Work Text:
Percy stares at him from across the room. It’s mid-morning, past the rush of morning commuters stopping for their cup of caffeine, and not yet time for the lunch crowd. His laptop is open in front of him on the table, but he can’t focus on the business article he’s meant to be working on. Instead, he watches the young man who seems to be waiting. His jacket is slung over the chair next to him, the sleeves of his oxford shirt rolled to just beneath his elbows. He seems anxious, even as he pops three cubes of sugar into a small teacup.
A small plate appearing next to his laptop interrupts his (admittedly) rude staring. Percy jolts slightly and looks up to warm brown eyes that smile down at him. The server is smiling, a wide spread of her lips that looks a bit coy.
“Oh, I didn’t order anything?”
She lifts a shoulder in a somewhat shy shrug. “On the house.”
He blinks before giving her a smile back. “Well, thanks.”
“Sure.” She nods toward the table with the young man. “He’s been coming here for about six months now. It’s a bit like a show you know you shouldn’t watch but can’t help doing so.”
“A show?” he questions, but she’s already walking away.
When she disappears behind a swinging door that leads to the kitchens, Percy turns back toward the dark-haired man. He’s staring down at his phone, thumbs flying quickly across the screen. His movements pause and a soft smile tugs at corners of his lips. He places the phone face-down on the table. He takes a sip of his tea, and when he sets it back down onto its saucer, he spreads the fingers of his left hand on the table, his palm flat against the wood. The index finger of his right hand taps onto a prominent band for a moment, then Percy watches as the man twists the ring off of his finger and slips it into the pocket of his jacket.
For a moment, Percy wonders if the ring felt heavy in his hand. It’s obvious he’s married and it’s equally obvious that he wants to hide it, wants to hide the fact that he belongs to someone. He idly wonders what it would be like to walk up to him, ask for his name, and ask why he doesn’t want to wear a symbol of fidelity.
If it were him, he’d proudly wear a ring.
“Do you like it?” The server is standing next to him again, looking at him curiously.
“I’m sorry?”
“The scone.” She gestures toward the plate but notices it’s still whole. “Oh, you didn’t… I’m sorry.” She flushes a bit.
“No, my apologies,” Percy is quick to respond. He’s been so enamored by this man and what his story might be that he’s completely forgotten about the baked good. “A scone, you said?”
It’s not quite right.
The young lady rolls her eyes. “An American scone. My boss just came back from a visit and he thinks these will do well here. I, personally, have my doubts.”
“Shove off, Hermione. They’re fucking delicious.” From behind the display of baked goods comes a voice attached to a tall man with platinum blond hair. He’s rolling his eyes at the server. His eyes move to Percy. “Aren’t they?”
Percy pinches the end of the triangular piece of bread and pops it into his mouth. Blueberries burst in his mouth, crystal sugar sweetening the taste. It’s not a scone, not to him, but it is quite good. He says so aloud.
“You see? I’m the owner and baker of this place for a reason.”
“Whatever, Draco,” Hermione says with a laugh. “I never said they didn’t taste great, just that the customers are going to complain that you’re calling it a scone!”
The owner - Draco - grumbles and pours himself a tall cup of coffee before disappearing into the back.
“Hermione.” Percy tests her name out and finds he quite likes it. She tilts her head at him, a sweet smile still on her face. “I’m Percy.”
Before she can say anything, the door to the cafe opens, a small bell tinkling. Another young man walks in, glances around, and grins widely at the only other person in the room at the moment.
“May I?” Hermione touches the back of one of the chairs at Percy’s table. When he nods, she sits and rests her chin in the palm of her hand, drumming her fingers against her cheek. “The man who walked in? He’s also been coming here for about six months now.”
“Oh?”
The two of them watch as the new man - this one with sandy brown hair that curls across his forehead - walks to the table. He reaches a hand out and brushes messy black fringe from the other’s face. Percy notices a jagged scar near the right side of his temple, previously covered by his hair. The man standing brushes a thumb over it.
“Sometimes, in the morning, I see that man with a woman. Tells me her drink is for Pansy when she orders. Also likes to wave her diamond ring in my face when she hands me her card.”
“Huh.” Percy tilts his head at the new information. “Six months?”
“Mm-hmm.” Hermione absent-mindedly reaches over and breaks off a piece of the “scone.” She chews it thoughtfully as she watches the two men kiss more than is appropriate in a public setting. Public displays of affection are really not her thing. “It’s obvious he’s cheating on her but I don’t know why. When he comes in with his wife, he looks happy enough - always pulling her chair out, brushing her hair out of her face. But then I see him with this guy and well…”
Her voice trails off. Percy moves his gaze from her face to the couple. Their foreheads are together, their bodies leaned toward each other. They seem to be having an intense conversation, oblivious to the world around them.
“Well, how happy can he be with her if he’s with another person?”
Hermione stays quiet, thinking over his question while she turns her eyes to look at him. She’s noticed him recently, too, these past two months. He always shows up after the morning rush with his laptop, typing away, ordering either a coffee, black with one sugar, or one of their lemonade specials. He’s always alone, but never looks lonely.
“What about you?” The words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them. For a second, Hermione is mortified.
Percy glances at her. He lets out a low chuckle. “Me? I like to think I’m sweet. My mum says so even if my siblings disagree.” When Hermione doesn’t respond, he blinks slowly. “I’m not one to two-time anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I…”
A stifling tension wraps around them suddenly. Percy’s smile slowly leaves his face, giving way to an uneasy feeling. He’s never really been confident around women and now he just feels bereft.
“Thanks for the scone,” he says softly. “Or whatever your boss brought back from America.”
Hermione knows a dismissal when she hears one, but she knows this is her own doing. She gives him another small smile and stands, going back to the counter where she begins wiping down the glass display cases. Percy watches her for a few seconds before he forces himself to turn back to his laptop. He takes a deep breath, then begins typing. Every now and then, he’s distracted by a customer walking in. More often than not, his attention turns to the two men, who are now standing up and getting ready to leave.
Both standing, he notices that the married man is shorter than the other. His tongue darts out to lick at the thumb that wipes at the corner of his mouth. Together, they laugh loudly - maybe too loudly - as the shorter man pulls on his jacket. It plays out like a film, a scene in slow motion, as Percy watches the ring fling out from the jacket’s pocket, and watches it fall to the floor.
Percy turns his head slightly, catching Hermione’s eye, and the two of them seem to hold their breath at the same time. The taller man squats, picks up the ring from the floor, and stoically holds it out. In the quiet cafe, Percy hears, “Don’t want to lose that now, do you?”
So he knows. That man knows he’s the other person. The ring goes back onto the young man’s left ring finger, but they leave holding hands.
“That’s a twist I didn’t see coming.”
Hermione is back at his table, this time to pick up the now empty plate and his coffee. “Would you like another?”
“I- I think I’m good for today, Hermione, thanks.”
“Alright, well, have a good rest of your day.” She turns to leave but he calls out her name again. “Yes?”
“Are you - I mean, I’m no good at this usually, but - that is to say…”
Percy takes a deep breath, thinks about how a man could forget a woman for another, about how everyone might have a secret, about how loneliness might sometimes be better than the reality he’s seen. Then he looks at Hermione, with her bright eyes and cautious smile, like she’s waiting, hoping, and he decides it might be time to take a chance.
“Would you like to maybe have a drink? With me? When you’re not working?” He stumbles over the questions and feels a bit stupid, but then she places her free hand on his shoulder, a strangely comforting touch. He lets out an exhalation. “Or maybe even just a drink here when you’re off? At least until we get to know each other a bit better?”
“I’ll go ask Draco if I can have an early lunch. It’s quiet today.”
He watches her go to the back. His heart feels like it’s thudding harshly in his chest, nerves starting to take over. When the swinging door opens again, it’s the tall owner. He walks over and for some reason, Percy feels the need to stand. They’re about the same height, but his grey eyes are calculating, studying Percy.
“You liked the scone?”
“What?” Percy is so thrown off by the question, that he blinks rapidly. Draco stands there, so Percy shrugs. “Look, man, it was good but it’s really not a proper scone.”
Draco narrows his eyes and makes a hmpf sound. But then he nods. “We don’t know you, but you seem like a good bloke. You seem to be pretty standard in terms of your purchases and you tip well.”
“Thanks?” This is the strangest conversation Percy has had in a long while.
“She’s like a sister to me, so I don’t trust you yet. But stay here. I’ll make you two some sandwiches and I’ll leave you alone.” He points a finger at Percy’s face. “I’m watching you, though. Don’t fuck it up.”
The conversation ends and then Hermione is standing in front of him, her face tilted up, an impish grin on her face. “Sorry about that. Still want to have lunch with me?”
The confusion and uncertainty unfurls from his chest and Percy suddenly starts laughing. “Yes. Yes, I do.”