The coffee shop was mostly quiet when they entered. The two men were clearly familiar with each other, they walked close together, in a way Simon can't decipher right away. This was Texas so he couldn't assume anything but he thought maybe.
He turned to finish stacking the milk in the fridge as they discussed their order. They seemed be arguing, the way friends argue as a means of communication. He stood up to find them waiting for him. He grinned a look of apologize for not hearing them and picked up a pen to take their order.
The men on the left, the slightly taller of the two, ordered a regular black coffee, something Simon could pour in his sleep. The man on the right ordered a black coffee and wanting conversation, Simon joking asked if he wanted whip cream on it. He said yes, clearly not hearing what Simon said. The man on the left, short dirty blonde hair, blue eyes that reminded Simon of the sky and the hint of a tattoo under one sleeve, grinned in a mischievous way that made the man on the right glance at Simon to see what he had missed.
Repeating himself, Simon grinned, crossing out his mark on the cup when the man on the right, short slightly darker hair, brown eyes light enough to cheerful, dark enough to be somber depending on the situation, gleam of a metal ball chain under his t shirt, shook his head, rejecting the whipped cream.
The man on the left, shoved the sleeve of his shirt up when he reached into his pocket and revealed a list of unit numbers on his forearm. He handed Simon a gift card that had clearly been a present and probably the reason for their visit. The man on the right handed Simon a five dollar bill, revealing the lack of a ring his hand.
He took their names, and turned to set their cups on the counter for a second, keeping an eye on them as they moved to sit at one of the tables next to the window. However they were related, they had the same sense of humor, Simon could see why they enjoyed spending time together; their communication was lifted eyebrows and significant glances, a language of intimacy written on their faces, but only for those who cared enough to pay attention. Simon thought wishfully of a previous friend, a previous man, who had shared his love of eye rolling and learned to curve his tongue just so he and Simon could make fun of each other from across the room. In his distraction, thinking of Alec, Simon spilled down the side of the cup, staining the paper a light brown. Swiping the liquid away, the stain stayed but somehow Simon didn't think they would mind. He turned to place the hot cups on the counter, caught up in watching them. They were gorgeous, in the sun, but they had a type of confidence, a sureness of themselves and Simon wasn't going to lie, it was attractive. It helped that they were built like runners who spend their off time lifting weights. More than that, Simon liked that they filled the empty shop, made it feel warmer, made him feel less alone even when he wasn't privy to the contents of their conversation. Wanting that feeling to stay with him, he made a decision, strolled back to the register to grab his pen again. The ink of the pen of lined up perfectly with the stain on the paper and reassured Simon of his choice.
He called their names, hoping they would stick around to drink their coffee, simply he didn't want to be left here by himself. When they approached, the man previously on the right, picked up his coffee, sans whip cream, without glancing at it. Simon hoped he would see now; the moment would be funnier if he saw now. Luck was his side, the man previously on the right set his cup down again to apply a sleeve to the hot behavior, running his finger over the numbers. Surprise spread across his face, as if he couldn't believe someone noticed him. It was adorable and it made him seem younger, not that he looked that old to begin with.
You wrote your number on my coffee cup, the man previously on the right confirmed, drawing the attention of his companion. Simon nodded, waiting.
I'm married, were the next words out of mouth. To him, he said gesturing to the man standing beside him with amusement on his face.
Sorry, Simon started, not sensing hostility from either of them, hoping he could get away with a causal play off of his come on.
The man on the right hesitated slightly to pick up his cup again, as if picking it up meant accepting the offer. Alongside the confidence was inexperience; it was a unique combination of traits. Simon wondered with the man with the piercing blue eyes and list of black numbers was his first serious relationship.
It's okay, blue eyes continued, I did about the same thing.
If it is possible, the man with brown eyes warmed to the subject, you were more direct.
Blue eyes smiled, stepping closer to his husband, clearly comfort in the space. As if I was letting this whole mess escape my attention, he finished with affection, gesturing the other from head to toe.
The man previously on the right protested, caught up again in that familiar language of facial expressions and body language.
Simon felt warmth spread across his chest, watching him, knowing they were letting him into this tiny slice of their relationship. Seeing that love mixed with sincerity and humor was an honor.
It was a little unfair of you to steal him away from the rest of the world, Simon commented when the protests died away. The man previously on right let a serious expression flash across his face, like he was not used to being desired by someone else.
Well, blue eyes explained, the rest of the world hasn't asked for him back yet so maybe he was supposed to be mine along.
The man previously on the right looked touched, ducking his head under the compliment. Simon wished he wouldn't do that; his face was softer with that flattered smile.
I didn't mean anything by it, Simon commented, but you don't have your ring on.
Can't wear it in surgery, the man previously on the right said, pulling the chain from his shirt; dog tags weighted down the chain next to silver wedding band.
My mom was right, Simon said, laughing, a part of him wanting that relationship for himself, you wait too long and all the good ones are taken.
I think the saying goes all the good ones are taken or gay; blue eyes had clearly forgiven him.
Or in this case both Simon confirmed. Dog tags grinned, picked up his coffee to fiddle with it in a theatrical way. You have a good day, Simon.
Simon grinned his good bye, glad they had taken the time to read his name tag and watched as dog tags took blue eyes' hand. Don't worried. I think you're cute too.