Archive of Our Own

Dan had been standing inside the coffee shop for five minutes now, but his fingertips were still icy cold. Well, they’d progressed to stinging like a motherf---luffer, so that was something. Something painful, but also something good. No finger amputations in Dan's future. Always a thing to be glad for. So useful, fingers. Dan was rather fond of his, buttery and clumsy though they were.

So he breathed on them a little and rubbed them together, hoping to return enough warmth to them that they’d be inclined to stop with the whole “a thousand needles are piercing every inch of them” thing they had going on at the moment. The cup of coffee was bound to help. Dan was almost looking forward to how scorching hot it was going to feel against his skin. Apart from how christmassy coffee drinks never failed to make a dreary day less so.

And a dreary day it had been.

Sure, London was always overcast, and cold was to be expected in December, but Dan had ventured outside with esprit today. Full of joie de vivre. Ready to take whatever he could from the world, and enjoy himself doing it. (Also, Christmas shopping.)

And then he’d lost his gloves somewhere, a car had managed to run through the only puddle in a five mile radius and splash him, and his phone had run out of battery. Clearly the world wasn't on board with Dan's carpe diem plan. So a christmassy coffee drink it was, and then homewards, seeing as he hadn't found anything gift-wise either. He never should have chosen this over online shopping.

“Orange mochaccino for Dan and Connor!” the barista called, and Dan halted in the step he'd automatically taken at the sound of his own name. What were the chances there was a couple in the room who'd ordered the same drink he had and one of them just happened to share his name?

A quick glance around the room made his gaze lock with a pretty boy with a beanie tucked over his fluffy looking hair, smile wide, cheeks rosy red. Judging by the boy's quick glance at the coffee cups before he raised an eyebrow at Dan, this was Connor.

Dan smiled, took another two steps and grabbed both cups before Connor had even made it halfway across the room, or the action had caught up with his own mind. Shit, shit, shit. Why, oh, why did Dan's brain have to short-circuit around a pretty boy and pretend he could interact normally with another human being?

“Dan, I gather?” the-boy-presumed-to-be-Connor said with a winning smile and a soft American accent. Dayhn. Dan always found his own name so strange when he heard it pronounced American. Cah-nur probably felt similarly about how Dan would call him Conn-ah.

“Oh, yes, sorry, your coffee,” Dan said, when he realised he’d been staring quietly for just a touch too long, and held out one of the cups to the boy. They were the same size and content, so it didn't really matter which one he handed over, but his insides did a complicated curling thing when he caught sight of his own name where Connor curled his fingers around the cup anyway.

“Yup, I’m Dan,” he said belatedly. “You’re Connor, right?”

Connor cackled a delighted laugh, that made Dan’s lips answer with a pleasantly surprised smile. Christ, this boy didn't need to be any more adorable.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Connor confirmed, lifting his cup-free hand and the shopping bags in it to frame his face, as he drew out the “e”.

Definitely too adorable.

“Oh, good, for a second I thought I was handing you a stranger’s coffee.”

“Well, technically, you did,” Connor said, showing off Dan’s name on the cup.

“Oh, but we're ‘Dan and Connor’, haven't you heard?” Dan asked, faking wide-eyed innocence.

Connor laughed again, and then took a stumbling step closer when someone shoved past behind him.

“Maybe we should move out of the way,” Dan suggested, and held the door open for Connor when he seemed to struggle with his bags and his coffee.

“Thanks,” Connor mumbled, and somehow they found themselves standing together a little to the side of the door, Dan holding Connor's cup again as he rearranged his coat, and scarf, and - enviably - gloves.

“Well, thank you again,” Connor said with a chuckle as he took his coffee back.

“No problem,” Dan said, and found himself smiling brightly.

Connor looked at him for one, two heartbeats and then laughed again, looking off to the side.

“This is such a meet cute,” he said, cheeks even rosier now from the cold. Or... Dan’s heart stumbled excitedly at the possibility. Or.

“Only if we go in a date,” he said, barely believing the words were coming out of his mouth, and in even more disbelief that he was about to tack on, “So you’d probably best give me your number.”

Connor's eyes widened, and he laughed again.

“That was the smoothest thing I’ve ever heard” he said, eyes twinkling up at Dan like he was actually considering it.

“It was probably the smoothest thing I’ve ever said,” Dan confessed.

“Really? Oh, now you've ruined the illusion.”

Dan's face must've fallen visibly, if Connor's laugh was anything to go by.

“Give me your phone,” he said, holding out a hand.

Dan reached into his pocket automatically, and then groaned.

“Oh, shit, it died earlier.”

“Alright, I'll go old school,” Connor said with a shrug, and pulled a black felt tip pen from his pocket. He grabbed Dan's cup from his hand, and wrote down a string of numbers underneath his own name. Then, he added a heart with a little flourish.

“That was the smoothest thing I’ve ever seen. Who even carries a felt tip pen?” Dan said.

Connor grinned, took a step closer into Dan's personal bubble and rolled up onto his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

“Call me,” he said, and then turned and left Dan standing there, fingertips and every other inch of his skin prickling with excitement.

Day successfully seized after all. Way better than online shopping.