Warning: slash, as in boy on boy, disregard for canon, and abuse of coffee shops. Proceed at own risk.


All he really wanted was a coffee. Nothing fancy, just straight, black coffee. Kevin needed something bitter, something to give him a jolt of energy. Even if he'd actually have to pay for it for once.

"What would you like?" The brunet behind the counter was slender, with these shining green eyes and a smile that showed hints of teeth.

"Just a coffee, black, medium." Kevin tried to talk low, but understandably, changing his voice a bit to avoid recognition. He doesn't suppose anyone will (it has been about five years), but he wasn't willing to take his chances. Not on something like this, anyway.

The barista comes back with a medium sized steaming cup of coffee. Digging into his pocket, Kevin places two dollar bills onto the counter and leaves without bothering to get change.


He doesn't go back there until about a month later. He isn't use to hitting the same place twice, but it's the only coffee shop anywhere near the city limits that isn't a Starbucks and crowded with hipsters and people who will look at his attire with disgust.

This time it's almost to closing time, a quarter to eleven, and Kevin is grateful for his timing. There isn't a single person in the cafe and the barista is already cleaning up.

Hearing the bell jingle, the same barista from last time looks up, warm smile on his face. Something about it seems familiar, but Kevin doesn't think too hard on that. He just wants to get a coffee and go as quickly as possible without making any sort of impression.

Which should be kind of hard considering he smells like grease and his jeans got ripped earlier in the evening. He hasn't been able to shower in about two days, much less wash his hair in about a month. At least he gets to brush his teeth on most days, even if it's in a dingy gas station restroom.

"What would you like?" The brunet asks, his warm smile slightly strained as Kevin approaches. He does a well enough job at hiding it, though. He must be used to homeless people coming here.

"Medium coffee." Kevin tries his best not the look the barista in the eye. He doesn't want to see a (rightly) disgusted look there. Not that he likes making eye contact anymore. It might make him more recognizable, and he isn't ready for that yet.

"Free of charge." Kevin looks up enough to see that warm smile again, but not enough to look at the boys eyes. He has half a mind to say "I don't need your pity", but holds his tongue. He has about five bucks left in his pocket, and the more he can save, the better.

"Thank you," Kevin says instead, because although he isn't use to thanking people, he has to be polite or else things don't go nearly as smoothly as they should.

Kevin sits at the counter instead of getting up and leaving as last time. The coffee shop is warmer than his car (he doesn't turn on the heat as the battery is old and he hasn't found a decent enough replacement), so he stays. He takes a sip of his coffee, relishing the warmth and the bitter taste he doesn't really like but drinks all the same. He taste a hint of sugar this time, but doesn't say anything about it.

The brunet behind the counter has left, and Kevin is about to leave when he suddenly storms out the back room, sans apron, with a green jacket on. And that's when it hits him.

You don't really tend to find people you tried to kill when you were eleven at a coffee shop. Kevin just gets lucky.

Ben Tennyson is exactly the person he wanted to avoid ever seeing again in his life.

Kevin is stock still in his seat, not daring to make eye contact. He's gripping his coffee with a little more force than necessary, thoughts swimming. Ben Tennyson is standing only a few feet away from his, moving things around on the counter-top, whistling, and not trying to kill him. It's almost like some sort of weird hallucination.

Or maybe he's just thinking too much. This can't be the Ben from before. Yeah, sure, so he had brown hair and green eyes. Plenty of people did.

"Sorry, but I'm about to close up." The guy who is possibly Ben sounds sincerely apologetic, jingling his keys in his hand.

Kevin still can't meet his eyes as he walks out the door.


Kevin isn't exactly sure why two weeks later he decides to hit the same coffee shop again. At least he's showered this time, and even got to wash his hair. He's got some new jeans on too, that are a bit loose around the waist, and hang a bit low. The belt he has on doesn't really help hold it up much anyway, but he keeps it on so it doesn't slide too far down his hips.

Maybe-Ben isn't at the counter this time.

He isn't exactly disappointed, per say (or he won't admit it), but he was expecting the brunet to see if it could actually be Tennyson. Purely, to sate his curiosity. Right.

Instead, it's a petite Asian girl with short black hair and a pink long sleeve under her apron. Her name pin read 'Julie' and Kevin almost kicks himself for not thinking enough to read Maybe-Ben's.

He approaches her, steps casual. He should probably invest in a pair of sunglasses if he's going to be coming here more often (and he expects to, because although the coffee isn't the best he's had – not that he drinks much coffee anyway – it's the only place open until eleven that isn't usually full of people).

Her smile isn't as warm as the brunet's, it's a bit more forced as she asks, "how may I help you?"

"Coffee, black, a medium." He doesn't change his voice this time.

He probably shouldn't stay there. He should probably leave as soon as he gets his coffee and a blueberry muffin (the coffee is too bitter, he needs something sweet). But he doesn't, and instead slinks over to a booth near the back and rest his head on the table for a bit. The cafe is mostly empty, as it is nearly ten at night.

He doesn't lift his head when the door chimes, doesn't bother to hear the soft peals of laughter coming from Julie and the other girl who walks in. His coffee is probably getting cold, but it doesn't really matter to him, since he doesn't really want it anyway.

He does lift his head, however, when he feels a pair of eyes of him. The girl is cautious in her observance, as is he. The red head is pretty, he decides. Long hair cascading down her shoulders, slender figure with a heart shaped face. He's almost positive if he gets close enough, she probably has freckles across her nose and cheeks.

But her dress style is conservative, skirt reaching exactly at to her knees, dark stockings, and collared shirt neat and ironed to perfection. She isn't the type of girl Kevin talks to. Not that he's gotten a chance to talk to very many girls.

He sits up, grabs the blueberry muffin and his coffee, and leaves. If he still feels a pair of eyes on him as he does, he doesn't bother looking back.


Maybe-Ben is there the next time he goes, manning the counter. It's a quarter to eleven again and the cafe is nearly empty. Maybe-Ben is cleaning up the counter with a rag, whistling to himself, Kevin assumes from his view by the door.

Maybe-Ben looks up as the door opens and the bells jingle, giving a customary smile. "Coffee, black, medium, right?" Kevin sort of freezes (he hopes Maybe-Ben doesn't notice this). The reason he never hits the same place more than once is because he is a person of pattern, and if someone starts to notice his pattern, things could go bad.

"Actually," he looks around the counter, and then toward the back, before settling on the machines. "Add some whole milk to that."

Maybe-Ben doesn't say anything, just smiles and goes to making the cup. Kevin is taping his fingers against the counter when the brunet comes back, coffee cup in hand. Kevin's eyes dart to the boys chest, but he isn't wearing a name tag.

He slams a few bills on the table and doesn't look back as he retreats. Maybe-Ben just watches, perplexed.

Kevin is shaking, grip tight enough on the steering wheels, his knuckles are whiter than usual, if that's possible. He needs to calm himself down. It isn't the first time a deal goes sour, it isn't the first time he gets shot at, it isn't the first time he almost doesn't make it out with all his limbs, and it definitely won't be the last.

Coffee is a stimulant. Coffee doesn't calm nerves. But he won't be able to sleep tonight so he might as well have some help with it. Plus a blueberry muffin doesn't seem like a bad idea.

He's told himself he wouldn't come back here. And he's right, he shouldn't. It's almost ten minutes to closing time and he isn't too keen on possibly making Maybe-Ben mad by having him work.

But he does anyway because even if the coffee there isn't too great, its better than the crap he can get at the gas station.

He looks sweaty and beat up – he changed his shirt before coming inside, but his jeans probably sports rips at the knees and some dirt – and paler than usual. Maybe-Ben doesn't smile when he approaches the counter.

"Are you okay?"

He gives the boy a weak smile. "Peachy."

Maybe-Ben doesn't say anything, and just goes to starting the machine. Kevin doesn't notice, as he's staring at the marble counter, eyes drooping. He's exhausted.

It's longer than usual when Maybe-Ben passes him a cup of coffee. Kevin thinks he says thank you.

He doesn't notice Maybe-Ben staring at him from across the counter. "What's your name?" It's a bit startling to hear the boy say anything besides "what would you like?"

"Ke-Kenji." He stops himself before saying 'Kevin'. The only people who ask for his name or feel a need to know it are his clients. He hasn't spoken to very many people in the past few months. It's a stupid name, and he hopes he'll remember it. He'd like to be able to come back to the cafe without raising suspicions.

"I'm Ben." He adopts that warm smile again as he hold out his hand, and Kevin has half a mind to bolt. Maybe-Ben has just turned into Real-Ben, as if today's events weren't enough for his psyche. He tentatively takes the boys hand in his own, shaking it once, before bringing it back to his lap.

"Do you go to Bellwood High? I don't think I've seen you around." Small talk. Kevin hasn't engaged in small talk that didn't involve selling alien tech or swindling someone out of their money or taking someone to bed in far too long.

"Uh, no I don't." Ben has his back turned to Kevin, cleaning the machine he had just used.

"The Prep school, then?" Kevin gives a bitter laugh. Did he really look like he could go to a private school? He supposes he was just being polite.

"No, I don't go to school."

Ben turns back around, brows furrowed. "Why not?"

"I graduated," he lies, easily. Ben seems to believe him. "I'm taking a break from school." Lying has always come easy to him. He's always found a way to manipulate a conversation into going in his favor.

"Why do you always order your coffee black?" Ben is leaning against the counter now, green eyes shining in curiosity. "You don't really seem to like it." The question catches Kevin off guard. He expected the conversation to stay on school or something silly like that.

For him to know that, the brunet must have been watching him. It send a shiver down Kevin's spine. He's suppose to stay inconspicuous. Go in and out of places without leaving an impression. Obviously, he hadn't done a good enough job.

"I've never had anything else. I don't tend to experiment." This time he isn't lying. Ever since leaving the Null Void, he hasn't had much time to experiment with new things, and so far he's been mostly living off instant noodles and the crummy sandwiches the gas station's convenience store sells.

"Well, I can't say we make the best coffee, but adding something sweet usually makes it less bitter and probably enjoyable." Ben's smile is kind and Kevin has to look away. He doesn't deserve that kind of smile directed at him, and yet he can't bring himself to cut the conversation and leave. "Or so I'm told," Ben continues. "I don't really drink coffee."

Kevin raises an eyebrow. "But you work at a coffee shop."

Ben's laugh is nice and throaty, Adam's apple bobbing as he does. "Funny, isn't it? My cousin sort of dared me into getting a job, so I applied to the one place that rejected her and got the job. She wasn't too pleased."

"Probably because my manager doesn't like her for some reason," Ben continues to ramble. Kevin doesn't mind. He could use the noise to distract him from his thoughts. "Next time you should try a cappuccino. They're a bit more popular with the college crowd. They provide the same kick as straight coffee, but taste pleasant, apparently."

"Yeah, next time." Kevin gives him a curt smile, out of politeness. He doesn't plan on coming back again.


Ben looks back from tending to the coffee machine when he hears bells jingle, to see a dark haired male walk through the door, and a smile crosses his face.


A/N: I haven't seen the original series in a long time, so I took some liberties with canon. If anything is too jarring, tell me and I'll fix it.

Some points:

1. For the sake of this AU, let's pretend Kevin doesn't know the Tennyson cousins lived in Bellwood (if he did in the first place.) In AF, he's found working for the Forever Knights, and I don't remember anything being said about him knowing where they lived previous to that.

2. Ben and Gwen don't recognize Kevin and vice-versa. I'll chalk it up to time. Plus Kevin doesn't look like the same bug-eyes kid from before, and Ben matured a lot (even if Ultimate Alien tried to reverse his matured nature that I enjoyed).

3. The beginning is sort of set before Alien Force, before Ben puts the Omnitrix back on. By the end, Ben is back in commission.

4. Bellwood is in Southern California. This should probably come into play later on.

5. It's called Obligatory because it's an obligatory coffee shop AU that's been popping up everywhere in other fandoms. Shush, I thought it was clever.