#excuse the lineart I’m too tired to fix it

[sentientsky]

[drops this at your feet like a dog with a bird at your door] here, whatever. have a depressed snek

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @compulsiveshipper!

Alec wasn't a big fan of cafes, especially since they'd get really busy when university would start, but there was that particular one just across the street from the main building, and it was perfection and more. Not only was it cozy, warm, looked friendly and relatively empty, but whenever he'd sit there, he could always set an alarm on his phone five minutes before a lecture starts and still be there on time since the cafe and his university were so close to each other.

Since one of the professors had fallen sick that week, he had more free time than expected but still struggled to save any of it, overflown with assignments and inventing new ways to get enough money to stay alive.

He soon discovered another advantage of buying drinks in that specific cafe - it was cheap, and nobody bothered him upon noticing that he was knee-deep in textbooks.

So that day he walked in during a free period and, without paying much notice to the young man behind the counter, requested softly, "A small Irish coffee, please."

The barista cleared his throat and rested his hands on the table. His nails were painted, Alec took subconscious note on that, but focused on reading until the man spoke.

"Excuse my intrusiveness, but are you old enough for that, sir?" His voice was much like a purr of a cat - it could mean anything, unreadable, really.

"What-" Alec's head shot up and his clear eyes were met with dark eyes of the stranger. Probably the darkest ones he'd ever seen, the brunet thought. It seemed like the blackness would roll down his cheeks any second like ink, it looked like if you stared at them for too long, they'd take up your entire world and swallow you like a galaxy of dying stars releasing their last screams.

Or, OR those textbooks on how exactly to draw a person's butt were so up in Alec's throat that literally anything not related to painting lower body parts seemed awfully attractive to him.

"Err, yeah. I am." He replied finally, and the barista tilted his head as if waiting for something. The strange stones braided into his equally black hair tinkled as they brushed together.

"Very well. Do you have an ID card or anything that could confirm it?"

"Uh, no." Alec gulped and took a quick breath, cornered. "But I've been ordering that nearly every day, you can ask-"

"Ah, it's alright, I'll just have to trust you." The man raised his hands cheerfully, fingers splayed. He was wearing a ton of rings for somebody that looked almost Alec's age, he noticed. The barista smiled and squinted at him. "Besides, you do look like you need a double round of that whiskey - uni struggles?"

"I guess." Alec frowned after a pause. "Wait, was that an insult?"

"For once, nope, not really. After all, it takes one to know one." The dark-eyed stranger chuckled lightly and shook his head in disbelief, pouring steaming black coffee into the cup. "Man, I, for one, have never seen somebody look so bored while looking at pictures of, err, body parts before."

"M-hm." Tired eyes found their way to the graphs and lineart again.

"Wow, you really are exhausted." The barista clicked his tongue as he grabbed the whiskey. "Might as well just give you the whole bottle of the thing."

"Can you even do that?" Alec raised his eyebrows in legitimate curiosity.

"Oh, if I could, they'd be out of alcohol the very day they gave me this part-timer." The other man laughed whole-heartedly and tilted his head again. "I study medicinal chemistry, what about you?"

"Fine arts."

"Oh! I should've realized that nobody looks at pictures of butts in public unless it's their field of study." He sniffed, barely holding back a grin. "But don't let me get in your way, that definitely sounds difficult. You don't look like an art kid, though."

"Well, you don't look like..." Alec squinted at the barista's uniform, finding the nametag in a blink of an eye. "You don't look like a Magnus."

"Ouch." He gasped dramatically and clutched at his chest for a second before cracking a smile. "Well, what do I look like then?"

"I don't know." He shrugged.

"Come on, pretty boy." The barista put a tiny sugar cube into the drink and reached for a spoon. "You're artistic, make up a name for me, won't you?"

"For all that is good in this world, don't call me that." Alec looked away, avoiding those piercing black eyes.

"Alright then, I'll attempt to guess yours." Magnus put the cup of coffee on the table and pushed it in his direction. "Here's your coffee, and... Thomas?"

"No."

"James?"

"Not even close."

"At least tell me the first letter!" Magnus complained.

"Nah." Alec attempted to take a sip of the coffee, but almost burnt his tongue.

"Please?" The other man sat down on the stool behind the counter, seeing there were no more customers to attend to, and propped up his chin with his elbow on the table.

"It's an 'A'." Alec revealed quietly.

"Hmm... Austin?" He guessed again.

"Alex?"

"Close, but nope."

"Al--" Magnus started, but the alarm went off in Alec's pocket. He took out his phone, eyes fixed on the warning that only five minutes were left until his next lecture starts, and the professor was not the warmest person in the world.

"Aaaand that was the bell for me." He sighed and closed his textbook. "I'm going to go now if I want to make it back on time."

"Don't forget your coffee, Angel." Magnus smiled and tapped the lid of the cup with one of his painted nails, taking the last guess at the same time.

"Nu-uh." Alec took the coffee and shook his head, finally gracing the man behind the counter with a smile.

"Well, perhaps next time I'll get it." He sighed in disappointment and crossed his arms.

"Will there be one?" Right before opening the door, Alec raised his eyebrows.

"You did say you order here almost every day, didn't you?" Magnus smiled and stood up, turning to the chalk menu on the wall and erasing a few coffee names with his hand, probably the ones they'd run out of ingredients for.

The smirk on his face indicated that whatever conversation they just had, he had won.

Alec held the cup close to his chest as he walked back, secretly thinking of it as a tiny heater and smiling thinly. Perhaps that was just a short conversation in a coffee shop, nothing to make of it, but he felt like he wasn't as tired anymore - and he hadn't even begun to drink.

Right before he entered the building, he remembered that if a customer gave no name in that shop, baristas usually wrote a cheeky nickname on the cup or doodled something silly on the lid. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to see what Magnus scribbled on for him, but curiosity took over and he glanced down, only to silently chuckle to himself.

Pretty boy, it said on the paper cup. The words were somewhere there in his head the entire day, making it unexplainably difficult to hold back a smile. Pretty boy.