouldn’t laugh so much when he’s nervous. “I hope your coat’s alright.”
“Honestly, this coat is too light, I was not expecting this cold. Thanks for letting me sit in the warm a bit. There aren’t really any other tables. I like this place, the drinks are good and they play good music but it’s just gotten so popular, you know.”
“I guess. I don’t think I mind. It’s worth it for the pumpkin bread and the cute barista.”
“Which one?”
“Joseph.” Phil says before looking in Joseph’s general direction and sighing dramatically. “His hair is stupid but he pulls it off. You should follow him on instagram, he posts shirtless selfies sometimes.”
“Wow, stalker much?” Dan hands are wrapped around his cup now and he’s relaxed back into the chair, like he’s staying a while. Phil shrugs and sips his coffee slower.
“So um,” Dan says, “what’s his instagram?”
With a smile, Phil searches for the right page on his phone and hands it over. Dan scrolls a bit, there’s a few raised brows and a nod before he grabs his own phone.
“Followed you,” he says, “hope that’s cool.”
Phil does his best to look nonchalant but he’s a terrible actor. He can feel the corner of his lips curling, the traders. The whole, aloof, hard to get, thing has never been Phil’s way. He’s not hard to get, not for the right guy. Dan seems like he’ll be pretty great once Phil breaks through this tough exterior he’s putting up. He’s a little akward and at least a little gay. And maybe it’s shallow but his face is the best face Phill has seen in a while. It’s a really good face.
With his phone back in hand, he quickly finds Dan and follows him back. His plate is nothing but crumbs and one last bite. In a bold move, he picks it up on is fork and offers it to Dan. He could decline the offer, he could take the fork, or he could lean forward and take the bite between his teeth, pulling his lips over the fork to clean off every drop of icing. He does the latter. Phil is watching his mouth intently, when Dan closes his eyes, tips his head back and moans. He moans right here in the shop, right in front of Phil’s blushing cheeks.
“Oh my god,” Dan says around his mouthful, “this is transcendent. I’m gonna need a minute.”
Phil looks around but no one has noticed them. He pulls on his jumper a bit. They must have turned up the heat in here.
When Dan’s eyes finally open, Phil is swallowing the evidence of the mouth watering display Dan is putting on. He looks straight at Phil’s bobbing adam’s apple and then at his tongue as it darts out to lick his lips and then into his eyes. He appears to come around, as if out of a trance.
“I should probably get going,” He says, clearing his throat.
Phil stands and quickly clears his dishes. “I’ll walk you out.”
Just as Phil is pulling on his coat, Dan says, “that jumper is something, isn’t it?”
Phil glances down. “I love this jumper. It has all the colors but then it also has sparkles. What’s not to like?”
“Hmm,” Dan is contemplating something, “what if you meet the man of your dreams and you’re wearing that jumper?”
“I think the man of my dreams would see this jumper, on me, and love it.”
“Is that so? Are you sure about that?” Dan is pulling his zipper up past his chin.
Phil steps away from the table and walks toward the door, hearing Dan follow behind him. He holds the door open and they step outside. They stand there for a moment and Phil holds his coat open.
“You tell me Dan, what do you think of my jumper?”
Dan smile is small and sly, “it was good to meet you Phil. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Phil says goodbye and zips up his coat. They’re headed in opposite directions. Phil is nearly home when his phone vibrates, he has a direct message on instagram.
Ok, the jumper suits you. It brings out your eyes and I like the whole gay rainbow nod. It would be tacky on the rack, but on you, I love it. Thanks again for saving my bougie sunglasses.
There’s a phone number at the bottom that Phil saves under the name Dan (the man of my dreams) maybe. Phil has no desire to play coy, so he opens his text messages and starts up a conversation. Just like that, there’s a new story for Dan. He’s not a German DJ who makes a great omelette. He’s a tall boy from England, a beautiful one. Maybe the first chapter of this story ends with Phil deleting that maybe at the end of Dan’s name. Who knows how the story will unfold? It’s a real page turner though, one that Phil’s not gonna want to put down.