Chapter Text
Tommy took a sharp breath as he woke up, covered in cold sweat. His roommates family were peacefully asleep in the old, creepy bed they had, cuddled up to eachother thanks to their more ‘intimate’ relationship, which really just meant that they wanted to get married but couldn’t due to the expenses of a large fancy party, honeymoons and anniversary gifts. Plus, it would make Tommy a really a big third wheel which he refused to be.
He took a deep sigh as he sat up from his spot in the couch, rubbing his sore neck from the uncomfortable position he had slept in. With a deep inhale, he grabbed his phone to look at the time. It was currently 11pm, which meant his shift started soon. He hummed, assuming he wouldn’t get any sleep anyway as he got up and moved to the washroom to start changing into his uniform.
He wore a pair of black khakis, a white full-sleeved shirt (he couldn’t have the scars on his arms show, afterall), and a long, light-red apron. He made good money at the café for only doing 12 hours of work on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday and 8 hours of Tuesday and Thursday. He usually did paid overtime on Saturdays if Niki or Puffy let him, which they would if they were understaffed and only if they were understaffed, although they were still hesitant about it..
With a sigh, he slumped his black backbag over his shoulders. He had gotten it as a birthday gift from Dream from back when he crashed over at his house, smiling at the memory softly. It consisted of a small lunch, some drawings to work on and sell for when business was slow, his phone, a cheap (scroungy) notebook to write any ideas down, and a water bottle.
With a swing of his arms, he started walking to the café. The ‘bench trio’, they called themselves, couldn’t afford a car, so they had opted to walk or use the bus when it was running. Since Tommy worked the night shift at the café, no (safe) buses ran at the time so he took a walk. Not only was it healthy, the café was only ten minutes away so it didn’t take long.
The path was easily recognisable for Tommy, having worked at the café for two years now. He had taken the same route to the café for the past two years, the one piece of stability in his much-too chaotic life. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice he had gotten to the café until he walked straight into the door. He winced, looking up as he saw Jack laughing through the transparent door. He rolled his eyes, pushing the door open as he walked in.
”Ayup mate,” Jack greeted with a chuckle, “Walking into doors today are we?”
”Oi, shut up. I’m the one who gets more women between the two of us,” Tommy proclaimed (definitely not) falsely. “I can take the last ten minutes of your shift, already here innit?”
”Nah man, go get your 10 minute break. Talk to me, shop’s a bit quiet for a Wednesday night.” Jack leaned on the counter, eyes focused on Tommy. He squirmed under the older man’s gaze, being scrutinised by him. “Where’d the cut on your neck come from?” He asked carefully.
”You know, sex, a woman gave me a hickey, Jack. Now I know, there’s no need to be jealous at all, Mr. Manifold.” Tommy joked—a teasing edge to his voice, being used to the constant deflection to do it flawlessly. The other snorted, seeming to forget about the topic which Tommy was oh-so grateful for. He didn’t feel like lying when answering questions about Tubbo’s vigilante work at the moment.
”I’m sure she did Tommy. God, sometimes I think you’re delusional, man.” Jack hummed through his lips, leaning on the counter further. Tommy snorted through his nose, not that he’d ever admit to laughing at Jack Manifold (the horror!). He wasn’t funny, no no no, Jack Manifold is never funny. “Hey, Tom, I’ve never bothered askin’ but what’s your opinion on the hero-villain-vigilante thing going on?”
”I think villains are mean, heroes are dumb and mean, and vigilantes are poggers.” Tommy answered simply, “I think if Niki was one of the three, she’d definitely be a vigilante. Puffy and Sam would be heroes, but like, the good kind y'know? Kind of like Explosion before their retirement. And you? You’d definitely be a villain. You’re way too spiteful to be good, or even to pretend to be good.” He explained in terms of their café to try and explain, although he might have missed the point.
”Huh, that’s interesting. I think the people on Twitter would disagree with your opinion on heroes,” Jack pointed out (very helpfully (not helpful at all)).
”Twitter disagrees with everything, though.” Tommy replied intelligently, unlike Jack Manifold.
”Oh shut up, you know what I mean. The media would disagree too. Although I appreciate it, not a big fan of heroes m’self.”
”Oh you aren’t? God, no, I need to go buy Somnium’s merch excessively since it’s my duty to disagree with anything and everything you say. Please change your opinion, Jack, I’m going to cry.” Tommy threatened playfully as the older man huffed in mock offence.
”You little shit— It wouldn’t kill you to bond with me for once in your life!” Jack cursed playfully. Just as Tommy broke into laughter, the clock rung, alerting the two that it was now twelve o’ clock. Tommy flinched at the loud noise, hitting the wall with a wince. “Oh, mate, you okay?” Jack asked worriedly.
”Yep, yep, I’m fine! Go home, go to bed, I’m sure Niki and Puffy will start mother-henning over you if you don’t head home soon!” Tommy held up a thumbs up, ignoring the pain in his back with a grin. Jack hummed suspiciously, grabbing his bag from on top of the coffee machine.
”Okay, Tom. Have a good shift, call if you need anything.” Jack slung the bag over his shoulder, stepping out from behind the counter as he left through the door. “Bye!” He waved, exiting the shop. Tommy let out a sigh of relief as he rubbed the spot that was hurting, placing his own bag under the counter in the small shelf that was built into the café. He slipped behind the counter, officially starting his shift.
He decided to pull out his unfinished drawing to complete it since Jack had said business would probably be slow. That gave him a lot of time to finish this piece for his client. It was just a lineart 3/4 drawing, a pretty basic figure. They had asked Tommy to draw their OC which was honestly quite simple. The tricky part was that they wanted the lineart to be done in color, and Tommy didn’t have very good quality markers and pens. It wasn’t like he got that many tips either, so at the moment he was borrowing Niki’s.
He was around halfway through with the sketch when the bell rung, alerting him that someone had walked in. He slipped the drawing into the shelf space, looking up at the customer/s as he greeted them. “Hello, welcome to Mocha Cakes, what can I get you today?” Tommy greeted, a fake smile plastered on his face.
He observed the customers carefully, one of them had perfectly curled brown hair and they were wearing a dark purple mask. Their eyes were covered but their mouth was exposed, a cruel grin on it. Blood was splattered on their cheek; a stain of blood on their cape that trailed along their back. It was really more like a jacket—a long, blue jacket worn like a cape that was really far too big for their lanky figure. Their pants were instantly recognisable, black khakis with an engraved ‘S’ on them.
The other customer had long, pastel pink hair (lighter than Niki’s, Tommy supplied) that was tied into a delicate braid. Their hair was decorated by soft flowers—yellow roses and cherry blossoms. Their lips were just barely visible, a soft pink in a neutral expression. No matter how calm and defenceless they looked from the outside, they were really intimidating when you looked at the rest of them. They were wearing a proper cape—red and long. The top of their head had a perfectly placed crown on it, the diamonds highlighting it. They wore a mask that resembled the face of a pig with horns, covering everything but their lips. It was easy to tell who these men were.
Blade and Lyric.
Tommy rolled his eyes with an overly dramatic sigh. “Really? I didn’t know you decided you wanted to rob a local small business. If you’re here for that, I’ll just tell you, the other guy from the last shift took all the cash to the owners. Go try the bank or something, fucking bitches.” He mumbled under his breath, “Do you want a free drink or something? Want to break the coffee machine or some shit? Going to make me stab myself? Please go on, enlighten me on why you decided to ruin my evening.” He spoke with a deadpan.
Perhaps Tommy was being a bit too casual about the two supervillains in the café he worked at, but honestly this was just another Wednesday for Tommy. His life was so chaotic with his roommates being vigilantes and all, he didn’t think anything could phase him anymore. Clearly the villains were not as casual.
”Wh- no!” Lyric protested. “We just wanted coffee, long night, fighting with Somnium and all that.”
”Yeah, yeah, I’m sure Blade kicked his ass easily. Have you seen that guy? He’s literally defenceless. Don’t tell me you lost, lmao. That would be lame.” Tommy dropped all the fake niceties of being a cashier. “Why are you actually here? Were you looking for sex to relieve the stress or something? Well, see, I’m an aroace minor, bitch. So get out.” Tommy deadpanned.
”Look kid, we just want coffee. We don’t want to use Lyric’s powers on you, they mess things up for people.” Blade responded helpfully. Tommy rolled his eyes—he was well aware of Lyric’s powers, thanks.
”Jesus, aggressive today, are we? Trust me, I’m aware of Lyric’s powers. Guy really gave me severe nausea for five weeks. Like I know your a villain and all, but jeez, Puffy kept having to clean the vomit up. Anyway, please enlighten me on what the fuck I can get you? And no, it’s not going to be the money in the counter.“ Tommy replied sarcastically, cursing a mile a minute—a smile tugging at his lips. Honestly, this situation was so ridiculously absurd that it was hilarious, like— how the fuck did Tommy keep getting himself into this shit?
”Two black coffees, a hot chocolate with two spoons of honey and a dash of whipped cream, an iced tea—flavoured peach and three muffins, please.” Lyric requested (more politely than Tommy had expected).
”Black coffees at this time of the night, mate? Alright then, fucking weirdos.” Tommy cursed under his breath as he rang the receipt up in the computer. “Your total will be thirteen pounds. What names for the order?”
”You’re really going to ask for names?” Lyric asked, an amused (manipulative) smile (smirk) on his lips. Tommy rolled his eyes. “Lyric for one of the black ones and the hot chocolate, Blade for everything else.”
”Yes, shut the fuck up.” Tommy demanded, “Go take a seat. It should take five minutes, tops. Better tip me well for doing this shit.” Tommy hummed as he moved to the back to start making their order. The absurdity of the situation was really nothing new, but it was ridiculous how two supervillains showed up at Niki and Puffy’s restaurant after a fight with one of the top heroes. Why couldn’t they have come half-an-hour earlier and let Jack kick their asses? That would’ve been so much funnier.
He went through the motions of the order with ease, almost like a second nature—an extension to his body. Making drinks came easy to him, it was never a problem. He briefly thought about poisoning them, snickering at his own thought—that would be fucking funny. He scribbled a ‘bitch’ for Lyric’s drinks, and ‘poggers’ for Blade’s.
”Order for Lyric and Blade.” Tommy called, a tray in his hand as he placed it on the counter. He found the villain’s bemused expressions hilarious, assuming they were probably there because they were the only people in the café.
”Thank- this isn’t takeaway,” Lyric stated dumbly looking at the drinks on the tray. Tommy rolled his eyes.
”You didn’t specify that, bastard. Take your coffee and muffins, eat it and get the fuck out. Money, please.” Lyric rolled his eyes and handed Tommy exactly fourteen pounds. “And I better get a motherfucking tip, bitch.” Tommy demanded woefully. The villain sighed, giving the younger a hundred pounds as he picked up the tray with ease and placed it on the table that he and Blade were sitting on. Meanwhile, Tommy stared dumbly at the 100 pounds in his hands like it was a million dollar check (which maybe for him, it was).
And when he looked back up to check if there was a mistake, the cups and food was gone, a single tray and cutlery remaining on the table that Blade and Lyric were sitting on. God, villains were fucking weird (or maybe he had dissociated again).
He wasn’t sure if he’d find out anytime soon.