Work Text:
It’s two classes later that Ace finally works up the courage to check his phone, and sitting there among all the notifications that come from not checking your phone in five hours, is his conversation with Trey.
Messages: mr. manager (trey)
manager trey: Of course
manager trey: Was there something wrong with it? This is pretty sudden
From the looks of it, Trey isn’t mad, just curious. Ace sighs in relief as he types back.
ace: don’t get me wrong i love my job but
ace: i was looking at my schedule earlier and realized that i scheduled one of my classes for that exact same time so i can’t make it
manager trey: Oh so this isn’t about the hours, it’s about the day
ace: yeah pretty much
manager trey: Alright, it’s no problem at all
manager trey: Just remember your classes come first, ok?
ace: i will i will
manager trey: So which day do you want?
Ace blinks at the question. He rubs his eyes, then stares at his phone again, but it remains on the screen. Trey’s letting him… pick?
ace: what?
ace: are you srsly just letting me pick?
manager trey: You know your schedule best
manager trey: If I picked for you, I might choose a day when you’re busy and we’ll end up having this conversation all over again
ace: oh right
ace: let me think abt it real quick
manager trey: Take as much time as you need
Ace turns his phone screen down and leans against the back of the bench. Thursday is his usual day, so he can’t work Friday or the weekend. It’s too close to his old workday, so Riddle can easily find him, and everyone he knows is free on those days.
That just leaves Monday through Wednesday to choose from. He doesn’t want to drag himself to work on a Monday, despite how much he loves his job, and one of his classes is Tuesday afternoon. So the only realistic choice here is…
ace: i think wednesday is good
manager trey: Just moving it back a day?
ace: mhm it works out
manager trey: Alright, I’ll write it down
manager trey: Thanks for telling me
ace: yw! i’ll see you on wednesday then?
manager trey: Of course
Ace slips his phone back into his pocket with a sigh (is it out of relief or regret? He doesn’t quite know) and after a few seconds, drags himself off the bench. He scrolls through all of his notifications as he trudges to the hall of mirrors, swiping the unimportant ones away.
(He pretends he doesn't feel a twinge of guilt at doing the same to Riddle's texts.)
There’s a message from Deuce asking if he can buy some batteries from the school store before heading back to the dorm, and Ace turns left for his little detour. Right as the building comes into view, he realizes he’s forgotten something in his recent exchange with Trey.
Messages: mr. manager (trey)
ace: oh yeah one more thing
ace: can you not tell riddle abt my schedule change?
manager trey: ? And why’s that
manager trey: I’m sure he’d understand
ace: no i don’t want to uh
ace: worry him
ace: he was the one who helped me pick classes during registration and. i don’t want him to think this change was his fault
manager trey: He’s not going to think like that, you know
manager trey: If anything, he’d be glad you’re prioritizing your classes
ace: but still
ace: please? gift for your favorite employee……??
manager trey: But why?
ace: just cause
manager trey: I’m not getting an answer out of you, am I
ace: nope~
manager trey: Alright, alright, I won’t tell Riddle
ace: kk thanks
ace: best manager ever!!
manager trey: Haha, thank you
manager trey: I’ve written it down, you’re good for Wednesday
ace: ty ty!
With that, Ace shifts his bag around and pushes the door to the Mystery Shop open, nodding a greeting to Sam. He strolls through the aisles, past the dusty books and questionable relics, and all the way in the back are the batteries.
Ace sorts through them and scoops a few packs into his hands, then walks back to the front and passes Sam five thaumarks. Once he’s out, he tucks the batteries into his bag, and he’s just about to head into the hall of mirrors when his phone vibrates again.
Messages: riddle <3
riddle <3: Where were you today? I thought we were going to meet at the restaurant again, and you never came.
“Damn, I was hoping he forgot,” Ace muttered, swearing under his breath. He gazes forlornly at the message; he can’t say that he was hoping to avoid Riddle by not going, because that would absolutely shatter him. Saying that it’d be better if Riddle spent more time with his boyfriend would be even worse, so Ace resigns himself to a hollow excuse.
What’s one more on top of the web of lies he’s already spun?
ace: sorry, smth came up
ace: i’ll make it up to you next time
It feels wrong to be behind the counter a day early, but as Ace ties the apron behind his back, he reminds himself that this is what he has to do. Thankfully, the coffeeshop is just as empty as it usually is, and Ace plops down in his usual chair, pulling out his laptop to read through the assigned texts.
“Ah, this is boring,” he grumbles a few paragraphs later, shutting his laptop and shoving it back in his bag. Ace glances around for something else to do, but to no avail; everything else is already clean, and there’s no customers around to distract him from his assigned reading. Then his gaze flicks to the back, and an idea pops into Ace’s head.
Their espresso machine could always use a good clean; Seven knows no one else does it but him. Ace prays that no one will come in while he’s gone, and heads into the back. He’s just about to start cleaning it out when he remembers what happened the last time he tried to use this as a distraction from Riddle. Ace crouches and peeks into the cabinets, searching each one for protective gloves, and once he’s found them, he slips them on and starts his work.
He lifts the drip tray, wiping up everything that’s splashed in (it isn’t much), and once he’s done, Ace carefully cleans the steam wand with a wet rag. Next is portafilters, then group heads.
It’s almost therapeutic, the way he knows every step of the process on instinct- unlike his emotions. Ace can’t help but zone out as he moves onto cleaning the rest, Riddle taking over his mind just like always.
I really shouldn’t be thinking about him anymore, Ace sighs internally. Riddle already has a boyfriend. Yet even as that thought flashes through his mind, Ace can’t help but feel like something’s… missing. He’s always liked the coffeeshop quiet, but now it’s too quiet, devoid of the usual chatter and smiles he’s come to associate with coming to his job.
And despite his less than stellar academic performance, Ace already knows the answer. It’s quiet because Riddle isn’t there, and the empty table sticks out like a sore thumb.
He misses Riddle. He can tell himself whatever he wants, but in his heart of hearts, Ace knows . What was once the clink of a teacup and the swish of pages is now replaced by streetside ambience, his own quiet breathing, and the click of a fully reassembled espresso machine.
Wait, click?
Ace snaps out of his Riddle-induced trance (funny how that’s only gotten worse) and glances around him. There’s sponges strewn around him, a jar of cleaning powder he never remembers getting, and two buckets of water he swears weren’t there before. The espresso machine is still sitting in front of him, practically sparkling, and miraculously, his hands are still uncut.
Ace pulls himself to his feet with a sigh and starts putting everything back where it’s supposed to. Once everything is somewhat more organized than he’d found it, he goes right back to the front, hoping to find someone, but the shop is still empty. Ace sighs and resigns himself to his assignment again, but right at that second, the bell dings and he leaps up with a grin, only to find-
“Ace?!”
Ace’s jaw drops, and he lightheartedly glares at the new arrival. “Deuce?!”
Deuce stares at him with wide eyes. “Dude, didn’t you tell me you work Thursdays? What the hell are you doing here today?”
“Can’t work that day anymore. I have a class during that time.”
“Class?” Deuce raises an eyebrow in confusion. “But you don’t have any classes tomo-”
“It’s a time conflict, ok?!” Ace slams his hands on the counter, then sighs and deflates. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout like that. It’s just… complicated.”
“If you say so. Just know we have Trey and Riddle for a reason. They can always give you advice about a problem.” Deuce glances at the board, oblivious to Ace’s internal torment. “Can I get a black coffee? Dark roast, please.”
“Yeah. Three thaumarks, gimme a bit.” Ace is gone from the counter before Deuce can say anything more, and his hands start the espresso machine without thinking. He reaches up and left to pull the jar of coffee beans down, but his hand brushes against cold metal. Once Ace has the right beans in front of him, he reaches up again to see what it is, and… oh, it’s their tin of tea leaves.
The kind that Riddle likes best, his mind unhelpfully supplies. He shoves it back inside with a grunt and slams the cabinet shut; if it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind, and Ace does not want to think about Riddle’s pretty face and smooth voice more than he has to.
…his face is red, isn’t it? Maybe he should just shut up and make Deuce’s coffee.
Despite what his roommates often imply, Riddle doesn’t like like his barista.
Yes, Ace is cute, his mannerisms are endearing, and he can hold a conversation incredibly well, but they're just friends. And no, just because he talks about Ace so much doesn't mean they're more than friends either! Ace is an interesting person, and Riddle cherishes their friendship more than anyone in their apartment can imagine.
They are just friends, nothing more to it. With that matter sufficiently settled in his mind, Riddle quietly hums a song to himself, a song that… he’s never listened to before. His brisk walk slows to a stop, and Riddle blinks as that one part loops in his head again and again. No, he’s definitely heard this one before, but he swears he’s never listened to this kind of music.
Use your brain, a voice inside him chides. Who else could it be? And that gets Riddle thinking. Who would like this type of song? It can’t be Azul; he only ever listens to classical music, an interest the two of them can both share. Jamil and Kalim like dance music, but Riddle is certain it wasn’t this kind. So where else could he have- ah.
The song loops once more, and suddenly Riddle’s back in his usual chair at 810 Degrees, Ace slumped on the table across from him with that song playing faintly from his borrowed earbud. Right… that’s where he’s heard it from.
Odd that he’d remember one of Ace’s songs, especially one that he’s so unused to, but it’s amusing to think that song from months ago has stayed with him this whole time. He’ll have to tell Ace about it when he reaches the cafe. Before long, Riddle’s turned into the familiar alley, and he pushes the door open. “Ace! I have something I want to-”
“Um, sorry, but that’s not my name.” Riddle flinches and glances up in shock. There, behind the counter, is a person that decidedly isn’t Ace, and who’s looking at him like he’s crazy. “Were you looking for someone?”
Riddle stares in dumbfounded silence for a while until it finally clicks that he’s been asked a question. “Ah- um, no. Apologies, I must’ve gotten lost. But since I’m here, could I get an espresso? To-go, please.”
Their shoulders slump in relief (because he’s not crazy, or because he’s actually ordering something? He doesn’t know) and they pull a cup out. “Alright! Three thaumarks, please. Name for the order?”
Riddle takes his wallet out and gives them the proper amount of money. “...Riddle.”
“Okay! I’ll have your drink right out.” They disappear into the back, just like he’s seen Ace do so many times, yet this one time, it feels wrong. Maybe because it’s not Ace, but instead a person he doesn’t even know the name of. It’s someone who has never taken the time to understand him and his preferences, never sat down and had long, deep conversations with him; but before he can go down that particular route, the sound of a cup being set down on the counter snaps Riddle out of it.
“Have a nice day!”
“You as well.” The bell jingles as Riddle strolls out with his coffee in hand. He slides his phone from his pocket, opens his messages with Ace, and prepares to send him a text, but…
Oh, it’s not that important. He’ll just tell Ace about it next week.
~-~-~-~-~
…is what he thinks, but when Ace still isn’t behind the counter for the second time in a row, Riddle’s certain there’s something else afoot. He pulls his phone out and scrolls through his recent messages, searching for a clue.
Messages: latte guy
riddle: Ace, are you alright? You haven’t been showing up to your job the past few weeks.
riddle: Has something happened?
Sent 12:09 PM
Ace still hasn’t read his messages but Trey has, which means that he should be coming soon, and just like Riddle predicted, Trey rounds the corner and nods in greeting once they meet each other’s eyes.
“Not often you pull me aside for something, Riddle,” Trey says with a smile. “Something you need?”
“Yes. It’s ah- about Ace…”
Trey raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What about Ace? He didn’t break the law, did he?”
“He can’t break the law if I never see him. He hasn’t been around the cafe lately, and I can’t find him around his usual spots.” Riddle crosses his arms and frowns. “You didn’t fire him, did you?”
“What? No, of course not. Ace told me he couldn’t make it to work on Thursday because he had a class that day.”
Riddle sighs in relief, shoulders slumping as he releases his bag strap. “Ok, thank the Seven. I thought something terrible had happened to him from the way he hasn’t been answering my texts.”
“No, he’s completely fine. Can’t have him dying on me, after all.” Trey chuckles, pushing his glasses up with one finger. “Why are you asking about him so much anyway? Other than his apparent disappearance, I mean.”
“I just wanted to know what day he works at the cafe now. I supposed that if anyone knew, it would be you.” Riddle gazes at the ground, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I’ve been wanting to see him again, talk about things over drinks.”
“You mean the drinks he makes you.”
Riddle laughs at the clarification. “Yes, yes, the drinks he makes me. But he can’t make me anything if I’m not there, so if you don’t mind?”
A flash of… something crosses Trey’s face, and his expression hardens. “I can’t tell you that, Riddle.”
Riddle blinks, then narrows his eyes. “What? Why not?”
“I just can’t.”
“You’re not legally obligated to hide when your employees work, and it certainly isn’t like I’m going to follow Ace home. I just want to talk to him again.”
“I’m really sorry, Riddle, but I can’t tell you that. Look, Ace doesn’t want you to know when he works, and even then, I’ve already said too much.” Trey sighs and claps one hand on Riddle’s shoulder before turning away. “Sorry I couldn’t help.” Trey strolls away, and the redhead simply stares at Trey’s back until he disappears from sight.
He’s walking away from you again, a traitorous part of his mind whispers, and not telling you what you want to hear? It’s the seeds of rebellion.
Riddle shakes his head furiously and barely holds himself back from calling out to the other. Trey isn’t abandoning him, and they’ve talked things over enough times by now for Riddle to know that he won’t be abandoned ever again- abandoned by Trey , that is.
Ace, however, is an entirely different story.
He’s been nothing but kind and sweet ever since they met, and Riddle has read enough court cases to know when someone is trying to cover up their guilt. As much as Riddle doesn’t want to think that Ace is guilty of something, he can’t lie to himself; there’s a new rift between him and Ace that only keeps growing, and he doesn’t know how to stop it.
Was something wrong with Ace? Did anything happen that Ace didn’t want to talk about?
Or the worst possibility (at least in Riddle’s mind), had he himself done something to offend Ace? There are still too many unanswered questions for Riddle to properly ascertain Ace’s guilt, but one way or another, he’ll get his answers.
At least there are only seven days in the week.
The apartment door clicks shut, and Riddle slips his shoes off as he shuts the door. “I’m back,” he calls, sipping from his coffee cup again.
“Welcome back,” Azul and Jamil chorus in unison, their voices coming from behind the couch.
Jamil stops writing on his tablet to glance at Riddle. “Class go well today?”
“Well enough.” Riddle strolls past them, gripping the cup with one hand, and barely glances at the two curled up on the sofa. “Azul, stop bothering Jamil.”
“I’m not bothering him, don’t worry. I’m just watching.” Azul’s gaze flicks to the cup in Riddle’s hands in surprise. “Coffee again? This is the third day in a row, Riddle. Do you have a test coming up?”
“No. I just like the taste.”
“Mhmm.” Jamil slips the tablet pen back into its place and gazes up at Riddle. “You know, I think this is the most caffeine you’ve had since the latte-”
Riddle glares at the two of them when he hears the word ‘latte’; he can go his whole life without ever rehashing that again. “Not another word. Don’t bring that up again.”
Azul turns to properly face the redhead and frowns. “Is something wrong, Riddle? You seem a tad bit pricklier than usual.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Is this about Ace?” Azul grins and sits up at Riddle’s flinch. “Aha, I was right! It is about him!”
Riddle sighs and shakes his head. “Azul, please. The situation is bad enough, I don’t need you meddling on top of that.”
“You wound me, Riddle. All I want to do is give advice, and to me, it looks like you really need some. So what do you say? Let us help.”
Riddle gazes at Azul forlornly, then sighs in defeat. “Alright, alright. Just let me get changed into something more comfortable first.”
Azul nods with a grin. “Of course! We’ll be waiting.” Once the redhead has turned the corner, Azul glances at Jamil with a mischievous smile. “You know what this means! Grab the notebook, Jamil. Something tells me we’re going to want to write this down.”
Shipment days, at least, give Ace something to do that isn’t sitting in an empty shop for hours and tending to the occasional customer. Once he waves goodbye to the truck driver, Ace hefts the two boxes inside and starts unpacking.
He knows one is a shipment of new coffee beans, so he cuts that one open first. There’s a bag of coffee beans from the Shaftlands, another from the Sunset Savanna, and… Ace perks up when he sees the special edition Queendom of Roses bag of coffee beans. He recognizes the brand from his high school days, but he doesn’t think he’s ever tried this specific kind.
Ace hums as he stores their new bags in the shelf and stacks the box near the back door. His mind whirs with the possibility of being able to brew a cup for himself if no one else comes in.
(Since when did he become okay with the coffeeshop being quiet? It feels so wrong, but still so, so right.)
But right as he cuts the second box open, the bell jingles. Ace sighs as he quickly pries the box open, briefly staring at all the pristine ceramic cups, and starts putting them away in the proper place. “Be right there!” He shouts, gathering them into his hands and hurriedly placing them in the shelves, trying to prepare the rest of the shop. But as much as he prepared the shop, nothing could prepare him for the familiar voice that came in response.
“Don’t worry, Ace. I’ll wait as long as it takes.” Ace’s eyes go wide and his head whips towards the front, the cups threatening to slip from his arms. As soon as the cups are all safely on the counter, Ace pulls his phone out and starts furiously typing.
Messages: mr. manager (trey)
ace: hey did you tell riddle abt my schedule change??
manager trey: Hm? No, I didn’t
manager trey: What’s wrong
ace: he’s outside. i’m in the middle of unloading the cup shipment and he just came in
manager trey: Well he did mention he’s been looking for you
manager trey: But I can promise you that I didn’t tell him anything
ace: so what he just found me??
manager trey: I would assume so
ace: that’s insane cmonnnnn
ace: i can’t do my job like this
manager trey: Can I say a few things
ace: ok what is it
manager trey: To be completely honest, I think whatever this is has gone on for long enough
manager trey: I don’t know why you’re going to such great lengths to avoid him, but it would be nice to have a happy Riddle again
manager trey: He’s been upset for the past few weeks and it hasn’t gotten any better
manager trey: Just talk to him and work out whatever is wrong between the both of you, please
manager trey: What happened to the Ace that spoke his mind no matter what? I’m sure that’d be handy right about now
ace: …
ace: k i’ll talk to him
ace: but i can’t promise that anything will change
manager trey: That’s alright, thank you Ace
Ace takes a deep breath and puts his head in his hands. He still can’t get the thought of Riddle out of his head, still can’t stop his heart from fluttering at the sound of his voice, and Trey wants them to talk it out? Hell, Ace doesn’t even know if he can look Riddle in the eye without his face going red!
But Riddle is here. Riddle came looking for him. He has the chance he’s always wanted.
Ace steels himself and steps outside, feigning surprise when he spots Riddle and ignoring the way his heart suddenly drops. “Hey, Riddle! Haven’t seen you for a while,” Ace chirps, faking a smile as he strolls up to the register.
Riddle merely raises one eyebrow. “Yes. I do wonder why that is,” he quips back, his voice flat.
Ace laughs nervously in a pathetic attempt to fill the sudden silence. When did conversation with Riddle get so difficult? “Uh, yeah. Me too.” Well, if he doesn’t have anything else, he can at least fall back on his job. “Did you want anything?”
“I wanted to talk with you.”
“Oh? You wanted that, you should’ve just told me.”
Riddle’s glare gets sharper, and he unlocks his phone to show all the messages he’d sent. “Do you honestly think I haven’t tried? Ace, you haven’t answered a single one of my texts for three whole weeks. And I have it on good authority that you changed your schedule and didn’t bother to tell me.”
Ace curses under his breath. He should’ve known better than to try arguing with someone who was studying law. Actually, scratch that, he should’ve known better than to piss off someone so obviously smart. “Ok, ok. Look, I’m sorry, Riddle. I’ve been dealing with a lot lately, cause classes are hard, and-”
Riddle crosses his arms and glares harder. “You and I both know that’s a lie.”
Ace throws his hands up in the air- to hell with his act. “What do you want me to tell you then?!”
“The truth !” Riddle sighs, his shoulders slumping, and averts his gaze. “So cut the act, and let me ask you one thing.
“Have you been avoiding me?”