A/N: Just a little scene that was niggling away in the back of my mind. Might add some more bits and pieces, might not.
Enjoy :)
ANS
Espresso
It was a cool Autumn day. The wind plucked the red and gold leaves from the trees and made them swirl and dance upon the ground. A pair of perfectly shined Italian leather shoes made their way through the eddies of leaves, donned by an imposing figure.
The man was tall, lean, and had an aura of dangerous confidence that had passerby following him with their eyes. Impeccably dressed in a tailor made pin striped suit, designer brand trench coat, and suave fedora, the man clearly had good taste, and the money to afford it.
The man cut through the park at a leisurely pace, seemingly headed nowhere in particular as he observed the scenery. As he strolled by a particularly magnificent oak tree dressed in shades of burgundy, a scent upon the wind caught his attention. With a pleased smirk, the man charted a course for the café not a hundred meters down the path. One must not deny oneself the opportunity for a prime cup of espresso.
The café was humble in appearance, but carried the scent of high quality goods. It seemed to be a hidden gem, nestled away from the most popular of paths. However, it was more than capable of advertising itself; the scent of coffee and that of baked goods mingled and coalesced into an appetizing call to action. And action, the man would take.
He entered the shop, the chiming of the bell above the door alerting the mischievous looking employee of his presence. The curly haired teen ended his conversation with the only other customer in the shop, a young man with tousled brown locks and a pleasant expression, safeguarding his very own cup of liquid caffeine.
The man looked over the display of pastries and confections, debating what would go well with his espresso. A particular slice of dark chocolate mousse cake caught his eye. What better to compliment coffee than bittersweet chocolate?
He informed the teen as to what he wanted, and paid for it. As he waited for the espresso to brew, he looked about the shop. There was abstract art covering nearly every inch of wall space. What space wasn't taken up by strange reconstructions of mundane things was filled with photographs. It seemed to be the homey sort of place that treasured its regular customers, as most of the pictures had the same subjects. Interestingly, the brunette sitting at the window was in a majority of the photos
His attention was pulled back when the employee set his mug of espresso down, next to a plate that held a perfect slice of mousse cake drizzled with raspberry coulis. The presentation was on par with that of a high end restaurant, and not at all what he would expect from a hole-in-the-wall café. He took his coffee and cake over to the other window seat, opposite the brunette. He and the brunette's eyes met as he walked over, and he gave his signature smirk, causing the other man to blush and avert his eyes. Cute.
The man sat down facing the brunette just a couple tables away, and took a sip of his espresso as he looked out the window. The chill of Autumn emanated from the glass, and the man knew if he pressed a hand to the window it would be pleasantly cool compared to the warmth of the café and the heat of the espresso in his hand.
It was in the quiet of the moment he realized music was playing softly in the background. The notes of a piano sang clearly yet gently, coming together in a melody that invoked a sense of muted joy and comfort. The man could not place the song, despite having a vast wealth of knowledge on classical music and various modern composers. Curiosity burned through him as he took another drink and contemplated the melody. Even the style was unlike any he had heard previously.
Not one to let questions go unanswered for long, the man looked up to see that the employee had disappeared to the back room. Disappointing. Turning his gaze forward, he caught the brunette staring at him. The other man blushed at being caught, gaze falling back to the book he had in front of him. The man found himself amused by the reaction, and his sadistic side reared its ugly-yet wonderfully useful-head.
He grabbed his cup and plate-the cake yet untouched, meant to be savored-and walked over to the other's table, inviting himself to sit down in the opposite chair. The brunette watched his approach with wide eyes, surprised but not unwelcoming. Those eyes, a brown that seemed almost golden in the light of the sun, followed his hands as he carefully placed his items upon the wooden surface before darting back up to meet his own dark, almost black, eyes.
"What beautiful music that is playing, don't you think?" The man spoke casually in his low timbre, the brunette almost jolting, as if not expecting the sound. Such a timid creature, he seemed to be, as he avoided eye contact and curled slightly into himself. Clearly unused to a stranger's attention.
"Ah, yes, I'm glad you think so." The brunette said, the tenor of his voice hesitant, with a hint of pride simmering below. Interesting. Those brown eyes made contact for a moment before darting away yet again as he took a sip of his drink, what appeared to be a latté.
"Oh?" the man sounded with interest, "Is it perhaps your own work?" he asked, the brunette's reply having implied such a thing to be true. The other man shot up straight in his seat, blushing, and waved his hands around.
"No! Uh, no. It's… actually composed by a friend of mine. He'd be happy to hear someone likes his work." the brunette said, his embarrassment at shouting fading into pride for his friend as he continued.
The man simply raised a perfect brow and nodded in understanding, picking up his fork and severing a piece of the mousse cake. He savoured the bite, the mixture of flavors complementing each other beautifully. Delicious. He noticed the brunette's focus was turned towards him quite suddenly, and smirked as the other panicked at being caught staring.
"Ah! Uh, sorry! I just- ah, how's the cake!?" he squeaked out, voice reaching impressive highs, almost resembling that of a mouse. The man chuckled in amusement, a certain glimmer in his eye that those who knew him would recognize as a bad omen.
"Delicious, thank you." he said truthfully, savoring yet another bite of the mousse cake. It paired wonderfully with the espresso, cutting at some of the bitterness with the semi-sweetness of the chocolate and the tartness of the raspberry coulis.
The brunette smiled at that, a pleased glow entering his expression, his eyes lighting up. The man thought it to be odd, until he considered the possibilities. The brunette personally knew the composer whose music the cafe was playing, appeared in almost all of the photos on the wall, and showed unusual interest in the man's approval of the food. He must either be a close friend of the owner, a business partner, or the owner of the cafe himself. The man took another sip of his espresso before inquiring.
"I couldn't help but notice the photos on the wall. Are you a regular customer here?" he asked, the brunette blinking in surprise before smiling secretively.
"Oh, I suppose you could say that," he said, taking a measured sip of his latte for dramatic effect before continuing, "If being the owner counts as being a regular."
The man was pleased that his hunch was correct, and more so that the other man had grown comfortable enough with his presence to tease him slightly. As much fun as it was to play wolf to the cornered rabbit, the man often grew bored if said rabbit never even gave a fight. He had a feeling that the brunette could be devious himself given the opportunity, if the teasing glimmer in his golden-brown eyes was anything to go by.
"Ah, that certainly explains a lot," the man replied simply, stabbing into the cake once more as he continued, "I should give my compliments to the chef. When I came here for a simple espresso, I did not expect to discover the best chocolate mousse cake I've had in years."
The man looked straight at the brunette as he spoke, little doubt in his mind that the other man was the one to make all of the cakes and pastries for the cafe. As expected, the brunette's cheeks flushed red and he hid behind a long sip of his latte. The man held back a chuckle as he lifted the fork to his mouth, finding that he quite enjoyed bringing a flush to the other man's cheeks. He should come here more often.
"T-thanks, I'll, uh, pass that on for you," the brunette said, apparently not quite able to admit his role in the production of the cafe's food.
They sat together and chatted for some time, the man only growing more and more intrigued with every word that came from the brunette's mouth. When it came time for him to leave, and the cafe owner to get back to work, the sun was noticeably lower in the sky, his mug was long since drained, and his plate practically licked clean.
It was on that day, with the cool Autumn breeze carrying red and gold leaves along the ground, the scent of espresso in the air, that a man with an intimidating aura and sharply tailored clothing met a humble and kind cafe owner with eyes of gold.
"The name's Renato," said the man with a sharp smile as he picked up his fedora.
"Tsunayoshi," the brunette replied warmly, eyes glittering with humor, "but you can call me Tsuna."