Chapter Text
It had been a long day for Marko. A long, tiring, exceedingly frustrating day. One would think people working at an university, of all places, would possess the skills necessary for a calm, sophisticated work environment, but it seemed as though the group of professors he had the displeasure to teach with had the social skills of a toddler.
A spoiled, unruly toddler, at that.
All he wanted was a cup of coffee. Hint of cream, a few pieces of sugar, and a moment of silence in the safety of a coffee shop far enough from the university to guarantee he would not be running into his students. Or his colleagues, for that matter. A small instant of peace in his otherwise hectic life. A break to ensure he would make it through the rest of the week -
“Yo, professor Marulic! Good to see ya, what can I get ya?”
... Well it was not a colleague. He could handle a student. Jim was a nice enough lad. And seeing as the boy was currently aiming a blinding grin at him from behind the counter, it’d seem sacrifices would have to be made in order for him to get his drink. He could poke his brain awake for the mandatory smalltalk. Even if it killed him a bit inside.
“Ah, Jim. Working part-time, I see?”
“Yeah! Gotta pay the rent somehow, ya know.” Leaning onto the tabletop, the already wide grin grew as the young man pulled out a notebook. “So, what’ll it be? Something with a lot of caffeine in it, I reckon?”
The boy was not wrong. “If you would, please. Some cream and a couple of pieces of sugar wouldn’t go amiss either.”
“Gotcha! Anything else?”
He would have loved to. Perhaps a donut or some chocolate chip cookies to hinder his hunger until he’d make it back home. But as the minutes in the shop ticked by, he could feel his social battery running out. Already, with just a few lines exchanged, the anxious shivers ran along his spine at the thought of having to sit and enjoy his drink here. Under the watchful eye of one of his students.
No, it simply would not do.
Reaching for his wallet, he shook his head. “Not at this time, thank you. I should be on my way.”
He paid, and settled in for a short wait at the counter, his eyes wandering around the place. A quiet and well-looked after business, by the looks of it. There were some customers sitting near the large windows opening up to the walkway outside, and the silent, pleasant jazz tunes hang in the air as a comforting background ambiance. Were it not for the fact that this was apparently a place where at least one of his students worked, he might come here more often. The atmosphere lent itself perfectly for a relaxing moment of silence after a hectic day.
“Got your order right here, prof! You still sure you don’t wanna anything else?”
Jim was bending past the counter, handing him a to-go cup with a smirk. He accepted it with a soft smile of his own. The last bits of his remaining energy flowing down the drain. “Thank you. And no, I am quite set.”
He just wanted to sip his coffee, make his way home, perhaps through the park near the apartment building he lived in. Just the thing to calm his nerves. A single moment of true rest before he’d have to dive into the presently uninviting world of paper grading and lesson plans.
It shouldn’t have surprised him anymore at that point when he felt his hand collide with another once he’d turned to take his leave. With a yelp, he managed to keep his balance, but the drink he had so desperately hoped to even start, splattered across the tiled floors as the stranger behind him grabbed his arm instinctively. The sheer weight of the other man’s body forced Marko to reach back for the counter, trying to halt both his own and the stranger’s flailing.
The gruff voice spoke out, startled and more than a bit embarrassed, by the sound of it.
“Oh fuck! I’m so sorry, I thought you were gonna step to the side -”
Now having the chance to turn around properly, Marko laid his eyes upon the person who had so rudely ran him over, apparently by mistake. The man he found staring back at him was, there was no two ways about it, built like a brickhouse. Broad shoulders, tall frame - Marko not being a short man himself - and brown hair falling partly over his clear, brown eyes.
For a brief moment, the spilled coffee currently spreading by his feet was the furthest thing from his mind.
It took him a while to realise the man was still talking, now pushing past him, gentler than before, to take a pile of napkins from the counter.
“So sorry, should have been watching where I was going, didn’t mean to just bump into you like that -”
“It’s no matter,” Marko found himself saying. Which was a lie, but at his tired, stunned state, he was allowed one, wasn't he? “No real harm done.”
“You’re sure?” The brown eyes, now glancing between the half-empty cup and his face, grew visibly anxious under his gaze. “At least let me buy you a new one! Coffee, with cream and sugar, right? Extra caffeine?”
Before Marko could utter an answer, the man tossed the used napkins in the trash can and waved at Jim, who had just returned to the counter from the back. “Hey! Can you get this guy a new coffee? Same as the last? Put it on my tab, while you’re at it.”
With a nod, and a cursory glance between his two customers, Jim doubled back to the drink station and began to prepare the replacement.
Marko was left to look at his new acquaintance in puzzlement. “You... remembered my order?”
The man shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. “Yeah, this place isn’t exactly buzzing at this time, couldn’t help but overhear. Speaking of, haven’t seen you here before.” Tilting his face a bit - a rather charming quirk - he ran his eyes up and down Marko’s body, squinting as he went. “The real proper folk rarely wander into out-of-the-way places like this. How did a guy like you end up here?”
If a man wearing a rather worn-out suit qualified for ‘proper folk’ here, Marko was left to wonder what the clientele of the shop usually looked like. From his brief experience, it seemed to be a place favored by the young people looking for a place to chat in relative privacy, or for the older couples to pass the time. Very much unlike the busy coffee houses near the campus. And much better for it, in his opinion. He hadn’t really thought he’d stand out, but apparently, at least to this stranger, his gray, old suit had made an impression.
Which begged the question; what was the man himself doing in the place? He did not seem to be the type to look for a quiet nook to simply watch the world go by. He seemed more like a man on a mission, the set of his shoulders tense and his hands twitching slightly on his sides. But perhaps he was too quick to judge. He could just ask. The man had done so with ease, sparking up a conversation out of thin air. Not something Marko was particularly fond of doing on a regular basis.
But something about this man caught his attention. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? To give it a try? It would be a much needed change of pace to the academic debates he was subjected to daily at work.
Clearing his throat, he allowed his own eyes to take a similar trip as the man’s had. “I could return the question. You do not appear to fit into the vast majority of the patronage here either.”
“You could,” the man said, his smirk widening. “And I’ll allow you to, right after you answer mine first.”
... Allow him to. Something about the man’s demeanor reminded him of the first year students in his class at the beginning of the semester. Eager to test the limits of his patience, poke and see how he would react. Assert dominance, as some of the youth had taken to calling it. And yet, he did not find it within himself to mind terribly.
Must have been the draining day he had just fought through.
“Fine. I am here simply because the places to be found around the university I work at are filled with students and the faculty members, and I would rather not spend what little free time I have in the presence of people I already see six to eight hours a day.”
There. He had given what one would doublessly consider a fine answer. The amused look on the stranger’s face made him second-guess himself though, especially when the widening grin grew enough to show the tip of his canine teeth. Sharp things, certainly. Biting into his bottom lip with mirth.
“Wow, the mouth you’ve got! But I guess that makes sense, posh folks from better circles do like their big words and long sentences.” The man had the audacity to wink at him, leaning his weight to one side. “From the exciting world of academics, huh? Should’ve guessed, based on vibes alone.”
Choosing to ignore what he could not quite count as an insult nor a compliment, Marko merely huffed, extending a hand to gesture at the man himself. “And what of you, then? A regular?”
“You could say that.” Reaching over his shoulder, and thus making Marko take a startled step sideways, the man took the new cup Jim was generously pushing towards them across the table, tossing some bills on the counter afterwards. “I own a dojo of sorts nearby. Self-defense classes, mostly. Some acrobatic instruction if the mood strikes. Weapon training as well.”
That would certainly explain his build. And the seemingly unshakable confidence he carried himself with.
“You should come and check the place out sometime,” the man suddenly continued, a spark of interest in his eyes. “That is, if you ever wander into this neighborhood again.”
Again, Marko found himself at a loss. People were not generally so... direct with him. Nor too keen to seek out his company, even in official, work related matters. It felt intruding, oddly enough.
And a tad bit exhilarating.
But he was getting carried away. The man was making smalltalk, dealing out invitations as a way to keep the flow of the conversation going. That’s what people did when talking to acquaintances, yes? Make insincere comments in order for the interaction to move along smoothly. He would have to find a way to derail the offer. Politely, of course. No sense in being rude to a man whose company he found himself quite drawn to. As far as strangers in coffee shops could.
“Lovely. I am afraid that is not quite the setting I would find myself enjoying.” He offered what he dearly hoped would pass as an easy smile. “Sports were never my strong suit.”
“Oh.” It was odd, but Marko thought he could sense a genuine disappointment in the undertones of the man’s words. “Well, if you ever change your mind, lemme at least give you my calling card. There’s the address printed on it, as well as the phone number. You know, in case you end up wanting to come and say hi.”
The man dug out a small piece of paper from his wallet, alongside of a pen. He scribbles something onto the card, too small for Marko to distinguish from afar.
Soon after, the card was shoved into his hand, a firm squeeze of a strong fingers making sure it stayed in his grip. “No pressure, would just be neat to cross paths again, is all. And maybe it’s a bit self-centered of me to say, but I think I could teach you a thing or two. Just for shits and giggles, you know.” The infectious grin was back in full force, and Marko found his ability to stay immune was faltering further every time he witnessed it. “First lesson’s free, by the way.”
He didn’t have time to respond - not that his rebooting brain had much to offer in that regard anyway - before the man grabbed his own coffee and made his way out of the shop. Leaving Marko to turn the card over in his hand, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers on the thick paper. Eventually his brain did catch up with him, and his eyes darted down to look at the text printed onto said paper.
~ Domagoj’s Dojo ~
Open from Monday to Friday 10:00 am - 19:00 pm.
So, the man had a name.
Below the official info, written with a red pen, was a single sentence.
Reading it made a rare blush rise to Marko's cheeks.
Private lessons offered during Sundays ;)