DCxDP fanfic idea: The Human Bean Cafe
Danny opens a coffee shop. He titles it the Human Bean, a play on "human being" and an excuse to have bean bags everywhere. Mostly, though, it's titled that out of spite because of a bad reveal: his parents no longer consider him a human being, so this is his own personal f-you to them.
Danny decided that the Human Bean must be open in a dangerous city in the country because he thrives on negative emotions. It's his ghost diet. Rather than put himself in negative situations, he goes to places that have a lot of conflict and eats on second-hand sadness, feelings of helplessness, and overall human distress.
He chooses Gotham because it's dangerous and has a big enough difference in classes within the same city, which means that those emotions are always present, but it's not so dangerous that he could die on a regular walk. He avoided Bludhaven despite the fresh, for-the-picking emotions. That place is crazy.
Despite his necessary ghost diet, Danny is unusually upbeat and friendly. In Gotham, that usually means he's either A. Mad B. A goon/upcoming rogue. Or C. was a front for something far worse. People weren't too willing to get close to his brightly colored business/home, especially since he set up right smack in the middle of Crime Alley. He fixed up the building and chose white, yellow, and blue as his main colors, standing out even more among the broken-down buildings with faded red.
Danny doesn't mind. As Ghost King, he has so much money that he might be the richest man in the world- he just has no paper trail for his funds, so he runs his coffee shop for fun and as an excuse for where he gets his money.
He values comfort above all and has various seats throughout the building, including bean bags, electric recliners, hammocks, swing chairs, and, of course, regular tables and chairs. He wants it to be a place where someone can spend hours regardless of age. The oddness of the setup grabs the attention of a group of middle school kids who wander in cautiously. They spread the word about how cool the place is, and more and more people started to show up.
He offers odd services, too: free wifi, free printing, various craft supplies, rentable gaming systems, and message machines for feet or backs (the last two cannot leave the building). He only charges for drinks; all food items are free. Though he only offers pastries, it's first come first serve and he makes something different every day. If he runs out of pastries, he refuses to make any more until the next morning.
He encourages people to share their woes with him. Much like a bartender, Danny knows things about everyone because they find it easy to tell the man when he's offering them a warm drink and free food. It's almost therapeutic for some to just babble to the man in the comfort of his little coffee shop. Everyone in Crime Alley feels helpless and anxious. Danny is so well fed.
Then one day, a man arrives wearing a suit that might be worth more than Danny's entire building. He orders one black coffee, picks one of the regular plush chairs in the far corner, and doesn't talk much. He just spends two hours typing away on a laptop with a peaceful look on his face. It's almost believable if the emotions Danny senses from him weren't nearly as black as a void. It's delicious.
Danny does everything he can to talk to the man, taking small "bites" of his emotions (He needs to just stand next to someone long enough to start absorbing emotions), but for him to truly feed, he needs them to either share their woes or allow physical contact. But it's like talking to a dumb brick wall. The man has an iron grip on his emotions through sheer will, so Danny can sense the meal but can't reach it.
He all but begs him to come back as they settled the bill. He says he might, but it doesn't sound very convincing. Despite all of Danny's very generous offerings of wares and services, he knows that a man with that suit likely can offer far better. Too bad. He was the best meal he had had in a while. Danny almost accepts he won't see him again until two weeks later, the man returns, once again nearly dripping in sadness but held together by the duct tape of his will.
Danny nearly trips over himself trying to get him to stay. He pays attention to other customers and provides service, but whenever he can, he finds himself wandering back to the same table. He's nearly overwhelmed by how delicious the negative emotions are, and winds up a flustered mess. If anything, this seems to amuse the man who slowly allows himself to get pulled into conversation. Danny learns he is a single father of nine kids and is having a hard time with his two eldest.
Family issues are something Danny knows firsthand, and he finds himself offering advice, taking a seat at the table when his other customers leave, making them the only two people in the building. Danny makes them both a fresh pot of coffee and grabs some scones to share. Outside, Gotham decides it's a perfect time to let rain pour in buckets, and the man decides to wait it out with Danny, even though Danny had flipped the closed sign hours ago. By the time he left, Danny had eaten as much as he could, so much that he felt bloated.
This becomes a bi-weekly tradition, and Danny even starts marking his wall calendar in his room with a heart and "Tasty man comes in". Now, does that mean Danny doesn't know his name? Yes. Why? Because the man introduced himself, but Danny had been so busy taking sniffs of the air and savoring the depression, he didn't hear. It's too late to ask now. He avoids his name by using a nickname. Calls him B because he's pretty sure his name starts with that. B calls him D in turn. Danny is half convinced the other man doesn't know his name either.
This trend has persisted for 6 months. Still, Danny notices the man's depression slowly lessening, and soon, Danny realizes he's happier and actually brighter when he walks into the Human Bean. Which is great! Danny is happy for him! Except he's hungry. That was his favorite meal. What's going on!?
(Bruce Wayne is having trouble with his eldest kids again. Jason refuses to go to the Manor ever since Red Hood and Batman went on a mission together, and Dick is mad about something Bruce said. He isn't sure what it was, but midway through their conversation about Dick's relationship with Koriand'r, his son got angry and stormed out. This caused tension at the Manor with his other children, and Bruce just couldn't handle it. He had gone to a random cafe, somewhere discreet, just to hide from his family while he did some work. Just somewhere quiet and away from it all for a few hours. That's where he met Danny, a cute barista who was earnest and offered some advice on Bruce's dilemma. He tried the advice the other man gave him, and it somehow seemed to work; his sons had forgiven him)
(Bruce went back to the Human Bean more and more just to see Danny. Somehow, the man made him feel better every time, like the sadness that had been clinging to him since his parents' death slipped away. It didn't take Bruce long to realize he had started to look forward to seeing Danny, as he felt better every time he did, and it showed in his everyday life. They even have nicknames for each other! Not too creative ones since it's just the first letter of their names, but still.)
( His kids were convinced he was hiding a therapist or lover, but Danny wasn't any of those things. He was just happiness personified. Everyone who came to Human Bean loved Danny and agreed his cafe felt like a home away from home. Now, does Bruce's heartbeat speed up whenever he sees the man? Does he feel like he could watch Danny run his cafe for the rest of his life because of how much life Danny had? Does he lie at night wondering what Danny is up to? Yes, but that doesn't mean love! It just means Bruce really needs to make more friends.)
