Chapter Text
There was an abundance of small establishments, cafés and otherwise okayish sources of food in the streets of New York. Heck, just hit up some street vendor for some churros or an overpriced crepe or whatever. Food was kind of easy to get and yet Harley, resident food enthusiast and young adult with money to spend, was going hungry. Absolutely unacceptable.
He had reached the point of hungry where he wanted to eat immediately but everything sounded incredibly unappealing. Even the churros which was a scandal he couldn’t wrap his head around in his current hangry state so he had decided to completely ignore it until later.
As it was, he’d eat literally anything that sounded okayish and he seriously just needed to sit down somewhere, get away from the car honking and sound of heels clicking on asphalt and just relax for a minute.
Harley’s sluggish gaze settled on a sign that read something along the lines of ‘Parking’ and ‘Bakery’ - he honestly didn’t care. Bakery sounded good thought, bread was the superior form of nourishment in this world after all. He crossed the street in true New Yorker fashion and entered the small café. The bell above the door was almost too much of a cliché for Harley’s taste but he was hungry and his eyes were already consuming the words written on the big chalkboard above the counter. It was all handwritten in a neat cursive script, different colors and small drawings rounding out the menu.
The offered drinks weren’t much out of the ordinary, a splash of youthful hipster vibes thrown into the mix just for the sake of going with the trends. This was New York, youthful hipsters were a large group of customers you didn’t want to miss out on. Who did you think gentrifies all the neighborhoods around here, huh?
Not that Harley would know anything about that but still. Chinatown was slowly but surely losing its China to diverse young adults working in the media industry. Apparently.
Harley sighed tiredly, choosing to go for something simple because he didn’t understand the fancy drinks. Coffee was coffee, was it not?
His eyes traveled down, passing the person behind the counter and settling on the display case. An array of different pastries was lined up and Harley had to admit his hangry state actually dwindled a little bit - at least the angry part. Those things looked good, great even. Good enough for it to be difficult deciding which one to go for. Some of those things he didn’t even know what they were, even with the small name cards. Like seriously, what was a Unicorn Flare? Or a Stardust Miracle? Only one way to find out because Harley was not about to eat anything catered towards e-girls and their weird pastel food cravings.
He looked up at the person behind the counter and needed a moment to take in the picture before him.
The barista - was this the right term? - was a young guy with dark brown glasses perched on his nose. The kind which had suddenly become trendy in the last year but Harley didn’t know much about glasses fashion except for fancy sunglasses. The guy’s curly hair was swooped back carelessly with some strands falling into his face stubbornly. Much like Harley’s hair, it must be a hit or miss, some days it looked effortlessly styled and some days it looked like a huge mistake.
Funnily enough, the barista was not already staring at him in disapproval for taking so long to check his options, instead he hadn’t even looked up from the papers he was focusing on. They were stapled together at the top left corner and it looked like quite a stack. Harley tried taking a closer look but the words he could see were upside down and not very helpful. The footnotes hinted at some sort of research paper but he couldn’t be sure. The blue color and slightly bigger and kind of wonky font was a little unusual though.
Whatever this guy was reading, it must have been captivating because even after several more moments of silent waiting he still hadn’t noticed his new customer. Harley and his stomach both agreed they should make themselves known so he cleared his throat while his stomach gurgled unintelligently.
The guy glanced up, brown eyes displaying confusion for all of two seconds before it shifted into realization and he jumped up onto his feet immediately. The paper was put away somewhere on the counter out of sight hastily and he smoothed a hand down the front of his apron out of habit.
“Hi,” he said, a sweet but slightly frazzled smile appearing on his face. “Sorry, what can I get you?”
Harley, having forgotten what he wanted to drink upon being presented such a disarming smile took another glance at the blackboard to find what he had picked out again. “Uh… a latte with almond milk?”
The barista hummed, typing the order in with practiced ease. “Anything else?” he asked once he was done and glanced up again.
Damn, those eyes were really attentive. Harley glanced at the pastry display to escape the gaze and gather his bearings. His stomach gurgled. “Do you have anything without fairy dust or unicorn sparkle?” he asked, too late realizing it might have come off as too snarky for some poor, minimum wage, sleep-deprived, college-aged barista but the guy just snorted. “Literally just fancy words for the regular thing.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You more into sweet things or looking for an actual meal?”
“Both if you have ‘em.” Because Harley. Was. Hungry.
“Sure.” The barista leaned back to take stock of what he had on hand. “So the cinnamon buns are really good for dessert. I’d take a sandwich as an actual meal. This one is with egg, tomatoes and bacon. Usually more for breakfast but I eat it all the time.” He pointed at Stardust Miracle and then at Eggception. Harley both hated and loved this place already. “Yeah, okay,” he reached for his wallet in his back pocket, “I’d eat a soggy taco at this point.”
The barista made a face in sympathy. “Those things are better than a soggy taco, trust me.”
Harley could stop himself before he said something stupid like ‘I do’. Nice safe, Keener. Instead, he just nodded and fiddled with the bills in his wallet while the guy typed in the rest of his order. “Alright, that’s 8,95 please.”
Harley had found the smallest bill he had. Grant was staring at him disapprovingly like giving him away was a personal offense to his person. He wouldn't miss that 50 dollar bill in his wallet, Harley decided and handed it over. The barista took it and typed the amount into the register. Harley only now realized the guy had a name tag with a few small stickers on it, stickers of tiny fish and a whale at that. Peter, his name was Peter. And he had a name tag with fish stickers. Harley took another look at him but quickly realized he couldn’t say whether or not the guy looked like a Peter because this was literally the first time he had ever met someone named Peter in person. Wasn’t Peter a pretty common name? Why had Harley never met one before? Was there a secret society of Peters who had sworn to never cross Harley’s way? If yes then he needed to figure out why and why one of those secret society Peters had now come out of hiding on this particular day.
“There you go.”
He was shaken out of his thoughts and blinked twice to focus. Peter was holding out Harley’s change which he accepted.
For one moment he thought about giving one Jackson as a tip but Peter was already busy preparing his order and the moment was gone. Harley pondered about his options before spotting a tip jar and discreetly sliding one of the twenty-dollar bills into it. Double the amount of his purchase as a tip was maybe a bit overkill anyway. Most would be suspicious about that, especially from a college-age guy like himself. He was aware he didn’t look poor per se but also not like he could throw money out of the window without even noticing a dent in his bank account. It was better to act according to people’s assumptions rather than proving them completely wrong in such cases.
“You wanna sit down or to go?” Peter asked and Harley made his decision in a slip second. “For here,” he blurted and then wondered why he hadn’t said it like a normal person.
“Alright,” Peter chirped. “You can go pick a spot, I’ll bring it over in a sec.”
Harley wanted to protest but one glance around told him there were only two other people and obviously no line behind him. Peter had been reading so there hadn’t been much to do before either. He was probably happy about having something to do for a few minutes at least so Harley swallowed any protests and slipped onto the bench on the wall facing the counter. Might as well take advantage of the view while he was here. Peter was nice to look at.
Okay, Harley’s brain, shut up. We’re not entering that derogatory territory. Stop that. Fucking lizard brain. You are a respectable young man and Peter deserves to be treated with the same amount of respect regardless of his oblivious attractiveness.
Harley slumped in on himself and fished his phone out of his pocket as not to appear like a creep. There were no important unread messages, only a few emails that he didn’t need to pay any attention to. Instead, he refreshed his Instagram timeline which he hadn’t done since breakfast and was decently proud of himself for finding a place with free wifi. After two minutes of scrolling, some concealed staring from behind his phone and the almost soothing noise of the machines promising coffee Peter walked around the counter with a tray in his hands and Harley sat up giddily. He allowed himself to take a complete, albeit quick, sweep of Peter’s entire frame and noticed the worn-out converse and the rolled-up hems of his blue jeans. There were a few tears and rather distressed areas but Harley couldn’t decide whether it was fashion or from wear and tear. Either way, it looked good.
“Here you go,” Peter said in that endearingly cheerful not overly fake tone of voice that made Harley want to smile. “Enjoy.”
And with that, he was already on his way back before Harley’s brain could come up with anything to say other than a belated ‘thanks’. He shook his head, the smell of coffee promising a more wakeful state of mind so he got started on that. It was good. Not the best because Harley has had all sorts of fancy coffee in his life but it was pretty good for a random café in the streets of New York. The sandwich was amazing though and the cinnamon bun had just the right balance of dough and cinnamon. It was easy to relax and enjoy his treats with the noise of the streets thankfully being kept away. The soft beats of music were not obnoxiously trying to be relevant but faded into the background.
Once the hangry monster inside of Harley’s stomach was satisfied with coffee and treats he dared to look back towards the counter. Peter was perched on his stool again, a wad of papers in one hand while supporting his chin with the other and reading. Harley was seated at the opposite wall but the café wasn’t terribly big so he could see the other’s face just fine. Peter’s eyes sometimes switched back and forth quickly as if he was reading something several times or jumping back and forth as if he wasn’t reading at all. His posture seemed relaxed though and Harley assumed he was actually invested in whatever his reading material was or he would have noticed being stared at for several minutes straight.
Harley wondered what exactly it was Peter was reading. It sure seemed interesting but it obviously wasn’t a regular book and Peter didn’t look like the kind of guy who printed out fanfiction to read it on the job. Whatever it was, Harley was intrigued simply by the desire to know. His thirst for knowledge stretched further than just engineering and coding much to his dad’s disdain.
He tapped an alternating rhythm onto the table with the fingers of one hand while he stared, considering his options. One of them was simply leaving because what he came here to do, relax and eat something, was accomplished therefore he had no reason to stay. Then again, Peter might just be the perfect reason.
A specimen like him was allowed to steal some of Harley’s attention as he had no otherwise pressing matters to tend to. It wasn’t just the paper that intrigued Harley after all. He could appreciate people like Peter who had this likable aura floating around them, who didn’t even need to do anything for people to feel sympathetic towards them. All Peter had done in the last half hour was reading and doing his job as a barista but Harley already thought of him as a nice guy. Well, he looked nice too which was an appreciated bonus.
Usually, Harley was very confident in saying he wasn’t shy. The setting he had grown up in would shape a person this way but Harley was naturally outgoing and sometimes a bit too uncaring. Usually, he wouldn’t debate this long and just do it but for once he wanted to do it right. Not come off as some brassy guy who thought the world would bend to his every wish. It wasn’t the way he was but it was the way he came across sometimes, he was well aware of this. Confidence came to a price. So, to not come across this way he had to at least analyze his situation a little bit and come up with a strategy.
He could go up to the counter and order something else, maybe something to go so he had a way out in case the experiment would blow up in his face. Or he could just be brassy and ask for a date, assuming Peter was even into that which… Harley squinted at the guy, willing his very broken gaydar to please just work for once but nope, nothing happened. No sudden realization or knowing feeling overcame him. He was just squinting at a guy all the way across the café. Great.
Judging from Peter’s overall look he could determine absolutely nothing because gay people, much to other peoples’ shock, did not collectively dress a specific way to signalize their sexuality. They weren’t birds for fuck’s sake. All he got from Peter’s look was him probably going more for a comfortable look than something extravagant. Then again, he was on the job so maybe they had some sort of dress code he had to adhere to.
Geez. Harley flopped back against the backrest of the bench and blew out a quiet breath. He really shouldn’t enter any sort of detective field. He was awful at this and all this analyzing and staring had earned him exactly nothing. No plan of action, no further information to help him navigate. He had no layout he could follow, no rules or coding, no script, nothing. These were uncharted waters and Harley did not like it one bit.
His right eye twitched in annoyance as realization dawned upon him. Or something akin to realization because he didn’t want to admit he was actually feeling a bit nervous for once. He could talk to people in power no problem, navigate social interactions of the highest class but hand him some cute guy in a bakery and suddenly the computer in his brain malfunctioned. Unbelievable. Truly and utterly unbelievable. His dad would cackle in delight if he ever got wind of this so Harley swore to take it to the grave. This and he decided to fuck the malfunctioning of his brain and his nervous system because he was fucking Harley Keener and when the chips were down he could still just book it out of the door and never come back. The chances of ever randomly meeting someone again in freaking New York were one in literally eight million. He should be fine.
Harley grabbed his tray with the empty cup and place and quietly put it into one of the trolley thingies before approaching the counter again. Another attempt at figuring out what the paper ended in yet another failure because Harley, as talented and amazing as he was, could still not read anything upside down without looking like a complete idiot.
This time it took Peter only a few moments to notice the shadow. He glanced up and realized it wasn’t just a play of the light. The sweet smile was back and Harley found himself unable to resist the urge to smile back. Something about Peter made him feel strangely happy to be here.
“Would you like anything else?” Peter asked as he straightened up, the paper being put down on the counter again. Harley’s eyes followed the motion, ignoring the ‘your number’ his broken computer spat out. “What’s that?” he asked instead, making sure to sound genuinely curious and not nervous or anything.
Peter glanced down at the paper and his friendly smile turned into something more sheepish and guarded. “Oh it’s… just a research paper,” he said, voice getting fainter towards the end. Harley noticed but didn’t want to give up so easily.
“You read research papers? For fun or for university?” Harley paid special attention to his tone in order not to fall back into mean teasing which he sometimes did - especially when nervous which he obviously never was. Instead, he went for friendly and interested. A crook of his head, small eyebrow raise and easy smile, that should work. He didn’t know Peter and from his reaction to the first question, this was something important to him.
Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “Not for university, that’s… no, not really. Mostly just because it’s interesting, to be honest.”
Harley hummed, very much intrigued because rarely did people share his hobby of reading academic papers just for fun and because they were interesting. “Can I see?” This time he didn’t have to pay special attention to his tone, knowing Peter shared this particular hobby of his was enough to get him genuinely excited. Peter flipped the paper so Harley could see the first page and made an approving sound. “Banner and biochemistry. You have good taste, my friend. What do you think of it?”
Peter blinked in surprise, his expression shifting to something less guarded and more intrigued. “Well, I’m like barely two pages in but I like his take on stem cells. I wanna know what his conclusion is.”
“This the first work of him you’re reading?”
“Nah, read all the ones I could find until now. I kinda trust Banner the most when it comes to cells. Just… feel like I don’t have to question anything when he writes it.”
Harley grinned. This was the exact same way he felt about Bruce Banner. “If you liked his past papers you’re gonna like his conclusion here as well,” he said and pointed towards the paper. “Made me want to try my hand at biochemistry but it’s really not my strong suit.”
“You read it?” Peter asked and gone was the reserved expression. He was fully invested now and Harley couldn’t deny falling a bit in love with a guy he literally did not know simply because of his enthusiasm for science. This guy read those papers for fun, folks. Where are you gonna find a man like that?
“Not completely but the gist of it. Had a lecture on it.” Harley said because he couldn’t really say he had Bruce Banner explain his research to him in person as he went. It was hella cool but he sadly couldn’t say it without ruining all chances for a normal conversation. Would have probably earned him a lot of bonus points though.
“Ah man, I wish more people would read these,” Peter sighed. “This is literally so cool.”
Harley grinned and hummed. “I think most people don’t want to invest the time to understand ‘em. If you’re not into this whole science thing you probably don’t care about stem cells.”
“But it’s so cool,” Peter insisted like he genuinely couldn’t understand why people would think otherwise.
Harley laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I know. Makes me wanna go off when people don’t care about those things. Same with code. When I finally get it to work and people don’t get why I obsessed over it for weeks straight and lost sleep just to get it right.” He shrugged. “But it’s nice when someone has the same appreciation for those things.” He grinned at Peter who grinned back, a sudden mutual understanding blossoming between them.
“Well, fellow nerd,” Peter said. “Can I get you anything else?”
Harley had to decide in a split second but he was already talking before he could stop himself. “No, no, I was just curious about what you’re reading. You were really invested so I thought maybe fanfiction.”
Peter, not having expected this, snorted at the absurdity. “Printed out fanfiction on the job?” he asked and Harley shrugged. “Who knows?”
Peter shook his head. “No fanfiction.”
“Just science.”
The small laugh Peter tried to hide made Harley feel like he had just finished a coding project he had been stressing out over. He basked in his silent victory for a moment before deciding he should go while he had not yet fucked anything up. “Alright, I gotta go but I like you, Peter,” he said and pointed at the barista who looked both amused and flustered. “You are a man of taste and I can appreciate that.”
Peter snorted bemusedly. “Alright, fellow man of taste.”
Harley clicked his tongue and sent Peter a hopefully charming smile. He was usually pretty good at this. A two-finger salute and a chill ‘see ya’ accompanied his exit and Harley decided not to think about that. Instead, he walked away like he had a purpose and took another look at the sign above the café to burn ‘Parker - Bakery and Pastry’ into his brain because he was so coming back here.