A/N: okay! Hello! I own nothing but the plot, of course. Which is a shame, because these characters are precious uwu. But anyway. I hope you enjoy it! This will be multi chapter so, this is not the end. It's actually the first non-supernatural fic I've written. Whoa. Do leave a review if you can, enjoy!

It was raining. It was raining that night too. the soft sigh that escaped the lips of Dave Strider went almost completely unheard.

He looked towards the actual Cafe. The interior was a nice balance of red, white, and blue. Red seating, blue walls, white tables and counter. It was nice. Though through the eyes of the sighing man who stared at the rain, it looked almost monochrome. Black, white, grey. The colour not quite reaching him, making him smile and relax as the colours did to others.

Nothing in particular caught his eye.

Until a ruffle of black hair, buck teeth and blue eyes slipped behind the counter.

He was talking to a girl who looked rather similar to him, buck teeth and black hair, bright green where he had a shining blue.

He laughed at something she said, and nodded at the next. She then walked away to a table.

It only took half a minute for the shoddy blonde in the booth seat to realise that the waiter with the bright eyes and soft smile, as Dave had dubbed him within the confines of his-own mind, was walking towards him.

He did look rather shoddy, did Dave.

His red hoodie was warm and baggy, with toothpaste stains from before he left his even shoddier apartment. His jeans had stains on and were faded, old and tattered. If they weren't skinny jeans it would be more noticeable. His converse were falling apart, and Dave himself did not look very presentable to the interesting stranger, who had reached his table, notebook in hand.

"Hello! I'm John, what can I get you?" John. The name seemed to be displayed above him on a sign, blaring out "John" now that Dave knew it. It seemed like an obvious name, it felt like he should have known his name was John. A piece had clicked into place, a name to a soft-looking face.

Cogs whirred in the thought-space of Dave's mind. What did he want? He wasn't actually hungry. He was tired, but the ache of fatigue was an all over feeling he was used to by now. Maybe a coffee?

John was still smiling, waiting patiently. Effectively blocking the decorative board with the menu and prices on it.

"I… Don't really know what you have here, but I'll have a coffee to drink, if you do that?" the more he thought of his coffee, the more appealing it seemed to get. He would be Sorely disappointed if they did not.

"We do! I'll get you a menu if you would like. So, how do you like your coffee, Sir?" John was still smiling, a soft breeze of the café's door opening and closing ruffled his hair. Soft light filled his eyes, and they seemed to glow.

Dave's eyes were black plastic and mirrored lenses, reflecting light, absorbing heat. As far the world knew, Dave was the man who sighed and stared at the rain with glasses for eyes.

His title was getting lengthy.

"Yeah, thanks. Black with two sugars." John scribbled it down on the little notebook he had pulled out on his way over to Dave's table.

An energetic nod and yet another giga-smile sent his way, and John was off, back to the counter.

Dave offered him no sentiment in return, but the slightest twitch upward of the lips, in a once practised way that has been left unused far too long. It felt rather awkward to do , so Dave assumed it was awkward to see.

With John, the bright demeanour he carried went with him, the sun yanked away from the rainclouds and tugged with the blue sky to the counter.

It soon returned with a nicely decorated menu. Or rather, soon John returned with a nicely decorated menu. John with the invisible name. The name you thought you should already know, before he tells you what it is, but as soon as he does it suddenly all makes sense.

That is John.

He handed Dave the menu. "We also have a pumpkin pie special today! That's five dollars, for the soup. Hehe." A short laugh, he felt slightly more awkward. Dave blamed it on his lack of response.

"Thanks man." He gave it a quick look, his eyes stopped on the "Sweet things" section.

He remembered the taste of apple pie, of various brands and makes, homemade and store bought. They all swirled around In his mind, as he tried to guess which generic flavour it would taste like.

Upon further inspection, all of the food was homemade. So he had an idea of what it would be like.

He hadn't had apple pie since he walked in after his graduation of high school, already accepted into a local college, high school over, his Brother presented him with his homemade apple pie.

It was the best pie he ever had, his heart and stomach ached for it, wanted to reach into the past and have it before him, so that he could taste it again. Even if for the last time.

John looked no less patient, as Dave stared at the words "Scrumptious Apple Pie" unsure whether he could bring himself to do it. He looked to John and fidgeted. Feeling scrutinised by the bold eyes of the waiter. Even though no scrutiny was held within them.

A few moments of furious scribbling with John biting his tongue, slipping the menu in his armpit as the pen he was using was running out of ink,He frowned slightly, creasing his brows at the scribbled "Apple piE" as he had gotten frustrated with his e, it became a capital.

"I'll get that to you as fast as I can." Dave was graced with another smile, and the sunshine that was John was yanked away from him like a blanket in the winter. And he was left alone.

He watched John make his coffee. He danced and hummed and talked to the woman he had been talking to earlier. He popped in two sugars and placed it on a tray with an extra sugar and milk in case he felt he needed it, apparently.

He itched somewhere in his mind to talk to John. Ask for his number, or if he had Pesterchum, his Chum-handle. Though not many people did anymore.

He found himself oddly fascinated and interested in John. He wanted to know how he did his hair to make it look like it had been windswept in a mountain breeze. He wanted to know how long he had been a waiter.

He wanted to know John.

His order arrived, warm and creamy and smelling delightful. But the warmth didn't quite sit right in comparison to the waiter beside him. He still smiled brightly. He spoke to Dave in a kind voice spilling with enthusiasm, making Dave want to feel just as enthusiastic, to chat with him and ask him all the questions he wanted too, to get to know John.

The man behind the waiter's uniform, so to speak.

"Here you go! One apple pie, and one coffee, black with two sugars. Enjoy! And if you need anything, tell me, okay?" a nod. A stoic nod filled with bland grey apathy and a sense of emptiness when it came to emotion Dave wondered if he could actually turn it off.

He had yet to find that switch within himself. He wished he could find it. He wanted to turn off the monochrome. The black white and grey. To stop staring at the rain and wondering and start staring at life and living.

John was on his way. Taking the orders of others. Dave drank his coffee. He ate his pie. He kept a subtle eye on John. He hoped he wasn't being rude, or creepy. His odd fascination just wouldn't let him look away.

It wasn't even the type of fascination he had felt before, the type he could understand. It was the type where he wanted to know everything about John. He wanted to be close with him, to know when his birthday is and his favourite things. To know where he has any birthmarks or scars. To know if he has a middle name.

He wanted John to be as curious.

It was a strange fascination. One that a few months ago, he would've brushed aside, ignored, and not bothered with. But now, the thrilling notion of feeling something besides empty, drunk, or, to put it simply, done. Dave couldn't help but develop his curiosity and fascination. Build on it, think of ways to talk to him, what to ask.

A foolish fantasy. But a distracting one.

Time ticked on. Dave seemed to be aware of that all of the time. Especially recently. The soul crushing reminder his youth and life was draining away as the seconds on the small blue clock on the wall moved on.

It made him cringe quietly to himself.

He looked around, finally done. He had taken his time sipping his coffee, giving it time to cool. Debating whether to add the extra milk and sugar. He did, because John went to get it for him in case.

John.

His thoughts had been going full circle. His curiosity to know more about John. How did he like his coffee? Did he like apples? Dave used to take pride in smelling like apples.

Now he smells of cheap deodorant and alcohol.

He looked around, there was a small sign saying both John and his counterpart, were on break. They were sorry, and were short on staff, but would be hanging around if they were needed.

"Hey! John and I are on break right now, but if you need anything we will be around! This is our most efficient method as were low on staff! Don't be afraid to talk about anything!"

His shades reflect the lights as they move to the boy sipping Pepsi behind the counter. John.

Looking between his plates and the empty counter, with nothing but John sipping contentedly, Dave made the decision to speak to him, using his dishes as a conversation starter. It took about ten minutes of self-preparation and reminding himself John won't be on break forever, to actually get up.

He stood and took his plate, everything else was stacked on it. And walked over to where John was. He attempted to offer a small smile, but was 99.9% sure it looked horrid because he wasn't really sure how to smile attractively in any way.

He was sure of this.

But if you were to ask John what Dave's face looked like, he'd say struggling greatly to smile. And he would tell you it was that moment in his life he made the decision he would do his best to make this customer smile before they parted ways, which looked like soon at that exact moment.

The dishes made a rattling sound as they were placed down, and Dave sat before them, clearing his throat.

"Uh, hey. I don't wanna bother you on your break or anything man, but I'm done and I was wondering what to do with these?" his voice didn't sound great. He knew that. He did look great. He knew that. He didn't smell great. He knew that. But he tried to seem appealing none the less.

To satisfy that odd curiosity. He would stress this was not a creepy, obsessive curiosity, it was the kind that can only be described as curiosity because there isn't enough words for it. He was interested in John, to put it simply. Interested sounded better, he would tell you.

"Oh, that's fine! Leave them, I'll get them in just a second!" he smiled Dave's way, and Dave nodded in response. Unable to drag the motivation to try and smile.

John's smile barely faltered.

"So, I told you my name, mind telling me yours?" the shock that john was actually trying to continue talking to him was like a smack in the face, his eyes widened slightly. But no one could see that. He was good for now.

"Dave. Dave Strider." He spun in his seat. A 20 year old man swaying in his seat like a bored teen who wasn't actually allowed to spin on his chair. Rotating his hips but going no further than about 100 degrees round.

"Nice to meet you Dave! I haven't seen you around here before, I hope we've made a good first impression." He was clearly meaning the small café. They had.

"Yeah. I like it. I live nearby, actually I just… never really stopped to appreciate little places like this before I guess." He'd never stopped to appreciate the little things in life, in general.

A swift nod from John.

"I wouldn't have either, if my sister didn't own the place." An eyebrow raised. Sister? The green eyed girl?

"She hangs around here. Looks like me but with green eyes and y'know, is a girl." Dave nodded again. "Yeah I saw her." John smiled in return. A thing he does, clearly. He was the living translation of ": B" on a human being.

"Oh! You need to pay hehehe, hang on." His fingers lightly glide across the surface of the counter, reaching the till. In seconds its open and Dave's still in a daze.

"Oh, heh, yeah I do. How much?" he didn't bring a lot. He didn't plan to eat a lot.

"Nine dollars and fifty cents, please." The word please sounded softer than his other words. Like changing a brand of pillow, a new brand of softness for something already soft.

After rummaging around a few minutes, a ten dollar bill is produced, and a five. Both are handed over. John is told to keep the change.

"Whoa, thanks Dave!" the seat flumf'd as he sat down opposite Dave once again.

"It's okay." Was all he could think to reply.

"So, are you just chilling around for a while? We have Wi-Fi if you want? Or are you heading off?" John seemed hopeful.

Hopeful that Dave would stay.

Dave doesn't want to go home, but under the scrutiny of the three patrons and John's sister who would soon pop out from wherever she was, he felt uncomfortable, like they all new how messed up his head was at that second.

Like they all knew everything that was making it hard to breathe. Making it hard to get through his days.

He chewed his lip in thought.

"I… honestly don't wanna go back home. But I want to be somewhere with like minus two people. I'm not in a very sociable mood." John sighed through his nose in thought. The little cogs whirring around in his head, metaphorically, Dave would hope.

He wouldn't be too chuffed to discover the cute waiter was a robot, though the plot twist would be more interesting still.

"Hmm, that's quite the problem you have there. Oh! I think I have it! I'm off for the day in a couple hours, and I know a cute little park no one goes to anymore. I could show you? If you'd like to go?"

Holy fucking shit.

Dave's thoughts were rather eloquent.

Was- was the cute waiter, John, the cute little waiter with the blue-topaz style eyes and the ruffle-me hair, asking him out. To a park. Alone. Together.

Yes. Yes he was.

"Sure. I'll make a tab. I'd like some apple juice if you have any, as soon as your off your break, of course." The smile on Johns face returned. Again. It was becoming a pleasant and familiar site.

The look transforms into one of a man who had just thought of a rather clever idea.

"You're going to be pretty bored if you're waiting around! I can hook your phone up to the Wi-Fi we have here! Do you have Pesterchum? I can keep you amused when I'm not serving anyone, I'd hate for you to be really bored!"

Holy fucking shit.

The surprise was enough for Dave to need to take a few seconds to make sure he heard that, not only was this waiter a pleasant, rather attractive distraction, he was smooth as fuck.

The urge to get to know him only increased, because how could a cute bumbling dork get to be that smooth.

It must be a god given gift, but fuck that guy, because recently he's been a massive asshole.

Dave sighed, without realising he had done so aloud, and caught himself. "Sorry. I thought about something else. Yeah, I do." John nodded, deciding not to question it. His breath caught when John pulled out his pen, the pen he wrote Dave's order down with.

"Give me your hand, please?" his smile softened, from a bright light to a soft glow. Dave nodded, he finally removed his slightly clammy hand from his red hoodie, and held it out for John, who took it and wrote a chum handle.

ectoBiologist.