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okay so I'm total vindell trash as of 3 hours and 5 minutes ago and I wanted to give you a prompt because your writing is the best and I'm a coffeeshop au whore. so pretty much Wendell works the evening shift at a coffee bar and Vincent comes in every open mic night and then one time he sings a song in a way that makes Wendell very happy....(wink wink) and then there's happy vindell ish

Hello there! First of all, I'm sorry that this took half a year. I don't really have an excuse. And this is only part one. Welcome to the fandom! Prepare yourself for the drought that is vindell literature 😂😂. I will apologize for anyone being off character, it has been a while since I watched any bones. In this story, since it's an au, I decided that Vincent still knows all of his random facts, but as been forced to learn how to keep them to himself. He only blurts them out when he is really flustered (wink wink). I also have no idea how open mic nights really work, as I have never been to one… so I apologize for any inaccuracies. Love the prompt, hope this lives up to your expectations! (I may have slipped in my headcanon that Vincent is a broadway geek, sorry not sorry)

Pardon the lazy revision and shitty formatting

Coffees and Wannabees (1/?)

Wendell Bray was content with his life. He enjoyed his job at the local coffee shop. He was happy with his small apartment and his small group of friends. Wendell was just fine if his life never changed. It was four o’clock when Wendell Bray arrived at the coffee shop for his shift. The shop was empty after the lunch rush. It was Friday which meant that tonight was an open mic night, so he had no doubts that he would be working late anyway. His co-workers greeted him as he entered the shop.

“How are you doing today, blondy?” Fisher asked him with a smirk.

“Just fine, thank you.” Wendell responded as he tied the baby blue apron around his waist and moved behind the coffee bar. Angela was waiting for him with a small cup of freshly brewed coffee and a smile.

“Here,” She said as she gave him the drink. “You’re gonna need it if we want to survive tonight.” He chuckled. Open mic nights weren’t that bad, unless they got some really bad singers. Sometimes they even got a gem or two. Nonetheless, Wendell accepted the coffee and got to work helping the young man that had entered the shop.

“Hello sir, what may I do for you?”

🔸🔸🔸

Vincent Nigel-Murray wanted more out of life. He wasn’t happy with his small dorm room and college life. Granted, Vincent was almost finished with his studies, but he had no future planned. The small group of friends that he had accumulated kept encouraging to follow his passion for music. Vincent was too smart for that. He knew that only 2.5% of artists reach any level of fame, and only 0.2% become household names. Because majoring in music was a waste of time and money, Vincent went to school for forensic anthropology

“Hey, Vinny, have you seen this?” Vincent looked up from the textbook he was reading and over at his roommate.

“You’ll have to be more specific, Sweets. Seen what?” Sweets rolled his eyes, but continued anyway,

“The coffee shop downtown, you know, the one Zach always goes to when he is trying to study, and we are being too loud?” Vincent nodded. “Well, they are holding an open mic night and I was thinking that maybe you should go and sing something..” Sweets kinda trailed off, and Vincent groaned.

“Why do you keep doing this? I promise that I’m fine. Contrary to whatever your psychology book keeps telling you, I’m not depressed. I’m just reasonable.”

“I disagree.” said a voice from the doorway.

“I didn’t ask you Zach.” Vincent grumbled.

“I never said that you had. I just said that I disagree with your statement. You are showing very clear signs of situational depression. I think you should attend the event.” Zach explained, and Sweets fistpumped the air.

“If I go, will you guys drop the whole music thing?” They both nodded vehemently. Vincent sighed, giving in. “Okay, fine. But just this once.”

🔸🔸🔸

Wendell didn’t think that there was enough caffeine in the world to help him tonight. Open mic night started at 7:30. It was 9:25, and Wendell knew that if he heard another rendition of Eye of the Tiger or Shake it Off he would start crying. Angela had snuck off about half an hour ago to make out with a handsome stranger who had wonderfully pullable curly brown hair. Wendell couldn’t blame her though, he was busy staring at a pale boy with dark hair and an adorable little frown. Clearly the kid had been dragged here by his friends, who were, as of two minutes ago, coaxing him onto the stage. Wendell wondered if the stranger could get any cuter than he was as he fidgeted with the mic and cleared his throat.

“Hello, um I’m Vincent Nigel-Murray. Nigel isn’t my middle name, I didn’t just announce my full name like some posh twat. I have a hyphenated last name. See my mom didn't want to give up her last name so she-”

Wendell was completely enamored with the awkward, apparently british, stranger. Vincent. Nice name, Wendell thought. Before Vincent could finished his spiel on hyphenated last names, the taller one of his friends interrupted him.

“Just sing already, ya twat.” Wendell chuckled at that, and Vincent cleared his throat one more time.

“Okay, fine.” Vincent glared at the man, but he was smiling. Wendell noticed that he had a rather nice smile. Wonder what it would be like if he was smiling at me… Wendell was convinced that this Vincent couldn't get any better, but then he began singing.

One song glory, one song before I go

Glory, one song to leave behind

Find one song, one last refrain

Glory, from the pretty boy front man

Who wasted opportunity

Wendell was floored. The brit could sing. Like really sing.

Vincent was holding the mic stand, his eyes closed. He was singing his heart out. Gone was the awkward rambler, Vincent was in his element. He could feel the music running through his veins. He hated to admit it but Sweets and Zach had been right. He had missed this feeling of being in complete control.

Time flies and then

No need to endure anymore

Time dies

Vincent opened his eyes as the song faded out. He smiled at his friends and scanned the cheering crowd. His eyes were drawn to a blonde man standing behind the bar. When he made eye contact the man whistled and winked. Vincent blushed and quickly left the stage to sit with his friends.

“Told ya.” Sweets announced when Vincent reached the table.

“Shut up Sweets.” Vincent laughed and sat down.

When Wendell entered the coffee shop for his evening shift six weeks later, he didn’t need Angela’s offer of coffee to keep him going for open mic night. Wendell craved Friday nights because it meant he got to see Vincent. Even better, he got to see Vincent perform. Wendell had been able to start some casual conversations with him, but nothing more than small talk had arose. For the first time in a while, Wendell Bray was not content with his life. He had first come to this realization the fourth time he saw Vincent perform.

🔸🔸🔸

“Hi, I’m Vincent. I’ll be singing On The Street Where You Live from My Fair Lady.” Some people who were familiar with the song cheered. Wendell had never heard of the song. So far, Vincent had only sung broadway songs. Wendell wanted to look them up, but he was sure that they could never compare to the majesty of Vincent’s voice. Actually, Wendell had stopped listening to most music because of Vincent. Not that he minded.

I have often walked

Down this street before

But the pavement always

Stayed beneath my feet before

All at once am I

Several stories high

Knowing I'm on the street where you live

Wendell was always surprised when Vincent began to sing. It was always better than he had remembered. The most memorable thing about this performance was Vincent’s eyes. Up until this night, Vincent had always had his eyes closed as he sang. Tonight they were open and staring right at Wendell. The brit continued to sing the beautiful love song, never dropping eye contact. Wendell was sure that he was blushing, but how was he supposed to react when those soft blue eyes were diving straight into his soul?

And oh the towering feeling

Just to know somehow you are near

The overpowering feeling

That any second you may suddenly appear

If Wendell hadn’t thought that Vincent was singing to him before, he thought it now for sure. Vincent made it clear that he wanted Wendell to know that the song was for him. All too soon, the song ended. Vincent left the stage as the applause slowly died.

“Hey, it looks like lover boy is coming this way.” Angela tease Wendell. She had been giving Wendell weird looks and making similar comments for two weeks know.

“Thank you Angela. What would I do without you?” Wendell quipped as Vincent walked over to the coffee bar.

Vincent made his way over to the attractive blonde barrarista, swallowing his nerves and hoping for the best.

“Hi.” Good, short and simple. Keep it that way, Vincent. Vincent smiled.

“Hey, what can I get for you?” The blonde, his nametag read Wendell, responded with a grin. Vincent might have lost it a little then, because Wendell had the most amazing smile. When the smile was directed at him, how was Vincent supposed to keep it together?

“Umm,” Vincent tried to hide his extreme awkwardness with his coffee order. “I’ll just have a medium coffee, with cream.” Wendell grabbed a medium cup and wrote the correct order of letters so that Fisher could make the appropriate drink. He wrote ‘Vincent’ on the bottom of the cup, smiling as he crossed the t. He drew a little heart after the boy’s name because what the hell. Then he handed the cup to Fisher and turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

“That’ll be $2.95, sir.” Wendell pushed a few buttons on the register. Vincent fumbled with his wallet, pulling out a 5 dollar bill.

“Um, you can- my name.. It’s Vincent. Not sir.” He mumbled as he handed over the money. Wendell chuckled.

“I know.” Wendell said it before he could stop himself. Good job. Now he thinks you’re a creep!

“What?” Vincent was surprised. He knows my name.

“I just mean. I um, I’ve seen you perform here before. You’re uh. You’re very good.” Wendell stuttered. “Here’s your change. 5 cents makes three, four, and five.” Wendell handed him a nickel and two dollars. Their fingers brushed. Wendell quickly pulled his hands away, stuffing them into his pockets. Before either of them could think of something else to say, Fisher called Vincent’s name.

“Well, uh thank you. For the coffee and the complement.” Vincent smiled and picked up his coffee. He pulled his coat shut and left the coffee shop. Vincent was back in his dorm before he noticed the small note and the six numbers on his cup.

Wendell will never work up the guts

so here is his number:

555-0219

When you get married you owe me.

Fisher.

Vincent didn't know whether to be grateful or embarrassed. Of course he was ecstatic that he had Wendell’s number, but he didn't think that he could work up the guts to text the hot blonde. How would he start? ‘Hey, this is Vincent. The singer from the cafe who always performs bad renditions of broadway songs? Yeah your friend wrote your number on my coffee cup because apparently my crush on you is glaringly obvious.’ Vincent couldn't do it. He didn't have the people skills to try and explain why he had Wendell’s number. Still, he did put the number in his contacts in case someday he should think of a witty opener.

🔸🔸🔸

“Hey Wendell?” Angela called from the back of the cafe.

“Yes?” Wendell handed a lady her change, “Have a nice day, ma'am. What is it Angie?”

“I just wanted to remind you that I have a date tonight so you and Fisher are alone tonight.”

“Come on, Montenegro!” Fisher groaned. “You have to leave us on an open mic night!” Wendell chuckled. He had been thinking the exact opposite. If Angela wasn't working tonight then maybe he could talk to Vincent without all of the knowing looks and awkward winks from her. Angie just shrugged and ruffled Wendell’s hair.

“Don't worry, Colin. You’ll have Wendell to keep you company.” Fisher didn't looked very excited at the outcome,

“Great.” He mumbled. Angela and Wendell laughed, and she went to set up the mic and music system.

Before long, people started to file into the cafe They went about their ways ordering drinks, finding tables, and flipping through the provided songbook. Wendell noticed Vincent immediately. He was with one of his friends from the first time he had visited. They made eye contact, and Wendell gave him a little wave.Vincent smiled and started to make his way to the coffee bar while his friend found a table.

“Back again I see, medium coffee with cream?” Wendell asked.

“You know my order.” Vincent smiled. “And a large caramel macchiato for Sweets.”

“Sweets?” Wendell questioned as he wrote down the orders on the cups and handed them to Fisher.

“Yeah, the guy I came in with. We live together, and he’s mad that I keep going out on Friday without him. So he made me drag him along tonight.” Vincent chuckled at the memory. Wendell’s heart dropped. They lived together. They hung out together on Friday nights. Of course Vincent had a boyfriend; it made complete sense.

“Yeah? He sounds like a chill guy.” Wendell made a poor attempt to hide his envy. “The coffees will be $6.50.” Wendell quickly changed the subject. He felt like he might puke, and he should probably get some fresh air soon.

“Oh yeah, umm one second.” Vincent pulled a six dollars out of his wallet and dug into the front pocket of his jeans. (The jeans that might have been painted on and should definitely be illegal. Stop that, Wendell! He has a boyfriend) Vincent pulled out two quarters and placed them on the counter. “There you go.” Before Vincent could move down the counter to pick up his drink, Sweets ran up to him.

“Hey buddy. I know I said that I was missing you and wanted to hang out but umm. You see what happened was..” He trailed off and gave Vincent a loaded look.

“Daisy?” Vincent question with a smug smirk.

“Daisy.” Sweets confirmed.

“You are so whipped. Tell her I say hey.”

“Will do. Good luck tonight, you’ll be great.” He said, and then as an afterthought, “I’m not whipped!” Vincent laughed at his friend and turned back to the barista.

“Um, here’s your receipt. I uh, I thought he was your boyfriend. Who’s Daisy?” A line of patrons was beginning to form behind Vincent, but Wendell didn't care. For once in his life, he was going to take what he wanted. He wasn’t just going to wait and see what life brought his way.

“Thanks.” Vincent replied as he took the piece of paper. “Wait what? Me and Lance Sweets? No way. Daisey is Sweets’ girl, well Daisey is the man of the relationship actually. He’s straight. Well actually, now that I think about it-” Vince was cut off.

“So, you’re single?” Wendell stopped listening after ‘No way’. He wanted to be a part of this man’s life. He wanted to hold his hand, kiss his forehead, wear his clothes, sleep by his side. Wendell would do anything if he was doing it with Vincent.

“Yes?” Vincent was cautious. Did Wendell like him? Or was Wendell just making fun of him? He hoped it was the first one. He couldn’t imagine many things that would be better than dating Wendell would be. Vincent could picture himself wrapped up in those strong arms, his head resting on Wendell’s broad shoulders.

“Vincent and Sweets. Medium coffee with cream and Caramel Macchiato.” Fisher called from the other side of the counter. Vincent finally noticed the line of semi-annoyed people behind him.

“Oh, goodness.” Wendell didn't want to even start on how cute the brit was when flustered. Vincent apologized to the people behind him, “I'm so sorry.” Then to Wendell, “I’ll talk to you afterwards, yeah?” Wendell nodded and smiled sheepishly at the next customer.

“Sorry about that, how can I help you, sir?”

Vincent grabbed his coffee, leaving the caramel macchiato on the counter. He made his way to his seat, thinking about what song he should sing. He knew Wendell would be watching. With the new knowledge that his feelings for the blonde might be reciprocated, Vincent knew that this performance had to be perfect. Then suddenly, he had it: the perfect song.

About four songs and two poems later, Vincent approached the stage. Wendell had left Fisher behind the counter to take care of the one or two customers that drifted towards the counter. Meanwhile, Wendell busted the tables. When Vincent reached the mic, he stopped everything he was doing and gave the singer his full attention.

I have dreamed thee so long

Never touched thee, nor seen thee

But known thee with all of my heart

Half a prayer, half a song

Thou hast always been with me

Though we have been always apart

Wendell knew this song. It was an old one. His mother used to sing it to him before he went to sleep. Dulcinea. He smiled and listened to the beautiful voice carry the song through the cafe. Something clicked in Wendell; he knew, then and there, that he had to get Vincent’s number.

The cafe started to clear out and Wendell decided to make his move.

“Hey there Vincent. I was a wondering if, maybe, I could get your number?” Wendell knew he sounded less confident than he had hoped but he willed the genuine feeling in his voice to overpower the self consciousness. Vincent was surprised by the question. Sure, Fisher had literally spelled out that Wendell liked Vince, but still Vince was unsure. His heart fluttered at the chance to start something with this boy.

“Actually, I'll just text you tonight. I've got your number.” Vincent smiled. Wendell did not. “Shit. That’s not what I meant. I'm not a creeper, I swear. Your friend gave it to me. He wrote it on my coffee cup a few weeks ago.”

Wendell’s questions came in rapid fire, “He did what!? A few weeks ago? What the hell is going on? Fisher!” Colin peeped his head into the cafe.

“Yeah? I’m just doing some inventory. What do you need?” Fisher asked, clueless to the stir he had caused.

“Next time you want to fuck up my love life, maybe give me some warning? I can pick up cute guys without your assistance.” Wendell’s fists were balled at his side. Fisher slowly began to realize what he had done. He glanced over at Vincent, who looked defeated.

“Woah woah woah. I was just-” Fisher started to explain himself, but at the same time Vincent spoke.

“I’ll just show myself out.” And then, to himself, “Didn't realize I was about to fuck up your life.” Vincent turned and quickly left the shop before he started to cry. He heard Wendell shout his name, but he ignored it. Instead he climbed into his car and locked the doors. As he started the engine, he also started to tear up. Vincent spent the whole drive home angrily swiping at the burning tears making paths down his cheeks.

When Vincent arrived at his dorm, the door was shut, and he could hear Sweets and Daisy inside, probably making out if his ears were correct. “Sweets! Daisy!” Vincent yelled as he pounded on the door. “Let me in, I'm not in the mood to sleep in the common room again.” He heard shuffling, then Sweets opened the door with a blissed out look on his face. Daisy was behind him, sitting on Sweets bed with a smug grin. “Ew. Why can't you heterosexuals keep it in your pants?” Daisy frowned a little before answering,

“What’s your problem?”

“He hasn't gotten laid in a very long time. I thought maybe tonight he would go home with the cute blonde barista, but I guess he just couldn't live knowing that he had let me have the dorm for one night.” Sweets replied with slight annoyance. Vincent just groaned and flung himself onto his bed.

“Can we not talk about my love life? Because right now it is in the dumpster. And will probably stay there for a while.” Vincent huffed angrily.

“Woah, calm down, you aren't actually mad at me. You're projecting. What the hell happened?” Sweets entered full psychologist mode, analyzing Vincent’s mental health.

“19% of people in the U.S. never get married. I’m fine, Sweets. Stay the hell out of it.” Vincent sighed. He stood up, grabbing his bag and keys. “I’m heading out, the dorm is all yours.” He said sarcastically.

“Vincent!” Daisy called after him, but he didn't turn around.

“Shit, something is really wrong with him.” When Sweets met Vincent, the Brit was always spouting irrelevant and pointless knowledge, but as bullies and annoyed teachers wore him down, Vincent learned to keep his facts to himself. Now, they only escaped when he was experiencing some type of intense emotion.

“Well no shit Sherlock.” Daisy hit the back of his head. “It doesn't take a pysch degree to figure that out.” She shook her head.

“Ow.” Sweets complained, “Well then, miss smarty-pants, what are we gonna do about it?”

#seattledays #vindell #vindell fanfiction #vincent nigel-murry #wendell bray #angela montenegro #jack hodgens #zack addy #zach addy #lance sweets #daisy #bones #bones fanfic #coffees and wannabees #part one