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“Black coffee and a chocolate muffin for Mary,” Alex says in a monotone. A woman snatches them from the counter, her gaze not raising from her phone. Typical. After a few years in hospitality, he is somewhat used to being treated as a piece of furniture. Most days, he appreciates it - being able to fly under the radar, just for a while, can be pretty refreshing. But there are some days, like today, that it just puts him more on edge.
He glances at the corner table. The man is back again. Dark blond hair, a bit of scruff, and large clothing that he can tell hides a sleeper build. Ryan, his name is. With how many times he has written his name on a cup, it is rather ingrained into his brain. The other man must have been coming to this coffee shop a few times a week for the last six months or so. Never says a lot, but when he does it always turns out to be weirdly insightful, almost scarily so. Even so, he is a friendly face, and one that is not a hardship to look at either.
Alex strolls over, waggling an empty cup in the other’s face. “Need a refill? I’m sure more caffeine is the answer to whatever problem you are turning over in that mind of yours.”
The other man looks up. His gray eyes seem to pierce into Alex’s soul, seeing far too much. He takes an unconscious step back, the gaze extruding almost a physical weight. A slight discolouration peeks out over his collar. A burn perhaps? Alex can’t quite tell.
“Yeah, another thanks.”
“Black with a splash of milk, I assume?”
“How did you know?” A slight hint of sarcasm has snuck into his voice.
Alex snorts, leaning his weight onto the slightly sticky table. “Well, I live in hope that someday you might branch out a little. Ever tried an iced caramel macchiato with an extra drizzle of chocolate? Ours is rather good, if I do say so myself.”
Ryan cannot hide his disgust. “That sugary abomination is going nowhere near my lips. It is a literal crime against humanity. I think the fuck not. You could not pay me enough to try that thing.”
Alex cannot help but burst out laughing. The giggles escape him even as he tries to muffle them with his fist. He leans harder against the table, trying to get himself under control but to little avail.
Looking down, Alex misses the barely disguised look of shock and then anger that crosses Ryan’s face. The man grabs his phone, standing suddenly. The sharp move has Alex straightening on instinct.
“Actually, no coffee. I need to go.”
Alex watches Ryan leave, a quizzical look on his face. That seemed rather odd, he thinks. But then again, what does he actually know about the other? He shrugs and gets back to the growing queue of customers.
Alex steps out of the cafe, carefully locking the door behind him. He honestly doesn’t mind the closing shift. His co-workers tend to avoid it whenever possible, but that hour without customers, where it is just him and the mop, is weirdly soothing. It is a moment of peace in what is, quite frankly, a very chaotic life. He’ll take his wins where he can get them, even if they do come with cleaning duties.
His normal route home takes him through the back streets. The late autumn evening brings with it flurries of leaves, dancing around the nearly empty streets. He kicks at a pile, slightly delighting at the satisfying sound. Most people tend to avoid the area at night. The street lamps never quite reach far enough and the corners hold an unholy darkness. To Alex, however, the streets just feel like home.
Alex rounds a corner like any other. A hand shoots out from an alley and, before he can blink, he is pinned against a brick wall. A strong arm is against his throat, cutting off his airway. The other hand raises in front of his face and clicks, a small blue flame appearing.
“You think you can play games with me, huh?” a deep voice growls. It sounds so familiar but the decreasing amount of air in his lungs means that Alex takes a good long second to place it. Ah. Moonstrike: the city’s up and coming supervillain. He had earned that title with the recent prison break and the spate of high stakes art thefts. Alex had run into him a few times, both coming off worse for wear. But he is not in his costume right now, and that makes things far more terrifying.
“Well?” he continues. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Alex opens and closes his mouth several times, gesturing to his throat. What does the villain expect him to do like this? He very much does not have telepathy.
Moonstrike’s muscles tense before pulling back a little, just enough for Alex to breathe. He immediately takes in several loud gasps for air before bursting into a riot of coughs, still held against the wall by his neck.
Eventually recovering, he says, “Look, man, I have no idea what I’ve done to you. Could you elaborate, just a little?”
A flaming fist slams into the wall beside him, the vibrations from the impact reverberating through his skull. “Don’t act stupid. We both know you are better than that. You know exactly what I’m talking about, Sentinel.”
Fuck. How did Moonstrike figure that out? Alex had always been so careful to separate his personal life from his working life. Now that is clearly out the window. He looks up, locking gazes through the other man’s dark mask. A slight crackle of blue electricity dances across his skin - no point hiding that now, and better to be ready for when this confrontation inevitably goes south.
“So I am. How did you figure that one out?”
Even through the mask, Alex can see the confusion in the other’s eyes, but he still has no idea what he is missing. Moonstrike pauses, unconsciously scratching at a burn mark on his neck. A burn mark that looks awfully familiar …
“Oh shit. You’re Ryan, my regular.”
Ryan steps away a little, releasing his hold. “Ah.” His voice is a little embarrassed.
Alex snorts. “Yeah, I honestly had no clue until just then. I hope you’re not going around revealing your identity to everyone like that! It doesn’t seem like a very smart thing for a supervillain to be doing.”
“Fuck no.” Ryan almost sounds a bit offended.
“Though really, what gave me away?”
Ryan looks down, almost seeming … embarrassed. “You laughed. I have never heard someone make a sound so like a goose as that night on the rooftops, and then again in the cafe. It had to be you. And then things started adding up too well.”
Taken down by his laugh? Seriously? He has been in this business for years and that is what gives him away? Alex is more than a little mortified. He scratches at the back of his head, looking away. “Well that makes me feel like a bit of an idiot. So, what, you thought I had lured you to a specific coffee shop, in my civilian identity, for some sort of long con?”
“No. I just,” Ryan is stumbling over his words a little, suddenly far less confident than he was in his villain persona, “ I figured you had pinged me from the start and were just drawing things out. It’s surprisingly hard to find someone who gets my coffee quite right, as easy as it should be, and I didn’t want to lose that. And the fact that you had been faking it all that time felt like a betrayal. Stupid, I know.”
“No, not stupid at all.” The words escape Alex before he can think. The darkness is clearly making them both a lot more candid than they would normally be. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound and all that. “Finding out that my favourite regular is also supposed to be my nemesis and all that bullshit? More than a little disappointing. You know, you don’t look all that bad out of this dramatic black garb of yours.” The words are falling from his mouth but Alex is unable to stop himself.
Ryan’s eyes slowly drop to his lips and Alex visibly gulps, nervous. He flushes, the burning of his cheeks surely visible even in the darkness. Could he really …?
Alex doesn’t know which of them moves first but suddenly they are kissing, Alex’s back pressing against the brick. Ryan’s lips are chapped and his mask scratches at his nose a little but Alex doesn’t care. The warmth of his lips, the flick of his tongue, it is better than Alex imagined, those long nights alone. He could taste their shared breath, a hint of long cold coffee still lingering on Ryan’s tongue. Heat consumes him, radiating from head to toe, and Alex can feel sparks of energy jumping off him without effort.
Alex tilts his head back, Ryan’s lips trailing a path down his throat. “Oh this is going to end terribly,” he says with a gasp.
Ryan pulls back a little, lips curling into a wicked smile. “Course. So might as well go out with a bang.”