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Karl spent his days in a coffee shop. He worked there during college, and when he moved to stay in the area he kept it as a part time job. It was easy enough, and he could deal with the smell of the coffee. And he had enough friends there; his coworkers weren’t really annoying, and they all seemed to like him so that it never became boring.
And most of their customers were regulars. More often than not he worked shifts with George, and together they’d comment on or chat with their guests. George commented more than Karl did. He talked about their customers' looks, and if Karl would ever be interested in getting with one of them. George’s boyfriend hated the smell of coffee and so Karl hardly ever saw him. So Karl figured George’s retaliation in never getting to see him was trying to find him a suitor.
It was fun because Karl had no interest. Every person George would point out to him he didn’t care for. George desperately tried to figure out his type, but failed. Karl tried to explain he didn’t really have a type but George didn’t buy it. But it was true, Karl had no interest in any of them. None of them caught his eye, and he was just trying to save up enough cash to buy a new place and put his college degree to use.
And then they got a new customer.
Karl didn’t think anything of it, at first. He looked like a newly made college student, young and exhausted. He wore a grey sweatshirt and sweatpants, both baggy. He didn’t look like the type to come into a coffee shop like this, and Karl raised a brow when he saw he was only ordering his coffee black with only a dollop of cream. It was plain and made Karl cringe, but it was his coffee. And Karl sent him off not bothering to remember his name, thinking that he was only going to see the man once.
But he was there the next day. And the day after that, and the day after that. And George never brought up the guy once, like he did with all of their other customers. And that was funny because… well, Karl figured, because.
The guy showed up half asleep and at the same time every day, right before 10am. He was a scruffy looking thing, and big too. Karl was his opposite; lanky, clean shaven, tall. He had a bit of a beard, and long dark hair he always tied back with a headband. By the fifth day, Karl had both his name and order memorized.
When the man came up to the counter, Karl placed his already brewed coffee in front of him before he could get a word out. He stared blearily ahead, blinking his sleep away before his eyes dragged up to meet Karl’s, waiting expectantly for his cash.
“You know my order?” He asked, his voice raspy and deep. Karl smiled politely at him.
“You’re in a lot, and the order isn’t that hard.” He shrugged, and the man fished his cash out of his pocket, pressing it into Karl’s hand.
The man lifted his drink, turning it over in his hands before taking a sip. “You didn’t write my name on it.”
“You want me to?” Karl asked, trying to be helpful, and the man gave him a curious look.
“Do you know it?”
“Yeah,” Karl murmured, and gestured for the drink. He had practically a hundred customers a day, but by chance he did remember. He grabbed it, and popped open the sharpie they always used with his thumb. “Sap-nap.” He sounded out, and Sapnap stared at him in surprise, taking the coffee back.
“Thanks,” he said, “Karl.” And Karl shouldn’t have frozen up at his name, it was literally written across his apron, but he found himself taking pause. He grinned with a nod.
“Have a nice day, sir.” He said, and Sapnap was typically quiet. He would say his order, and then hand over his cash and leave.
But today Sapnap replied, taking a sip of his drink, “You too.”
George was busy washing out their coffee machine, toweling it off. He promptly elbowed Karl in the side once Sapnap had left. “What’s that about? Has he been in before?”
“He’s started coming in everyday this week,” Karl said, glancing at the door to ensure there were no more customers, “Always just before 10am.”
“He looks like he hasn’t slept in ages.”
“That’s probably why he’s here.” Karl pointed out, and George hummed, leaving all together. And that was strange, because right about then George would have likely been trying to ask Karl what he thought about him, ask if he was interested.. And it was nice, admittedly, to not have his friend breathing down his back for whatever reason about this guy.
Karl could unashamedly talk to Sapnap, who seemed nice. He hoped that he would be in more. And, eventually, he did come in more. One day at 9:55am, another day at 9:52am, the third day 9:58am. It went on courteously. Karl would always have his ugly, dark, hot liquid waiting for him, and Sapnap would take it, pay, and leave with brief, kind conversation. On the fourth day, though, 6 minutes before 10am, Sapnap paused. He watched Karl slide his coffee toward him, but didn’t make a move for his wallet. Instead he stood silently, staring at the counter, before glancing up to meet Karl’s eyes.
“I like your nails.” He said, and Karl paused, his hands hovering over the cash register.
“Thanks.” Karl said, and Sapnap finally began to dig in his pocket for his wallet.
“You always have them painted?”
“Uh, yeah. I repainted them pink and white this morning.” Karl said, and held out his hand to show him. He hadn’t expected him to grab his hand though, his hands even warmer than Karl’s were. He scrutinized his nails, scrunching his nose in the process.
“I don’t even wanna know how you did that. It looks cool, man.” Sapnap said and finally gently turned Karl’s wrist over, pressing the money into his palm. Just under his sleeve Karl caught a slip of Sapnap’s wrist, and blinked in surprise to see it was covered in ink. When Sapnap pulled away, Karl was certain his face was bright red.
He’d never had a customer outright grab his hand like that, but maybe he deserved it for putting his hand out as he did. And it’s not like the dude had any ill-intention, it was just different. This big bulking guy, sweatshirt, sweatpants, pulled back hair, dark eyes and all, just complimented his nails. It gave Karl’s confidence a boost he wasn’t expecting.
“Thank you. Have a nice day, Sapnap!” Karl smiled, and with a nod the guy was out the door at 9:59am. George hovered by his shoulder again, having caught snippets of their conversation from the other cash register, dealing with another customer.
“That guy, again. I guess he’s coming in everyday, huh?”
“Seems like it.” Karl murmured softly, watching Sapnap walk by the store through the glass. He wondered what more was under his hoodie, on his wrist. He thought he had seen ink, but honestly? There was no telling. It was only a glimpse.
But his curiosity was too strong to dismiss. On the fifth day, Karl glanced at the time to see it was only 9:49am and Sapnap had already arrived. Karl got to brewing his coffee immediately, and Sapnap smirked when he realized his order wasn’t done yet.
Ignoring it, Karl turned over his shoulder and asked, “So, why are you always in around this time? Do you have school at ten or something?”
Sapnap shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Nah, I work next door. My shift starts at ten, so it’s easier to just swing by here before.”
“You work at the flower shop?” Karl asked, just trying for conversation, and Sapnap shook his head.
“Nah,” he breathed, taking the cup out of Karl’s hand and taking a sip, “The tattoo parlor.”
Oh. The ink on his wrist began to make a lot more sense.
“I thought I saw ink on your wrist the other day,” Karl chuckled, taking his cash. “Do you have a lot?”
“Of tattoos? Yeah, I do.” Sapnap said, and took another sip of his coffee. “How about you?”
“Oh, no,” Karl laughed nervously, “I’m terrified of needles.”
“You ever want one though?” Sapnap asked, and Karl hesitated before shrugging.
“It’s one of those bucket list things, isn’t it?” Karl murmured, and Sapnap seemed to have taken the hint.
“You ever want one, just stop by. I’ll help you through it, you’re definitely not the first to be scared of them.” Sapnap said with a dry laugh, and Karl closed the register. He smiled weakly, threading his hands together.
“I’ll think about it. Maybe,” Karl said, and Sapnap chuckled at him. “Have a nice day, Sapnap.”
Without looking at his tag and turning over the shoulder, Sapnap replied, “You too, Karl.”
On the sixth day, Karl didn’t realize that it was 11:43am until Sapnap’s drink had gone cold on the back counter, and their cafe was empty. George and Karl had been sitting around like any other day at this time, but Karl couldn’t help but feel there was something missing. He’d nearly knocked over the drink with his elbow before he noticed, and George caught the look on his face before it could pass.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just… Sapnap’s late today. It’s the first day since he started coming.” Karl pointed out, and George snorted, lowering his phone where he was presumably texting Dream.
“It’s not like we’re busy. Go walk it over to him if you’re worried that much. And if he’s not there, ask where he is.”
“That’s borderline stalker-ish, George.” Karl complained, and George rolled his eyes, tucking his phone into his apron and crossing his arms.
“I don’t think he’s going to mind if you show up with coffee. You’re gonna be, like, his knight in shining armor. Why not?” George asked, and Karl sucked in his cheeks. “Why are you overthinking this?”
“No reason,” Karl murmured. “I just don’t wanna be, like, weird.”
“Just go.” George whined at him, and Karl finally did. He knew George would just continue to push if he didn’t.
Before he could regret it, he warmed up the coffee and headed out, untying his apron from his waist. The bell of their door rang over his head, and he walked only a few paces down the sidewalk to the parlor. It was a total contrast to the cafe, all light tones and feeling like home. The parlor looked like a club; dark walls, interesting art pieces everywhere, lava lamps… Karl stepped inside and immediately felt out of place.
“Hey man, you have an appointment?” A woman kicked her feet off of the counter and threw her book aside. She stood and leaned her arms to it, pretty blonde hair framing her face. She had bright eyes and a kind smile, and Karl willed himself to speak, protectively clutching the coffee to his chest as he walked over.
“Uh, no, just dropping something off. Is Sapnap here?”
“Pandas? Yeah, he’s here. What you got for him?” She asked, and Karl raised the beverage in his hand, eyeing the tattoos that littered her neck in intricate, dark designs all the way down to her collarbone.
“Just coffee, uhm. I don’t think he had any this morning.” Karl said, voice catching in his throat. The woman simply smiled at him, not showing any signs of noticing it.
“Oh, well if you say so,” She said, and opened up the wooden slab that served as a gate to their register, letting it close behind her with a slam. “Come on, I’ll take you to him.” She said, and gestured with a hand over her shoulder for him to follow.
He swallowed when she opened a curtain with her hand, and he ducked under it. The back rooms were a little bit lighter, but that’s because there were several people getting inked. Artists were leaning over huge dark chairs, some of the customers cringing in their seats. Karl could hardly look, and followed closely behind the woman as she led him into the back.
Finally they squeezed their way past the last divider and came to a stop at one of the artist’s stations. Karl kept his mouth shut, wide eyed as the artist started to fill in crazy small details, branching out every which way across their customer’s back, sprawled out on a different table. When the man paused and moved to wipe his forehead with the back of his wrist, the woman cleared her throat.
“Sap? This guy was asking for you.” She called to him, and the man Karl had been watching turned over his shoulder. Karl felt his jaw drop the farthest it’s ever gone. He hadn’t had any idea that the artist sitting in front of him was Sapnap. His sweatshirt that went everywhere with him was hung across the back of his chair. Underneath the sweatshirt he wore a tank top, well-fitted and clinging to his skin. But rather than his torso Karl found his eyes raking up his arms, sleeves of ink telling stories of fire and power that made him rapt with attention, until Sapnap finally looked at him.
“Karl! You came!” He exclaimed, gently placing the needle down with gloved hands, resting his wrists on his knees. “Thanks for bringing him in, Alyssa.” He said.
“Don’t mention it.” She smiled, and disappeared.
Before Sapnap could say anything, Karl started with, “You didn’t get your coffee this morning.”
Sapnap scratched his head. “Yeah, my client here wanted to start early. We got here around eight and I’ve been working my ass off every since.” He said, and gladly took the coffee from Karl when he handed it to him. Karl nearly giggled when Sapnap downed half the drink. “My wallet’s over here, let me just—”
“On the house,” Karl interjected, stopping him from getting out of his seat, “Don’t worry about it.”
Sapnap smirked a wild thing, and then grinned wider once he realized something Karl missed. “Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Huh?”
“My name, you didn’t write it on this time.” He said, holding it back out to Karl, and he rolled his eyes.
“Do you have a pen?” Karl muttered and Sapnap gestured to the shelves to the side. When Karl finally found the pen after nearly puking at the sight of so many needles, he decided to write something different than his name. Call it a stroke of bravery, a stroke of whatever, Karl didn’t care.
“Enjoy your coffee,” He murmured, handing it back, “And good luck with your tat.” He finished, before turning to make a beeline for the exit. Over his shoulder, though, Sapnap called out to him before he left.
“Thanks! You have a good day, Karl!” He shouted, and Karl couldn’t help but smile, just a little.
Sapnap didn’t say anything about the thing he’d written on his cup for days. And Karl thought the man simply missed it, or was deliberately choosing to ignore it. Whatever the case, Karl wasn’t going to bring it up until he did. After more days pass, he finally does.
“I’m free after my shift tomorrow,” Sapnap blurted. “We’d have the whole shop to ourselves, whaddya say?”
Karl smiled, pressing the cap of the sharpie back on. “That sounds great. You’ll text me?” Karl asked hopefully, and Sapnap grinned, taking a small sip of his drink.
“Yeah,” he said, “I guess I will.”
Don’t get Karl wrong. He wasn’t the type to just scrawl his phone number on men’s coffee cups. He really wasn’t. But for some reason he did. He has. And because Sapnap’s continued to be cordial with him, even more than, Karl didn’t regret it for a minute. Both days came and went, and Karl waited patiently outside as the sun began to paint the sky orange, relishing the sun on his face.
He tried not to think about what was to come, and nearly felt his heart jump out of his chest when the last of Sapnap’s coworkers and customers left, Sapnap peeking his head outside and keeping the door propped up.
“You ready?” He asked, and Karl giggled nervously, without feeling.
“Yeah.” He muttered, and Sapnap didn’t scoff. He led him back to his office, and when he gestured to the tattoo chair Karl cautiously sat down as if he’d be pricked with something every move he made. Sapnap folded his hands.
“You said you just wanted eyes, right?”
“Mhm. Just on my finger.” Karl said, and Sapnap began to glove his hands.
“It’s going to take, like, 2 minutes. And I’ll be right here for the whole thing.” Karl’s eyes darted between Sapnap, his hand, and the needle next to him.
“Okay.” He breathed, and Sapnap raised a brow.
“Okay?” He checked again, and Karl quickly nodded. Sapnap took his hand in his, warmth radiating from it immediately, and Karl had to look away. He crossed his other arm over his face and whined, yelling when the needle touched and breached his skin. He tried not to pull away, but was thankful for Sapnap holding his hand down.
It was finished just like he said, in minutes. Karl dropped his arm from his face and looked at the two dots incredulously. Two old tears fell from his eyes and he blinked them away, swallowing down the remainder of his sickness. He’d done it. He sighed, and leaned back into the chair, forcing himself to relax.
“God.” Karl whined, shutting his eyes, and Sapnap’s grip tightened on his hand.
“Don’t worry, you’re done. You good?”
“Mmm.” Was Karl’s response, and Sapnap lifted his hand. He pressed a kiss just to the corner of his hand, and Karl’s eyes shot open wide.
“See?” He said, lowering his hand, “All better.” He smiled easily, and Karl 100% believed him, too focused on the sudden fluttering in his stomach.
Okay. Maybe, just maybe, he had a sort of infatuation for Sapnap. And maybe, just maybe that was why he handed over his number so soon, and gave in to his worst fear of all time, needles.
And maybe just maybe, that’s why when Sapnap goes to pull away, Karl intertwines their fingers and sits up straight in his chair, swinging his legs over the side.
“This was a lot of fun, thanks so much.”
“Don’t mention it.” Sapnap breathed, looking up at him, and yeah. Karl was certain there was something more about the way he was watching him, the only sound the whirring of their fan working overtime a few dividers away.
“I think,” Karl said, squeezing before letting go entirely, still trying to catch his breath from earlier, “You should text me about… something other than tattoos.”
“You think so?” He asked.
“Yeah,” Karl said awkwardly, quickly losing confidence because Sapnap was so hot, so handsome and pretty and beneath him and nice. “I do.”
“Okay,” Sapnap rasped, standing up, throwing his hoodie over his shoulder. “Maybe I will.” He smirked, and Karl giggled.
“Okay.”
In the weeks to come, George was flat out devastated. “He was right,” The British man mumbled, seemingly beside himself with grief. “He was right all along.”
Karl lowered his phone from where he’d been texting nothing but hearts and love Sapnap’s way for the last hour, and tilted his head to the side. “What? Who?”
“Dream. He said that the minute I stopped interfering with your love life, you would find someone. We even bet on it.” He whined, and Karl broke into laughter.
“Sapnap’s a great guy. I wasn’t expecting it, but I love him so much.”
“You’re telling me.” George said, rolling his eyes, and Karl scoffed playfully.
“Says you.” He said, and George pushed him away with a shake of his head.
Yeah, Karl figured. Maybe he didn’t necessarily have a type, but maybe, just maybe, Sapnap checked every single box on his list with flying colors.