That Time When You’re Offered a Job by the Very Same Guy You Just Tried to Mug
(For the redtaxproject, a scene from my personal superhero AU :))
“I’ll kill you, y’know?” Tommy grumbles, scowling up at the man through the bag of groceries he’d been given to carry.
“Mmhmm.” The man hums, completely unbothered as he continues leading Tommy to… somewhere. The man had said he was going back home, and that Tommy could join him for a meal if he wanted— so long as he helped carry the groceries. But even Tommy wasn’t dumb enough to bring a stranger who’d just threatened to kill and rob him back home.
It’s probably a trap, or something. Tommy’s probably gonna die, in the basement of some weirdo’s house, with no one to mourn him. If he’s lucky the man will just take him back to child services, or the police. If he’s unlucky he’ll end up as a lab rat and buried six feet under.
But the offer of a warm meal was too tempting— he hadn’t eaten anything decent in days. And honestly, it’s not like he’s got much else to lose is there?
Nothing to lose except my freedom and my life, Tommy thinks, sardonically.
“I’ll kill you, y’know,” Tommy repeats. “I’ll stab you in your fucking sleep and rob your house blind.” He glared, staring intently at the man as they continued down the darkened streets.
The man turned, a small, little smile still quirked up on his lips— and Tommy scowled harder. It pissed him off, how unbothered the man was, how— how amused he seemed to be at Tommy’s threats which. Well. Considering how unafraid the man was when Tommy was armed with a fucking knife, it probably shouldn’t be too surprising that he didn’t find Tommy very threatening at all.
“My name is Dream.” The man, Dream, says. And Tommy almost trips over his own feet at the suddenness of it. Barely managing to avoid falling face first onto the hard concrete and crushing the bag of groceries in his arms.
What?
“What?”
“Call me Dream.” And— yup, the bastard was fucking laughing at him right now.
Tommy scowls, harder— his face feeling sore from the effort of making his displeasure known. And checks his bag to make sure nothing had fallen out or gotten crushed accidentally.
“What’s your name?” Dream asks, and Tommy flips him off, stomping down the street ahead of him before stopping when he realized he didn’t know where to go.
Dream laughs, quiet, like that stupid grin, like the way he moves, like his almost silent footsteps and how he’d effortlessly disarmed Tommy, before Tommy had even realized what was happening. He hates the way Dream presents himself, quiet and unassuming. Like he’s not a threat. Like he’s not the most dangerous fucking thing around for the next hundred miles.
Why was he following this bastard again?
Right, food. That’s why.
Tommy’s stomach growls loudly at the reminder, and he instantly feels his ears grow red in embarrassment.
“Haha, don’t worry, we’re here.” Dream says, stopping next to him. Tommy looks around, and then at the door Dream had turned to. It was one of those side entrances that led directly to the second floor of a building. There wasn’t much else to it, the door being plain and undecorated, save for a tiny smile sticker next to the peakhole.
Well, it’s not like there would’ve been much room for decorations, considering the way it’s been sandwiched between an office building and, what? Tommy squinted up at the sign of the building next door, just making out the letters for “Kitten’s Kafe”. A cat cafe.
Tommy turned back to Dream, who had set his bags down, and was lightly searching his pockets for the keys, before giving up and fishing one out from underneath the cafe’s welcome mat.
Huh. Tommy thinks, that’s interesting.
“Just give me a second to put things away and get something warmed up.” Dream said, catching Tommy’s attention again as he opened the door. “You can pass me the bags and—“
Not letting the man finish, Tommy immediately pushes his own bags into Dream’s hands and rushes through the door, up the stairs.
“—take off your shoes!” Dream finishes behind him, and Tommy pauses at the top of the stairs to kick off his shoes before opening the second door into a rather spacious living area and kitchen combination.
Quickly scoping the space out, Tommy takes note of the large windows to his left. The blinds were closed, but he guessed it wouldn't be too difficult to shatter and escape through if need be. The fall would be about— two stories, Tommy guessed. Not too bad, but dangerous if he landed wrong.
Moving past the living room Tommy found a short hallway. It led to a dead end, splitting off left and right, with the left turn ending at a door, and the right turn extending further down into the house. Before he could take a step further though, Tommy felt a hand grab the back of his shirt and lift him up, like some unruly cat, or raccoon.
“Hey!” Tommy yelped, even as he was set back down in the living room. “What the hell was that for?!”
“Nothing nothing, just thought you’d like to know that the food’s ready.” Dream says, holding up his hands placatingly. ….holding up his empty hands.
Whipping around Tommy quickly took in the sight of a steaming grilled cheese on the kitchen table, a plate of bacon and a glass of warm milk next to it. The bags of groceries were piled on the floor next to the fridge.
He blinks, feeling like the world had skipped a beat, like a broken record. But the bags were still piled by the fridge, and the food still sat steaming on the table.
When he looked back, Dream was already making his way to the abandoned groceries, sorting through their contents and putting them away. Tommy continued staring, slack jawed.
“How— Wha— What the fuck?! How the fuck did you do that?!”
“How did I do what?” Dream questions, head tilted but not turning away from his work.
“That— ALL THAT.” Tommy yelled, pointing incredulously at the food. Belatedly, the smell reaches him and his stomach began protesting when Tommy didn’t start stuffing his face.
“Oh uh.” And Dream stands, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “You were kinda just staring at the window for like, a good minute or two. I didn’t wanna bother you so I went and heated up the food.”
Tommy continued to stare. Dream looked away, hand dropping.
“Do you uh, do you not want it…?”
“Are you fucking kidding me of course I want it! Just. How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?” Tommy squinted, settling down in front of the food, carefully sitting on top of his hands.
“What, you think I poisoned the food or something? If I wanted to hurt you I’d have done so in that alleyway— not bring you back to my house.” Dream scoffs, putting the last of the groceries away and throwing the extra bags under the sink.
Moving around the table, Dream sat down in front of Tommy, and crossed his arms.
“Look, if you really want, I can take a bite and prove it’s not poisoned or anything—“
“No! No, it’s fine. I’m not fucking Snow White ok? I don’t need you to prove shit.” And to back his own words Tommy finally let himself reach out and take a bite of the grilled cheese.
It’s good. It’s better than good. The bread was slightly stale, and the cheese had solidified within the sandwich, but it’s the best fucking thing he’s had to eat in weeks. Before he’d realized it, the grilled cheese was gone, his stomach comfortably full for the first time in, who knows how long it’s been.
In front of him, Dream seemed to relax, that stupid smile of his back on his face.
Tommy shot a suspicious look in his direction, before grabbing the milk. He sniffed it, shrugged, and tossed it back quickly. Then snatched a piece of bacon to chew on.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Dream asks. Tommy shoots him a look, swallowing.
“What do you think, bitch?”
Dream blinks.
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to ask. And my name is Dream.”
“Nah. Your name is now Bitch Boy. Cause you’re a bitch.” Tommy grins smugly, very proud of his comeback.
“Do you always insult the people who give you food?” Dream grumbles, smile finally dropping.
“No-pe!” Tommy grins further, emphasizing the word with a pop. “Just you Bitch Boy!”
“Great.” Dream mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tommy paid him no mind, carefully using his last piece of bacon to gather up the grease left behind on his plate.
“So, are you gonna tell me your name, or should I keep calling you Kid?” Dreams asks, raising an eyebrow as Tommy licks his plate clean.
“I’m not a kid. I’m a big man. A full grown adult if you will.”
“Whatever you say ‘Big Man’.” Tommy flipped him off, then looked under his empty plate, as though more food would suddenly magically appear if he just checked.
“You got anymore food Bitch Boy?” Tommy asks, looking down the center of his empty cup. Staring intently at Dream through the glass like it was a telescope.
Dream’s expression seemed to twist, warping weirdly through the glass, and Tommy found that he much preferred this to the man’s actual face.
“Hey!” Tommy yelped, hands reaching out towards his cup as it was snatched away. When he looked up, Dream’s smile was gone, a faint frown marring his face.
It was strangely less irritating.
“What?” Tommy snaps, when the silence dragged on for too long, and Dream blinks. Shaking his head and schooling his expression back into a smile. Tommy scowls.
“Stop that.”
“What?” Confusion flits across his face.
“That.” Tommy repeats, pointing at Dream’s face until the man goes cross eyed. “Your face. That fucking smile or whatever. It’s fucking creepy.”
“What?” Dream says, incredulous. A hand instantly going up to cover his mouth. Something defensive settled over the man.
“You heard me. I said your smile’s fucking creepy.”
“I—! My smile is not creepy!”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Tommy scoffs, rolling his eyes. “It makes you look like fucking a serial killer, or a super villain or some shit.”
“Wha— I do not look like a serial killer!”
“So does that make you a super villain then?”
“No!” Dream sputters, scowling at Tommy.
With a grumble, Dream gets up and grabs the empty plate and cup, bringing them to the sink in the kitchen. Tommy quietly watched him wash the dishes from the table.
“I was going to ask,” Dream starts, breaking the silence. “If you needed a place to stay.” Tommy looked up, but Dream wasn’t paying him any mind, attention focused on the cup he was scrubbing clean. He wasn’t smiling anymore, Tommy notes smugly, but he also wasn’t frowning. Instead an oddly flat look had taken over his face, like Dream wasn’t quite sure about the expression he should make.
“...and what’s it to you?” Tommy responds, defensive.
“Well,” Dream drawls out, hands still scrubbing at the cup. “I own the cafe under us, but we’re a little understaffed at the moment.” Setting the glass aside and shaking his hands dry, Dream finally looks back at Tommy. “So I was wondering if you’d like to spend the night here, in exchange for helping out around the cafe tomorrow.”
Tommy squints at him, instantly suspicious.
“How do I know it’s not a trap?”
Dream rolls his eyes, picking up the plate and drying it with a cloth.
“We’ve been over this already. If I wanted to do something to you I would’ve done so in that alleyway, not bring you into my house and feed you.”
“So? You could just be doing that to lower my fucking guard!”
“What?” Dream shakes his head, setting the plate aside, hand rubbing at his forehead. “Look, kid,” Tommy scowls. “Big Man, whatever. I’m not gonna do anything to you, and I’m not trying to either. I have somewhere to be tomorrow, so I can’t help manage the cafe and there’s only one other person who can come in at that time. It’s handleable but I’d rather not overwork my only employee if I don’t have to.
“If you don’t like the offer, feel free to leave and go back to wherever it is you’re staying. I’m not gonna make you stay and force you to work or whatever.”
Tommy considers this, and then considers Dream, blank faced with the slightest downwards twitch of his lips. He looked tired, Tommy notes. The way he’s ever so slightly slouched. How he’s subtly leaning his weight against the counter.
He looks defeated. Which just feels wrong on someone who could kick his ass blind folded and with both hands tied.
Which, speaking of…
“Teach me how to fight.”
“What?” Dream blinks.
“I said, teach me how to fight.” Tommy reiterates, puffing his chest out in emphasis.
“I’m not gonna teach a kid how to use a knife.” Rolling his eyes, Dream turned to put the cleaned dishes away.
“Well, yes you are.” Tommy huffs, getting up and moving to stand in the man’s way. “Because if you don’t I’m gonna walk on out of here and you’re gonna have to live with the guilt of kicking a homeless kid out of your house.”
“So you admit you’re a kid?” Dream asks, quirking an eyebrow, lips twitching reluctantly up.
“No! I’m only using that as an example!” Tommy exclaims, appalled at the very suggestion that he was anything less than an adult.
“Whatever you say.” Dream shakes his head, heaving a sigh. Setting the dishes back down, the man began messaging the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath.
“I’m not going to teach you how to use a knife—“
“Hey—!”
“Because you’re gonna get yourself or someone else hurt and I don’t want the police coming to me when someone inevitably gets stabbed.”
“I’m not gonna stab anyone, just threaten them a little with my amazing knife skills.”
“But,” And Dream looks at Tommy, considering. “If you decide to help out at my cafe, I won’t say no to showing you some self defense moves after hours.”
Tommy perked up.
“So you’re gonna teach me how to fight?”
Dream turned away, finally placing the cleaned dishes into the cupboard.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Uhhhh, yes you did.” Grinning, Tommy walked up to the man, poking him lightly in the side. Dream twitched. “You definitely fucking said you’d teach me how to fight.”
“No, I said I’d show you a few self defense moves.” Dream nodded, “Very different things.”
Tommy wasn’t listening, instead doing a silent victory dance in his head as he dashed around the counter, back towards the hallway.
“Hey, slow down there kid.” Dream says, snatching Tommy by the back of his shirt before he can turn the corner. “I need to set some ground rules.”
Tommy makes a face at that, sticking his tongue out childishly, but didn’t make any moves to run when Dream set him down again.
“Ok, first of all, don’t steal anything. Hey! I’m being serious. My other employee sometimes spends the night here, and he’s got his stuff lying around in the guest room. The other guest room is full of junk and you’ll be staying in his room for the night. So don’t touch anything that doesn’t belong to you.
“Second, the shower’s down the hall. You can use the stuff that’s in the room, but I’m expecting you to put everything back where you found it, ok? Also, please don’t flood the place. It’ll be a nightmare to clean up.
“Third, you’re not allowed in my room. You’ll know when you see it. If you need anything just, knock. But if I find you snooping around in there then the deal’s off. Am I clear?”
“Yes yes! No stealing, no griefing, no going into fucking the end– can I go now?” Tommy squirmed under Dream’s gaze, trying his best to look on his best behavior.
“No going into the– what?” Dream shakes his head, a little confused at Tommy’s turn of phrase, before patting his shoulder. “Yes, ok. You can go. Just don’t forget to get ready tomorrow, we open at 10am!”
“Yeah yeah, see you in the morning bitch!”
OMAKE:
“And that’s how I found myself working at this cafe.”
“Wait, so you didn’t have to lie about your age and pester him for weeks?”
“What?”
“What?”