Repost from AO3. It seemed to do pretty decent there. Copy-N-Pasted it back onto a Google Doc to download (my excuse for any mistakes) and... kind of forgot about this account. Uhm, oops. Hope y'all enjoy, though.
"Black coffee, please. No added sugars or creamers," his deep voice resonated with a heavy Russian accent. Ivan didn't like all of the sweetness and artificial flavoring that seemed to infect this country. How did he ever decide to leave Russia for this? He could have gone anywhere else – any of the Baltic or Nordic states, Germany, France, China, maybe even the United Kingdom or Canada if he really wanted to go to an English speaking country.
But he doesn't think he would want it any other way. His gaze traveled off to the side, distracted by a crown of wheat-blond hair by the front of the shop. A young man, possibly around nineteen or twenty, was sitting on the floor by the double doors, wide open, that led to the outside. His clear, tanned skin appeared to glow from the sunlight that was pouring in through the open doors and pooling in a longer, more rectangular shape on the dark wood floors, stained a shade of walnut that fit nicely with the cozy – but still very open – aesthetic of the local store. He had on a dark gray T-shirt that said in white text, inside of a lighter gray circle, the letters "NYC", which Ivan supposed made sense because the boy was an American and they were currently in New York City. This shirt was also matched with a pair of black, ripped jeans that fit nicely to the curve of his legs.
They boy was smiling brightly, holding out his hand to something that Ivan very quickly discovered was a kitten. It was a pretty little thing, a small silvery tabby with swirling stripes, and it stumbled on its little kitten legs to reach for his hand. Ivan could almost hear its pur from here, a shallow vibrating instead of a deeper rumbling due to its young age. The kitten pushed his face into the boy's outstretched hand, and the blond's blue eyes sparked.
It was then that Ivan realized that there was more than one cat; there were several that he could now see as they crept out from the shadowed corners of the building to receive their own fair share of attention from the golden boy. His smile only seemed to grow at the appearance of the other felines, and Ivan couldn't help but let his lips curve upward with his.
Ivan left a small tip – an unnecessary custom in the country, he thought – and, holding his warm black coffee, turned to make his way over to the table he had chosen before he went to make his order. His bag was set on the chair part of one of the smaller booths, one with a window, and his work laptop was on the table. From where he stood when he was ordering, it was within his line of vision and he has no qualms of it getting stolen. He started walking, straightening his coat and scarf, but didn't get very far before nearly tripping on one of the cats that decided that just under his feet was the perfect route to take to get to the blue eyed boy, who thankfully wasn't currently paying attention to him to see him fall. That would be a very embarrassing first impression. And Ivan was lucky enough to not have spilt his coffee, either.
The cat paused and looked up at him, meowing at him briefly before sauntering away as if he hadn't almost been crushed by its grave mistake of getting in Ivan's way without his knowledge. Well, hello to you, too, little one, Ivan thought with a small smile and a soft sigh. Certainly glad I didn't step on you! That would be very difficult to explain to sunflower boy over there.
Ivan continued to his laptop, and upon reaching his booth, he set down his coffee and began to work, occasionally casting glances in the boy's direction. The younger male was now surrounded by cats, and all of which he was giving equal attention to. Ivan could hear them all now, purring as they danced around him enthusiastically, trying to get more pets.
Ivan couldn't blame them for being so distracting; he would probably be acting the same way if he were a cat. Or just with the boy in general. He had this aura around him, energetic and bright, almost, while strangely calming at the same time. If he were to be pet the same way he was petting the cats right now – soft and soothingly, he could tell – Ivan was sure it wouldn't take long before he fell asleep. He was already feeling drowsy just from the thought.
Suddenly, the sunflower boy looked up, met his gaze across the space of the coffee shop, and smiled at him, giving him a wave. Ivan started as he realized he had been staring, and waved back, aware of the pinkish flush that came to his normally pale complexion from the boy's unexpected, direct attention. He returned a sheepish smile, embarrassed.
The boy seemed to giggle softly, bringing a hand up to his own face as he covered his mouth. He turned back to the cats who were fighting for his affections, a light in his eyes that Ivan had only then just noticed.
Ivan, as if on some impulsive decision he was not even aware he made, he closed his laptop, got up, and moved in the direction of the blond boy. He left his coffee half full, no longer warm but closer to room temperature now.
Ivan stood in front of him now, and when he cast a sudden shadow over the boy and the cats surrounding him, he looked up. He smiled at the sight of Ivan's figure towering over him.
"Well, I was wondering how long it was going to take for you to come over here and have a chat! Y'know, instead of watching me from the side of the room in a lonely little booth. Kind of creepy, dude," the boy said with a goofy smile, not being all that serious.
Ivan's face felt much warmer. "Sorry."
The boy seemed surprised for a moment, and the older man was confused as to why before he remembered that his English was laced with a heavy accent. He almost felt the need to apologize, though he was unsure exactly how he felt this way when he knew that he could not control it. The boy didn't seem to dwell on it, though. He gave the paler man a reassuring smile before asking him, "Hey, would you like to sit down with me? I could use an extra set of hands for all these needy kitties! " His voice became more baby-like with his last few words.
Still embarrassed, Ivan accepted, and he sat down on the spot where the boy had patted his hand in a beckoning motion.
They sat together, mostly in silence except for the cats purring from the added attention given to them. The boy's smile was contagious, and when the smallest cat rolled over onto Ivan's much bigger and warmer one, he chuckled.
"So, what is your name?" Ivan finally asked. He was getting a little tired of the blond being known as "the boy" in his head, and would very much like a name to his pretty face.
"Alfred," he beamed, "Alfred F. Jones. And you?"
"Ee-van Braginsky. But I suppose the English way of saying it works." Alfred raised his eyebrows, and Ivan rolled his eyes. "I am Russian."
"Ah," Alfred said, looking satisfied, "Well, it's nice to meet you, Ee-van Brrraginsky!" He had attempted to roll the "r", but it sounded more like a not-very-flattering gurgle instead. It made Ivan laugh.
"Yes, it is nice to mean you, too, Ali-ka."