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ghosttap65 · 5 months

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in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

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ghosttap65 · 5 months

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- Another Coffee Shop Au

Word count: 2.5k~

Description: Coffee shop au where Alex is shamelessly flirting with Henry, but Henry thinks Alex is dating Nora.

Chapter 2

Edited by: @morbific-or-felicific

Chapter 1:

Alex groans and squints at his laptop screen where the words are starting to blur together. He contemplates digging his glasses out of his bag, but he looks around at all the people in the busy coffee shop and decides against it. He opts for ordering himself another cup of coffee instead.

He stands up and stretches his limbs, hearing them pop, before heading up to the counter. “Large coffee, one sugar, and a sprinkle of cinnamon, thanks,” he tells the barista, who probably has his order more than memorized by now. While he waits for his coffee, his gaze strays to a blond man writing furiously in a notebook, a look of deep concentration on his face. There are different books and papers spread out across the table he’s at. Alex thinks he must also be a student. He hair looks soft, but messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it a lot recently. His eyes are clear blue and focused on his writing. He’s gorgeous.

As he watches, the man stops to take a sip of his drink; Alex wonders what it is. He wants to go over and talk to this gorgeous man. Find out what he’s writing, see if he actually is a student, and ask him why he writes by hand instead of typing. But his essay is due at 8:00pm, and he really needs to finish it, so he collects his drink from the barista and sits back down at his table.

When he looks back up again after submitting his essay, the blond man is gone, having taken his books and papers with him. Alex supresses a sigh.

The next time he spots the blond man, Alex is at the coffee shop with Nora. He’s attempting to read the assigned chapters in his textbook, and Nora is doing whatever she does for her job. Data analysis, numbers, something. Alex isn’t totally sure. He looks up when he hears the little bell chime, signalling that someone is entering the coffee shop. The blond man looks as gorgeous as he did the first time Alex saw him. Golden hair, crystal clear blue eyes, and a tall, lean figure. Alex hadn’t noticed how tall he was last time because he hadn’t seen him standing. But looking at him now, he realizes he must be at least six feet, if not a little taller.

The man sits down at the same table by the window he had been occupying last time. He reaches into his bag and pulls out his papers and books, carefully arranging them around the table, before pulling out his notebook and a pen.

Alex is snapped out of his daze by Nora literally snapping her fingers in front of his face. “You’re supposed to be working, remember? Not drooling over the innocent coffee shop patrons.”

“I wasn’t drooling” Alex grumbles, but he picks his highlighter up again and focuses his attention back on his law textbook. He wishes he hadn’t asked Nora here to keep him focused on the work he was struggling to stay ahead on. The reading is tedious and boring, but Alex really needs it for the case study he has to start. He’d much rather go flirt with the hot, mysterious guy who hand writes his papers, though.

Alex works with Nora in mostly companionable silence until closing. Trading little quips back and forth, and drinking unholy amounts of coffee between the two of them. Once again, when Alex glances at the table by the window after he’s finally finished with school for the day, the blond man is gone.

Alex starts going to the coffee shop more frequently after that. Even when he isn’t desperately behind on his mounting pile of course work and readings. He’s not doing it in the hopes of seeing the gorgeous blond man again. Absolutely not. He just enjoys the ambiance of the coffee shop. And it helps fuel his caffeine addiction.

***

Henry looks up when someone slides into seat across from him. He starts when he sees that it’s the beautiful man that’s always pouring over textbooks or typing at his laptop. Or with his stunning girlfriend. Henry often sees them working together at their cozy table tucked into a corner at the other side of the coffee shop. They seem happy and comfortable together. Like they’ve known each other for a long time. Like there’s a lot of love between them.

“Hey, gorgeous. I’m Alex,” the man, Alex apparently, says with a lopsided grin. It’s unfairly endearing. Henry tries to ignore the little stutter in his heart at the nickname. Girlfriend he reminds himself. Alex has a girlfriend.

“Er, Henry.” Henry awkwardly reaches his hand across the table to shake Alex’s hand. Alex looks amused before indulging Henry, and shaking his hand.

“What are you working on? I always see you with books and papers all over your table. Are you a student?” Henry blinks. Alex has noticed him before.

“Uh, no actually. I studied English Literature at Oxford back in England, but now I’m working on an anthology of sorts. It’s a kind of mixture of different queer stories throughout history mixed with personal stories and anecdotes about the struggle of being queer in modern day.”

“Holy shit, that’s so fucking cool.” Alex picks up one of the papers on his table. It’s a letter, Alexander Hamilton to John Laurens. “I wish I had read something like that when I was younger. Might have helped me get my shit together and figure out that I was bisexual a lot earlier.” Alex looks back up at Henry, and Henry’s breath catches in his throat when he sees the way his long eyelashes fan across his cheeks.

“Thank you.” Henry ducks his head a little, trying not to feel any type of way about the revelation that Alex is into men. He fails. “What about you? Are you a student?”

“Yeah, I’m in my first year of law school at NYU. I’m going to be a civil rights lawyer.” Alex launches into a rant, and his eyes spark when he talks about the kind of law he’s going to practice, and the people he’s going to help. “Mind if I join you, sweetheart? I work better when someone’s keeping me accountable. I’ll buy you a cup of whatever you’re drinking.” Alex nods towards Henry’s empty mug.

“Not at all.” He starts to clear a space on the table. “And it’s Earl Grey tea if you’d be so kind.” Alex wrinkles his nose at that.

“Tea?”

“Yes, well. I suppose I haven’t spent quite enough time in the U.S. to want to get my caffeine from bean juice.”

“We’ll just have to fix that now, won’t we?” Alex sets his laptop on the space Henry had cleared for him before getting up and walking to the counter. When he returns a few minutes later, he’s holding two mugs, Henry’s tea, and a coffee for himself. “Are you sure you don’t want some of my coffee? I don’t mind sharing.” Alex winks; Henry coughs and hides his blush behind his tea. Alex isn’t flirting, he’s just obsessed with coffee like Americans are. And he doesn’t have his girlfriend’s company today, so he settling for Henry’s instead.

When Henry walks into the coffee shop the next morning, he’s surprised to see Alex at his table by the window. Alex doesn’t see him right away, and Henry hovers awkwardly. That table is Henry’s table. He always uses that table, and Alex knows that. But Alex is also very focused on whatever he’s working on, and Henry doesn’t want to interrupt him. And there’s two mugs on the table; one that’s clearly Alex’s, and one that’s placed in front of the seat opposite him. Alex is probably meeting his girlfriend here. Henry shouldn’t get in the middle of their time together.

He’s about to go sit down at another table, one without the sun’s warm rays filtering through the window right next to it, when Alex looks up and catches him staring. To Henry’s surprise, Alex’s face lights up, and he waves Henry over to join him.

“I was hoping to run into you again today, sweetheart. I got you your favourite, leaf juice,” Alex teases, gesturing at the mug on the table. Upon closer inspection, Henry realizes that it is, in fact, a cup of Earl Grey tea.

“You didn’t even know if I’d be coming here today.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist my charms.” Alex grins, and Henry laughs and hopes it’s not too obvious how right Alex is. Henry pulls his notebook and pen out of his bag, and takes a sip of his tea. It’s still warm. “Why are you hand writing your anthology? Wouldn’t it be a lot easier for you just to type it out?”

“I like the way it feels when I write it out by hand. It feels more personal, more real. Typing just always seemed so – detached. There’s no character to it.” Henry can’t decipher the look on Alex’s face.

They sit together for a few hours, and Henry doesn’t get nearly as much work done as he had intended. When he isn’t answering Alex’s endless questions, he’s trying not to make it too obvious that he’s staring. Alex probably gets ogled enough; Henry doesn’t need to add to that.

***

Alex has absolutely no idea what the fuck Henry’s deal is. When he first sat down in front of him and called him gorgeous, Henry had blushed prettily, seemingly very pleased. And every time after, when Alex called him sweetheart or baby, or made a comment about how easily Henry could probably pick Alex up throw him around a little bit, Henry would blush and look very happy for about two seconds before he awkwardly changed the subject.

Alex is usually very good at reading people, it’s something he prides himself on. But he can’t seem to figure Henry out. Alex decides to up his game a little. He wears a tight black t-shirt that hugs his body in all the right ways and jeans that sit low on his hips and make his ass look amazing. He spends extra time in the mirror that morning styling his hair so that it looks perfect and effortless, like he just rolled out of bed like this.

Over the past two weeks, they had fallen into a routine of sorts. Alex would go to the coffee shop every day, and every day, Henry is already there, or shows up sometime later, usually not too long after Alex gets there. They sit at the table by the window, warmed by the mid-July sun. On the days that Alex gets there first, he makes sure he always has a cup of Henry’s pretentious tea waiting for him, and on the days when Henry gets there first, there’s always a cup of coffee sitting in Alex’s spot. One sugar, cinnamon.

Alex catches Henry checking out his ass when he stands up to get a coffee refill, and he smirks, adding a little more sway in his hips than is strictly speaking necessary. To his disappointment, however, Henry looks mortified that Alex noticed him checking him out. Henry avoids eye contact with Alex almost entirely for the rest of the day.

Fine, if Henry was going to insist on playing hard to get, Alex was just going to try a little harder.

***

Henry looks up from his notebook when he hears the chime of the bell, and almost blacks out. Recently, for reasons Henry can’t even begin to fathom, Alex has taken to torturing Henry by wearing progressively tighter t-shirts and tank tops, and pants that make his arse look like sin. Yesterday, when Henry came to take his usual spot across from Alex, he had been wearing a snug, dark grey button down with the top four buttons undone. Henry had written approximately three words all day, and had spent the rest of the day trying and failing not to stare at Alex’s chest. That he waxes apparently. Henry is reacting very normally to that information. It had taken all of Henry’s willpower not to drop to his knees right there in the middle of the coffee shop.

Today though, Alex is wearing a cropped, dark red jumper that gives Henry an amazing view of Alex’s narrow waist and perfect abs, and tight fitting black jeans that sit so low on his hips that Henry can see a thin line of Alex’s boxers. Henry wonders vaguely if he can convince Alex to let Henry take a body shot of tea out of his navel. Girlfriend. Alex’s perfect girlfriend that he loves very much, and talks about all the time.

Henry forces a polite smile onto his face and tears his eyes away from Alex’s torso and up to his face. Which is a mistake. Because Alex has decided to wear eyeliner today. And just a touch of mascara to accentuate his already perfect eyelashes. The eyeliner is black, and it traces Alex’s upper and lower waterline. It makes his eyes piercing. The overall effect is devastating. Henry isn’t sure if he’s in heaven or hell.

“Hey sexy, how are you doing this lovely Sunday morning?” Alex says, all Texan drawl and fluttering eyelashes. Hell. Henry is definitely in hell.

“I’m well. How are you?” Henry asks politely.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Henry. I literally can’t wear any fewer clothes without getting thrown out of this coffee shop for public indecency. What’s it gonna take to get you to want me?”

“I- what?”

“I’ve been trying to get you to reciprocate my flirting for weeks. Did I do something wrong? Whatever it is, I’m sure I can fix it. Give me a chance. I’ll take you on a real date, somewhere outside of this coffee shop.”

“Alex. You have a girlfriend.” Henry’s a little perplexed that he’s the one reminding Alex that he’s already in a relationship. He rather thought Alex was getting fed up with Henry’s incessant staring.

“I do? And who is this mystery women that I’m dating?” Alex’s words are laced with amusement, and a spark dances in his eyes.

“Nora?” At this, Alex bursts out laughing.

“Henry. Nora is my best friend, nothing more. I mean, we had a thing once, for about a summer when I was eighteen. It’s ancient history. She’s engaged to my sister now.”

“She’s what?”

“In fact, I rather need a date to their wedding. Be my plus one, sweetheart?” Alex laces their hands together on the table. Henry doesn’t pull away.

“Do you mean to tell me you’ve been flirting with me this entire time?” Henry asks faintly.

“My opening line was literally ‘hey, gorgeous’. I have been wearing tighter and fewer clothes to a coffee shop. I’m literally wearing glitter right now.” Henry realizes that Alex is right. There’s a light dusting of glitter on Alex’s cheekbones; it sparkles in the pale, early morning sun.

“You know, I think I’m rather done with writing today. What do you say we go back to my place?”

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