Air A Kiss Coffee (Dune Coffee Shop AU)

[ALandWithNoName]

~Cold rain~

~Wet clothes~

~Long day~

~Paul~







He had to choose between lunch and a newspaper. Crazy just how expensive some splattered ink and mulch cost these days... but, so be it. Price wasn't really the issue to Paul; it was the fact said newspaper was currently tented over his face, keeping the bitter rain off futilely. Wind pushed it aside anyway. Paul sighed as his paper began to undo into pulp. Never even got to read the thing.



The work day had ended, and while he knew the forecast, Paul simply forgot his umbrella in the hectic mornings he so often had. Further, he was in the office late to patch over a clerical issue, preventing him from catching the last bus on his usual route. Another walk home. He wasn't the type to see and wait it out, leaving immediately as he could, along the quiet streets; businesses closed at this time of day.



Paul chuckled at a chill gust, the paper nearly shredded from sogginess. It wasn't the rain, either, really. It was the damned cold. He kept his free hand in-pocket, walking brisk to keep both warm and quick. What he wouldn't give for a relief...



And perhaps it was fate, as just in that moment of thought, a gust pulled the paper from his face in a way that drew his gaze street-side. The annoyed suck of teeth vanished at lit neon across the one-way. Paul stood there, staring at the hole-in-the-wall. Small, conventional, windows streaked from water running down. Perhaps it was the warm, soft wood panels of the interior that drew him to cross the street. Perhaps it was his fatigue. Perhaps none of it.



None the matter, as the tired office worker finally and vicariously shut the door behind him, muting the rain as though all a dream. Air-con warmth nuzzled his cold cheeks, fighting against his wet clothes. He still had the wet paper on his forehead when the barista called out, Paul looking over.



The young man was plain and unremarkable in all, save one thing. Paul stared at it. That hair, the color between velvet and crimson, like hearth-side fireplace hue... Something about it was so calming, that only the uncomfortable cough of the barista shook Paul from the trance. The office worker nervously laughed, apologizing. "Oh! I'm sorry, I just... well, I'm sorry."



The barista smiled like a Buddha. "It's fine, sir. Cold day and all. Have you been here before?"



"No. First time." Paul finally let his shoulders down, realizing that he held the soggy mess to head for no reason. He sighed as he looked at the garbled words, illegible now.



"Would that be today's paper?"



"At one point." Paul walked over to the counter, having wiped his shoes on the mat by now.



The barista leaned behind the counter, rustling before producing the same print, along a smile.



Paul had no words, touched to silence at the gesture. All he could do was steady himself by sitting on the stool in front of himself. The barista never spoke, and the quiet finally let Paul process the day behind him. He listened to the clinking of porcelain for a while, watching as the barista meticulously cleaned the mugs. Something about this guy was so familiar... Paul worked up the courage to ask. "Have we met before? What's your name?"



The velvet-haired barista turned, smiling. "Leto, sir. I don't think we've met. I like to think I'm good with that."



Paul laughed. "Leto? That's my dad's name!" After a moment, Paul shook his head. Wait... why... did I...?



Leto's own laugh cut off the thought, before replying in that calm Buddha-like way.



"Is that so?"

Spoiler: 1979 - Smashing Pumpkins

insomnia wouldn't let me sleep until i wrote this. hm. song?


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6M0yLxLCNA

 

[ALandWithNoName]

~Work distracts~

~Time flies~

~Peace flits~

~Paul~







Everything went back to normal come new dawn. As nice as the reprieve was, Paul still had his obligations; checkboxes, notes, itineraries, tasks. Free time? Perish the thought. He left to the same bus route, to the same office, same people, at the same times; every day. But behind it all; there was a change. Subtle and unspoken, always there in the back of his mind during the daily commutes. Like he forgot something...



After a particularly ass day of fuck ups, Paul sat alone on the bench, head bobbing against a cool window, bus making its way to home. If it weren't the sight of a small dog darting across the street, making Paul sit up, he might've missed that neon sign. The dog'd narrowly avoided being run over, just slinking by and between two parked cars -- and when Paul craned his head to look if the dog made it -- he pulled some hairs from his head. Tch. Pangs of annoyance and relief washed him over as he let a sigh out.



The eyes of the dog peeked back from beneath the car, just in front of the... the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop... Paul stared a while longer, until the view shrunk behind the bricks of buildings back to the mundane. Air A Kiss Coffee... Paul huffed, slinking himself back into the seat. What an insufferably fluffy name. What an insufferably fluffy logo. An errant heart floating over a mug. Hm.



At least it was another weekend.



He knew as soon as he latched the lock of his apartment, he'd be back in that coffee shop. Just needed a damn nap, is all.



30 minutes later, Paul stood at the swing-door, heart deciding of all times, now, to begin pounding. Great. Am I really getting that worked up over some guy? He held his shaky hand to thigh, looking at the threshold, wondering if he'd wasted all the time walking here. He didn't want to see his reflection. He had just turned and began to home when a voice called from behind.



"Sir!"



That voice. Paul closed his eyes, resigning himself a moment, before turning back. Today'd been a little too long for much more. He couldn't help but put a hand behind neck when he blurted a lie to that guy, Leto. "Hey! I-I'm sorry. I think I might've left my card..."



Leto, stood, one hand on the door. The other was keeping windblown velvet-locks from his face as he replied. "Welcome back. Paul, was it?"



"Hah, yeah..." I-did I tell him my name last time? Been too long to remember... well, shit. Paul was too embarrassed now to just leave, so he gave his best sheepish smile as he made back to... Air A Kiss Coffee.



Ugh.



He ordered an iced brew, seated himself at a table, and slowly worked the drink down, both hands on the cup. The texture wrap left paper fibres in his palms over time; as he stared to the matte, cocoa surface within. What a weird place. Why the hell is choosing between porcelain and paper even a thing? Cup was half-empty, when door chimes jingled to a new customer. He didn't bother looking back. Female, from the sounds coming from the counter, but Paul never looked up.



It was only the fact that because she sat at the far corner of the establishment, against the wall, did he finally glimpse the new customer over the rim of the cup.



And he regretted taking as big a sip as he did, because as soon as he saw who it was; he spit the entire mouthful over the table and seat of his booth.

Spoiler: The Night We Met - Lord Huron

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtlgYxa6BMU

*looks up, then side-to-side*
conquest of elysium 5 is way, way more beginner friendly lol. than dominions 6, gah lemme tell ya
*camera pans out, revealing i'm staring at a wall*

 

[ALandWithNoName]

~Lap wet~

~Coffee stains spreading~

~Hot as shit~

~Paul, also hot as shit~







It was painful silence which dominated the parlor of Air A Kiss Coffee. Only the heated warmth in his lap reminded Paul that else existed, because all he saw at the moment, were the magnetic eyes of his workplace crush. He knew her name, internally, saw it on the pay-stubs. But who the frick would admit that? Especially at this moment? For the love of all holy, as long as he didn't blurt out Chani...



The sharply elfin face of hers stared back, shocked, easily seen across the room, and Paul decided then the best maneuver was to thug it out, and just hold his gaze. Damn to the coffee in his lap! He was in the middle of deciding whether or not placing chin in palm, or arms across chest to be better, when the absolutely unexpected happened.



Being rectangular, the wall next to Paul was the one leading outside. The wall to his left was the staff/backroom, and behind both him and Chani were the side walls of the building. The wall behind Chani exploded then, rubble of brick and cobble grinding Chani's sudden screams into chorus. Paul was shocked a half-second longer, watching brick pieces tumble across the now-dusted floor, his ears ringing. But this was just the first shock of his increasingly-shit night, now.



Through the wisping dusts, an echoing, raspy voice clamored over Chani's terror-wails. "Arrrrgghhh! PAUL! It is I, na-BARON FEYD-RAUTHAAAA!!! HARKONNENNNN!!!"



Oh, f**k, this guy... A*****e Feyd-Rautha, my 'landlord'. Feyd was the kind of unhinged f**k*r who would wear a red wig one day and go bald the next. All because he was part of the Harkonnen barony, in which they were the most wealthy family in the entire country. They got a lot of latitude, in short. Paul put his face in hands, shaking side to side at it. Now Chani's gonna think I'm just as schizo as he is...



Feyd stepped through the rubble, wearing the most ridiculous getup of some kind of black onesie sci-fi costume, and striding right past the shaking Chani to the slumped Paul. Behind the 'na-Baron' came an escort of 6 guys dressed like emo jesters, replete with spikes on shoulders... Through his hands, Paul heard the gravely voice once more.



"Hey, bub. You're late on the payment again."



It wasn't even a real accent.

-

Spoiler: A/N

I will flanderize whatever I damn well please. Feyd-Rautha! Feyd-Rautha! Feyd-Rautha!

 

[ALandWithNoName]

~Who do we have?~

~Feyd-Rautha?~

~Hedley Tuek?~

~Chani?~







A single clap. One moment, Paul had been staring at the gargantuan form of some Hedley Tuek, another unannounced patron to Air A Kiss Coffee. The next? Paul stared down at a porcelain mug warming his palms... Wafts of steam rose over the liquid perfection within, but not even the pleasant aroma of full-bean roast assuaged... that. Vibrations of the coffee broke his reflection. Vibrations of his own two hands, that is.



Breaking his line of sight with Chani, a figure slipped in the both across from him. Paul looked up. Oh, Leto. How long has he been here? An unreadable face on an unreadable body. An unremarkable man in all things, save two. His striking velvet hair, which Paul just now noted was the same color as... as Chani's. Brother and sister? Leto chuckled right at the thought. What an uncanny gesture. The barista spoke before Paul could regroup. "I'm sorry about that, Paul. One of the unavoidable consequences when a worm dies. Funny isn't it, how a worm writhes in the rain?" The barista shook his head, looking out of the window.



Paul did the same. Daytime. Wasn't it night?



"I know what you're feeling, Paul. Part of you wants the assurity of truth. Of reality. You probably find yourself wandering, don't you? You spend all your money exploring the world, and you don't really know why."



Paul finally looked Leto in the eyes. Too shocked to say a word, but he did finally work out the other thing about Leto.



Despite looking in his early twenties, Leto had those deep eyes. Paul was on the verge of asking who the h**l this guy was, really, until that look made Paul's question screech on the rails. Instead, he asked, "I don't really want to know, do I?"



"No. You of all people really don't."



Paul found himself laughing at that response. He rolled his neck over the back of the booth seat, laughing at the ceiling. All that f*****g travel, all those countries, and all it took was some barista to finally push him off the cliff of insanity.



Leto pushed something across the table. Scraping noises, like paper. Paul sighed as he rolled back forward, head bobbing to what looked like a handful of tickets. Movie tickets? He looked to the barista.



Leto smiled. "Inception. I'm incorrigible that way."

-

Spoiler: Take A Slice - Glass Animals

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DySfgEj1hY

 

[ALandWithNoName]

~Near closing time~

~Chani, bent over her pocket book~

~Leto, tapping fingers to a song only he can hear~

~Paul, still winding down his frayed nerves~







Paul traced the rim of his mug with his index finger, suspecting fully the porcelain was paper just that day ago. Leto was probably right, it was likely best to not think on these things too much. Evening had nearly vanished outside the window, making the lights in the cafe all that much brighter, and it had fallen to quiet in the empty room with just the three. Paul sunk into his booth seat, glancing between both Leto and Chani.



The barista, still across in Paul's booth, was absentmindedly tapping his fingers in a rhythm, head subtly bobbing while staring to the setting sunset view outside. Chani was hunched over a small book, the sounds of pages flipping occasionally adding to Leto's drum-line.



A thought occurred to Paul. He directed it to Leto. "Hey, when is closing time?"



No change of movement. "Hm? Oh, whatever's comfortable. 7 I guess, but it doesn't really matter."



Paul leaned onto the table, sinking his cheek into cool wood, sighing, before stretching his arms across, loosening his shoulders. He then pulled his arms to cradle, and sunk his head into the pillow, glancing back to Leto. The barista's eyes held his gaze for a half-second of amusement, before calling over his shoulder to Chani behind them. "Miss Kynes? Any final call for the night?"



"No, Leto. Thank you." Paul closed his eyes to the sound of her voice. He swore the table-wood vibrated in echo.



Paul spoke from within the arm bowl. "I had so many questions, Leto. I've forgotten them all now. Why?"



"Because it's all in the past, Paul. We've made our choices, and we've asked all those questions a million times already. At some point, it no longer matters whether 'What if we're wrong?' has a definitive answer."



Leto's tone forced Paul out and to look sidelong back to him. It was surprisingly bitter, coming from such a gentle-looking man. And for some reason, Paul couldn't bring himself to find a retort to that.



He sunk back into his arms, mulling. It'd been so long now, steam wisps no longer curled from out of his mug, but the air was still heady from sugared coffee. He might no longer have had his original questions, but, with a small laugh, Paul asked Leto one more for the night.



"What's that song you keep drumming?"

-

Spoiler: A/N

there's a good chance this one'll be lost when (not if, lol) ao3 does a rollback. frickin' heck.

Spoiler: Black Out Days (Future Islands Remix) - Phantogram

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-qgMT1QrwQ