Work Text
Steam poured out of the machine with a sharp, animalistic hiss. Peter snatched his hand back as the steam wand bit him. He swore under his breath as the burn bloomed on his fingers, but he quickly went back to his task of making an extra hot, no foam, decaf latte for the waiting soccer mom who was tapping her fingers impatiently on the bar. Peter plopped her drink in front of her just as she checked her watch and tutted, as if waiting two minutes for a coffee was unreasonable for her. Peter plastered on his fakest smile and wished her a good day as she tossed her hair at him in disdain.
His smile dropped when she turned, and he barely refrained from rolling his eyes when she scoffed and barged past the large man who was entering the coffee shop. Despite his size, the man let the woman shove past her, and he hunched further into his dark hoodie and cap, as if trying to diminish his own presence. Peter frowned at the display, and decided that the soccer mom was officially his most hated customer. He shook his head and turned back to the register, ready to greet the man as he drew near.
“Good afternoon, what can I get you today?” Peter greeted brightly. The man approached warily, keeping his head down to hide his face in shadow with his cap.
“A cinnamon mocha please,” his deep voice rumbled. He lifted his head slightly to smile at Peter, whos breath caught at the sight of the nervous smile, eyes widening as he also took in the scarred appearance. Peter blinked to try and mask his brief shock, and he returned the man’s smile tenfold, positively beaming at him to try and put this man at ease when he was so obviously out of his comfort zone.
“What name?” Peter said, slightly breathless at the smile this man shot back at him, so charming and full of unspoken promise.
“Wade, but you can call me whatever you damn well please, cutie.” Wade’s smile had gone from ten to a hundred in a split second, suddenly radiating confidence as he leaned on the counter. “Sure I ain’t seen you in another life? I swear I’ve seen that booty with spandex painted on it before.” He not-so-subtly angled his body round to ogle Peter from every angle possible. Peter blushed and squirmed over Wade’s scrutiny.
“Sorry sir, but I think I’d remember eyes as stunning as yours,” he replied, feeling braver than he had in a long time. Wade looked surprised for a split second before he smirked.
“Maybe we should reserve ‘sir’ for a more private location, sweetcheeks.” He produced a bulging wallet from his jeans. “How much do I owe you?”
Peter cleared his throat, trying to appear less affected than he felt. “It’s on me today,” Peter’s voice cracked as he said it, betraying his attempt at being smooth. His blush deepened, lighting his features on fire. He coughed and turned, grabbing a cup and scrawling Wade’s name before rushing over to the coffee machine. His neck prickled with warmth, and he turned just in time to see Wade’s eyes dart away from him. Peter raised an eyebrow when Wade tried to whistle nonchalantly, and rolled his eyes as he turned back to the machine. The tiny hairs on his neck fluttered again, and he preened now that he knew why. He cocked his hip just slightly and relished in the near silent hitch of breath his enhanced hearing picked up from Wade.
The coffee didn’t take long to make, and Peter presented it with his usual lack of flourish. He glanced at the till, checking that there was no one waiting in line, pleased that nobody wanted his attention besides Wade right now. Wade had a tentative smile on his face, as if he didn’t expect to hold Peter’s attention much longer. He took a sip of the coffee before him, not even flinching at the temperature and moaning quietly at the taste.
“Hot damn, someone knows really knows his stuff! With these skills you’ve got a permanent regular in me,” he paused, and his eyes flickered up and down Peter’s frame. They stilled on the name tag attached to his apron. “Peter… That’s a nice name, it suits you.”
Peter flushed slightly and grinned. “I always thought it was kinda boring…” he trailed off, eyebrows raising at Wade's shocked expression. “What?”
“Boring?! Sweetheart, I could never insult you in such a way,” Wade's voice dipped slightly, giving the pet name a sultry touch. Peter laughed, feeling slightly breathless. He'd never experienced anything close to the man standing in front of him and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want more.
“You sure are a sweet talker. You flirt with every barista that can make a decent coffee?” Peter's stomach churned slightly with nerves, unused to being so forward.
“Oh honey, no! You're special, knew it the second I caught your glare at mommy bitch's back.”
Peter ducked his head at that. “I didn't think you saw that…” His eyes flickered up and he fixed a heated look at Wade through his eyelashes. “Sure am glad you did though.”
Wade looked as if he'd just had the breath punched out of him, mouth hanging slightly open and transfixed with Peter. His watched beeped - Hello Kitty, why wasn't Peter surprised? - and Wade swore, glancing down at it. He rummaged around in his back pocket and produced a small card.
“I don't do this often, because of the whole face deal, but please call me baby boy. Pretty please?” He held the card between two fingers in front of Peter, who nodded and took it.
“I will, Wade.” Saying his name felt special, and Wade must have felt the same way. His lips quirked and his eyes shone with a quiet hope.
“Good.” He gave a small wave and left, coffee held safely in one large hand, not looking back.
Peter looked down at the card and muffled his giggles into his free hand.
“
Wade Wilson, Professional Trouble Maker
”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A deep, animalistic howl broke the relative silence. Knelt in front of Deadpool was a pathetic looking man, now missing two of his ten fingers. Blood poured sluggishly from the open wounds on the man's hands, and he curled around himself as he sobbed.
“Still got nothing to say for yourself?” Deadpool's voice cut off the pained man, silencing him with the anger in his tone.
“I swear I-”
“Didn't do anything?” Deadpool interrupted. “Don't know why I'm here? I thought you were a smarter man than that. Though I could hardly call pond scum like yourself a man.” He punched the man, making him to fall backwards, then stepped forward and rest his foot on his crotch.
“Admit it before you make this worse for yourself.” The man whimpered as Deadpool steadily increased the pressure with his foot. He smirked under his mask when the man under him started to writhe in pain and desperation. Deadpool ground his foot and growled out, “admit it!”
He sobbed and cried out, “fine! I fucking did it! I hurt her I-”
Deadpool cut him off again, this time with a bullet to the brain. “Disgusting,” he spit out, kicking the twitching body for good measure. He checked his watch and tsked.
“Damn pervert made me late.” He twisted on his heel and skipped away, whistling. He wandered the streets of New York for a while, barely anyone taking a second glance at the get up. The meandering took him on a vague course towards the object of his thoughts, and he soon found himself across the street from the closed Starbucks that had been bustling earlier that day. Taking another glance at his watch, he distantly noted the time at around half nine at night. He tsked again, and almost turned to leave before movement caught his eye.
In the dark, behind the counter, stood Peter. He was cleaning the coffee machine meticulously, and Deadpool saw a flash of metal in his hand.
Not cleaning, fine tuning. Peter had a screwdriver and he was adjusting the porta filters on the heavy machine. He was incredibly focused on his work, so he surprised Deadpool by standing up suddenly, gazing out the window at where Deadpool was five seconds earlier. Deadpool squeaked and ducked behind a nearby trash can, praying that his massive bulk was obscured. Nothing happened, and when he peeped up over the top, Peter was once again focused on his work. He let out a quiet breath, and stayed crouched as he watched Peter work. Every now and then, Peter glanced up and looked around, scanning the street outside the cafe window. The motion intrigued Deadpool, either he was really paranoid or he knew he was being watched.
It wasn’t too long before Peter started packing away his tools, preparing to leave. Deadpool stood and slipped into a nearby alley, watching the cafe from the cover of darkness. Peter left through the front door, backpack slung over his shoulder as he locked up after himself. He turned and strode away, hitching his bag to sit comfortably on his back. Deadpool slowly trailed after him, sticking to the shadows and stopping often to try and blend into the night.
Peter walked for a few blocks, staying in the brightness of the street lights. As he followed, Deadpool kept a sharp eye on the surroundings. He already knew the area wasn’t exactly the safest in New York City, and he reassured himself that he wasn’t “
stalking
”, he was looking out for a potential victim! This is what heroes did right? They prevented crime! He was just a step ahead of the criminals this time!
Sure
, Deadpool thought sarcastically,
Because I’m the most heroic guy around.
He turned swiftly into an alley, taking cover against a wall and peeking around the corner. Peter walked on, oblivious to his 200lb follower. None of the other supers may have taken a liking to him, but with his particular brand of crazy, they all tended to avoid him. Leaving him to situations like this undisturbed. For once, Deadpool was thankful for being so unpopular in the super-powered circle.
He trailed after Peter to a subway station, happy enough with his relative safety for now. Deadpool huffed into the night and started heading for his own home. He still needed to wash the perv smell off of his suit.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Trains rumbled past with deep roars, grounding Peter and shaking him out of his anxiety-driven thoughts. A single bead of sweat dripped from his hair into the collar of his shirt and he shuddered.
Gross
.
He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to ease the leftover tingles running up the back of his spine and making the short hairs on his neck stand on end.
Someone had definitely followed him after work. He glanced around, attempting to look casual and failing miserably. That someone was definitely not following him now. Another shaky breath fell past his lips. The person following had been professional, that was for sure. Peter hadn’t been able to get a single glimpse at whoever it was, which was very worrying. Why would a professional be stalking him? He’d stayed out of trouble since Uncle Ben snagged him from the brink back when he was fifteen. Seven years of keeping his head down should’ve been paying off! He was doing well at college, focusing on his studies and working towards his Masters degree on a scholarship, working a part time job that was easy to excel at…
What did he do wrong?!
Peter forced himself to take another deep breath. It wasn’t going to help anything if he obsessed over this. For all he knew, he was probably just a random target. He should count himself lucky that someone else hadn’t been targeted. At least he could defend himself if the situation got hairy.
His train pulled up and he stepped on, easily finding an empty seat due to the late hour. He relaxed into it, clutching his backpack to his chest. The tension drained out of him as he rode, feeling better now there was distance between him and the potential attacker.
Peter focused on the vibrations beneath his feet, letting the sensation drag him out of his thoughts. By the time the train reached his stop, the incident was almost completely pushed from his mind. He yawned his way home, motivated solely by the thought of curling up in his bed.
It was only when he got home and was sorting out his things that he remembered the man from that morning. Peter fiddled with the card Wade gave him, smiling gently at the memory of the large man. He felt a little awkward about calling Wade out of the blue, so he hoped a text would suffice.
Peter flopped onto his couch, which was probably older than he was, and pulled out his phone. He twiddled his thumbs and pondered his first message.
Start simple,
he thought. He typed out a quick “Hey, this is Peter with the cinnamon mocha.” He hit
send
before he put too much unnecessary thought into it and flung his phone to the other side of the couch.
Out of sight, out of mind, right?
Out of mind didn’t last too long, as his phone buzzed barely thirty seconds later. Peter not-so-calmly scrambled for his phone, digging his hand into the cushions it fell between. His phone buzzed three more times in quick succession before he could get a grasp of it properly.
Wade: petey!
Wade: how cud i evr forget tht face 😍😍😍
Wade: i s2g u shine like an angle
Wade: i cud b ur angle or ur devil 😈
Peter huffed out a laugh and settled into the worn cushions.
Peter: I think I’d prefer an angel
Peter: But I’m not fussy :-)
Wade: omigosh! 😲
Wade: aint u just the most precious lil puddin
Wade: lucky ole me cos i sure as heck aint no angel sweetcheeks
Peter’s stomach rumbled, and he moved to the kitchen to make a light dinner. He kept texting Wade as he boiled the kettle for instant ramen.
Peter: I’m sure you’re not that bad!
Wade: ahh the sweet naivety of youth 😭
Wade: stop b4 u make me tear up!!!
Peter giggled through his noodles. They continued texting through his measly dinner, right up until he absolutely
had
to get to bed. The incident from earlier in the day entirely forgotten, Peter drifted pleasantly into a dreamless sleep.
Unfortunately, pleasant wasn’t something that lasted for Peter Parker. His alarm blared at six on the dot, and he groaned into his pillow. Even a good night's sleep never felt like enough.
He rolled over, blinding waving his hand out to try and grab for his phone. Tapping his alarm off, he checked his notifications. One new email, an app alert and three new messages from Wade. Not bad.
Peter put off further investigation, deciding instead to get ready for the day first. He tumbled head first out of bed, landing heavily with a grunt. The shock of the fall woke Peter up enough to haul his body up and into the bathroom, where he freshened himself up. He brushed his teeth and washed his face in the sink, picked up a comb and attacked his hair before resigning himself to the lost cause that was his birds nest hairstyle.
Peter sighed at his reflection, prodded his cheeks and pulled at the bags under his eyes. He looked more tired than usual today, having stayed up later than usual to message Wade. Peter shrugged at himself and left the bathroom. He dug through his clothes, giving a couple of items a cursory whiff before throwing them into his laundry basket in the corner of the room. He settled on a simple black t-shirt and jeans, thankfully stain free, and he pulled a fresh binder, socks and boxers out of his small set of drawers. Peter dressed quickly and grabbed a hoodie, his phone and his backpack, stuffed his feet into his beat up sneakers and left his dingy apartment.
Checking his phone, Peter sighed in relief. It was 6:30am, and he wasn’t running late, for once. He leapt agilely down the staircase in his building, out the door and into the street. It was a short walk to the subway station nearby, and typical Parker Luck had him getting to the platform just as his train pulled away. He sighed and hung his head. At least it was only five minutes until the next one. While he waited he pulled out his phone, remembering his notifications at last.
Wade: gd mornin peteypie!! 😍
Wade: hope u slept as well as i did
Wade: dreams nd all 2 match 😉
Peter’s face turned bright red as he read the last one, and he took a quick glance around the platform. Nope, no one around to see him spontaneously combust. That at least was a relief. He took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly.
Peter: I slept well, thank you!
Peter: I just missed the train to work, but thankfully there’s another one coming soon :-)
His phone buzzed almost instantly after he his send.
Wade: o no!!!
Wade: i can picture it now, poor lil petey stranded on the platform all alone 😭😭
Peter: I’m not a damsel in distress! One missed train won’t make me late for my shift.
Peter: At least, I hope it doesn’t ;-)
The train pulled into the station then, and Peter put his phone back into his pocket. He stepped onto the train and snagged a seat next to an elderly woman. The trip wasn’t long, so Peter focused on his senses. He started by blocking out as much of the background noise from the train as he could, listening to his own breathing and then pushing his senses outward. Peter focused on a group of friends at the other end of the train car, listening to them talk about their weekend plans before changing focus again, listening to the heartbeat of the woman he was sat next to. He let the steady beat take him until his stop, where he let the sounds of the world flood back to him.
Peter left the station and started the short trek to work. It was still early, though there were already plenty of people out and about on the street. Peter walked among them, at ease until he felt the familiar prickling on the back of his neck.
He was being watched.
Again.
Hot flashes of fear and anxiety flooded Peter, and his grip on his backpack had the seams creaking under pressure. Sweat moistened his forehead, and he forced himself to walk naturally on. Without glancing around him, he cut suddenly into the next alleyway and booked it behind a dumpster. Peter squatted and held his breath as the hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention. Buzzing in the back of his skull warned him of the nearing proximity of whoever was following him. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he tensed, hyper aware of everything happening around him.
The presence in the alley stopped nearby. Peter listened closely to the rustle of clothing as whoever it was looked for him, counted the footsteps as they wandered ever closer.
Peter gathered his courage and prepared to strike. One step. Two steps. Three steps closer, and he struck.
He pushed off his legs in one powerful motion, hitting the other hard, forcing them back against the far wall with a harsh grunt. Peter slammed his forearm against the broad chest in front of him with a low snarl. He looked up and stopped. Blinked, as if what he saw would disappear.
“
Wade?!
”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“
Wade?!
” Peter backed off suddenly, and Wade crumpled to the floor like a broken accordion.
“Jeezus baby, you really pack a punch, don’tcha?” He wheezed out.
“Why the
fuck
are you following me?!” Peter yelled at him. He’d taken a few steps back now, restless with fuming rage.
Wade groaned and picked himself up off the floor, keeping his distance to avoid pissing Peter off further. “I wasn’t! I swear, I’d never do that!”
Peter faltered slightly, but narrowed his eyes at Wade. “Then what are you doing in a dingy alleyway at half six in the morning.”
“I saw a cat!” he blurted, gesturing wildly. “It ducked into the alley before I had a chance to pet it!”
Peter looked around, obviously suspicious. “I don’t see any cats.” Wade gave him an exaggerated eye-roll.
“Of course you don’t! Wily creatures, cats are. And besides!” He dramatically thrust a finger in Peter’s direction. “What are
you
doing in a dingy alleyway at half six in the morning! This isn’t exactly the nicest area.”
Peter blushed and averted his eyes, looking vaguely sheepish. “I got the feeling that someone was following me, so I was trying to throw them off.” He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, chuckling slightly. “Seems silly to say it out loud now.”
“Oh baby boy… I admire your courage!” Wade spread his arms in a broad gesture. “To be so valiant and self-reliant in this day and age is admirable!” Peter stared at him, nonplussed. “Alright, it was a bit stupid. Why not report something like that to the cops?” Peter raised a single eyebrow. “Point taken.”
A loud, piercing tone suddenly rang out, echoing in the alleyway and startling them both.
“Woops!” Wade fumbled for his phone to silence it. “That’s my cue, duty calls!” He gave a half-salute with his phone before turning and bolting out into the street, yelling “text you later!” and leaving Peter bewildered in his wake.
Peter checked his own phone and swore at the time. He scrambled for his backpack and sprinted off, rushing towards work in an effort to be on time.
Wade watched him go from across the street, and when Peter was out of sight, he turned and walked in the opposite direction. People moved out of his way as he lumbered off, parting like the red sea around him. He let the scenery pass him by as he got sucked into his own head.
In hindsight, Wade could definitely see how stupid he had been acting for the past two days. He had let himself get caught up in the feeling of not being immediately pitied by anyone who laid eyes on his skin. Of flirting with an attractive young man without being snubbed. Of being flirted
with
for a change. He shook his head as he contemplated. He knew the reasoning behind his actions, but it wasn’t an excuse. He had to wake up and do better. His thoughts span around inside his head until he looked up to see where his feet had taken him. Finding himself on the doorstep to Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Girls, he shrugged and shouldered his way inside. The early hour didn’t matter so much here, Weasel was behind the bar as always, wiping the dirty counter with a dirtier rag.
“We’re closed,” Weasel said without looking up.
“Aw, even for little ol’ me?”
Weasel finally looked up, staring Wade down flatly. “Especially for you.” Wade pouted, making the bartender let out a quiet sound of disgust.
“Put that away, it’s too early for this shit.” He sighed and dropped the rag underneath the bar. “What do you want?”
Wade’s face split in a wide grin. “Gimme a job.”
“Seriously? No please? Your manners have really been slipping lately.”
Wade rolled his eyes. “Like that’s ever mattered to you.”
“Sure, but I didn’t expect to be haunted at ass-o-clock in the fucking morning by Krueger’s ghost. Didn’t you finish a job like, yesterday? You’re not the most proactive merc in this dump.”
“What can I say? Life gets in the way, killing people gets boring, I’ve got better things to do, yadda yadda yadda…” He trailed off and looked around, grabbing a half empty mug from the other end of the bar and chugging it, pointedly ignoring Weasel’s grimace.
“Okay, first off? Literally none of that is true. You have no life, you love killing people and,
oh yeah
, you have no life. Secondly, if any of that
were
true, I’m pretty sure you’d be off trying to find some new exciting way to kill yourself. And then telling me about it. In horrible detail. So unless I’ve missed some voicemails from you, I think you just need to pass the time.”
Wade slammed down the now empty beer glass. “Fine! You got me! My plans for the day fell through and now I’m bored.” He directed his best attempt at puppy eyes at Weasel. “Please give me something interesting,” he whined.
“Only if you promise to never look at me like that ever again.”
Wade brightened, looking like an actual puppy that was just given a brand new toy. “Deal!” Weasel shook his head as Wade practically wagged his tail at him and shuffled off to the register.
“How does an ongoing investigation into the daily life of one of the richest CEOs in the city sound? Should keep you busy and off my back for a while.”
“Ooh, juicy! Which one is it? Stark?! Oh please say it’s Stark, I’ve had a bone to pick with him since Homecoming.”
“No- what? It’s not Stark, did he crash your highschool or some shit?” Wade opened his mouth to answer but Weasel continued, “Nevermind, I don’t care enough. It’s not him, it’s Norman Osborn. One of his competitors has noticed some shady shit with him and some sort of bio-genetic research and he wants the scoop, trying to undercut him or something. Think you can control your ‘killer instincts’ long enough to get some good info?”
“Who’s ordered the job?”
“Some crackpot scientist, must’ve used an alias. Otherwise he’s real unfortunate to have a name like ‘Doctor Octopus’.” He held the gold card between his fingers, extended towards Wade. “You in?”
Wade took the card and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “Yeah, sounds good enough to keep me busy.” He stood and gave a two-finger salute. “Though this doc’ll probably end up on the news without my help, just give it a month.” He twirled and sauntered out of the bar, a slight spring in his step. “See ya around!”
Weasel picked his rag back up and resumed wiping as the bar door slammed shut.
“And stay out.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Getting to work was merely the first hurdle Peter had to face in the day. Despite working a minimum wage service job, he typically enjoyed the day to day of the café. When it was slow he could study, and busy periods never required his full focus.
Unfortunately, it was still minimum wage in food service. Days that felt endless, complete with cranky customers, bad-tempered managers and not enough staff. The main bonus of the opening shift was being able to leave early, but the 5am start often wasn’t worth it.
Peter's unexpected run-in from the morning didn't exactly help. His mind strayed from orders, thinking of the broad and delightfully strange man that he had just happened to ambush. Anxiety twisted his stomach a split second before his senses pinched, and he snapped back just in time to shut off the steam wand on the industrial coffee maker. Tapping his hand against the jug, it was just hot enough to sting his sensitive fingertips, but the perfect temperature for the average on-the-go New Yorker. He poured the milk into the premade espresso with little flourish and handed it off to the suited customer with an absent smile.
With no other orders, Peter’s mind drifted back to Wade and he let his body go through the automatic process of cleaning the coffee machine. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed over the events from the morning, but his relief was far stronger. Wade had hopefully been too surprised and distracted to notice the frankly ridiculous amount of strength he had exerted in his attack, certainly too much for someone his size. It would’ve been so much worse if he’d had to explain that alongside everything else.
The clamor of the café faded into the background as Peter reminisced on his circumstances. His life had been changed forever by a fated spider bite, almost thrown off the rails completely when he used his new-found powers to fight in back-alley boxing rings to earn quick cash. The only thing that brought him back from the brink of self-destruction was the guidance and acceptance of his Uncle Ben. Coming to terms with his identity and abilities became far less daunting with the support of him and Aunt May. With their help, and with a legitimate weekend job at a deli near his childhood home in Forest Hills, he earned enough money to help pay for his name change and hormone treatment. Now, six years later, he was passing in everyday life, attending Empire State University and working towards his dream.
Sure, times were tough sometimes, between paying bills and student loan debt, but he wouldn’t have it any other way at this point. Living freely was worth it.
With no customers requiring his immediate attention, and a half-asleep teenager manning the register, Peter ducked into the stock room. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and hesitated. Was it weird to text Wade again after what had happened? Should he give the other man some space? He hummed and fiddled with his phone, unsure about what he wanted to do.
He was so out of it as he fretted that he jumped when his phone buzzed in his hands, only just managing to hold on his sticky fingertips. The screen lit up with a message from Wade and his heart thumped in his chest.
Wade: hey baby boy! cud hear u worrying from here so just wanted 2 tell u to chillax b4 u give urself a heart attak
Wade: dont worry abt this mornin, no hard feelins here
Wade: maybe 1 at how strong u r
Wade: but we can come back 2 tht l8r
Peter laughed into his palm as the stream of messages flooded his phone, relief cooling his heated cheeks.
Peter: How could you tell? I thought I was being very subtle :-P
Peter: I still feel bad though, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?
He let out a harsh breath, nerves wracking his system. It was a bold move for him, one he wasn’t used to taking, but something about Wade made him want to take that leap into the unknown.
Not even a minute had passed when his phone buzzed again.
Wade: id nvr say no 2 a coffee w a cutie 😍☕
Wade: evn if it wasnt an apology for kicking the shit outta me 😉
Peter laughed aloud.
Peter: That sounds good to me! As long as we don’t go to the coffee shop I work at.
Peter: I’ve been embarrassed enough, thank you very much.
Wade: wherevz is cool 👍
Wade: also wenevz
Wade: just gimme the evz wen uv found em
Wade: will b on standby til then ✌
With a sigh of relief, Peter finally relaxed. Wade’s casual way of texting did wonders for alleviating his anxiety, giving him the breathing room to plan things at his own pace. After the wave of calm had washed over him, a spark of happiness burst in his chest. He had a date! And with an absolute beefcake at that. Peter’s heart pounded with excitement at the thought, and he couldn’t help but give a little victory wiggle. He took another deep breath and checked the time on his phone. The text conversation had only taken a few minutes, but it felt like an hour had passed with the way he had lost himself in it.
He pocketed his phone and wiped his palms on his jeans, composing himself to get back to work. There wasn’t too long left of his shift, and if he got home in good time he could tackle his latest assignment for class.
Feeling optimistic, Peter left the stockroom. He scanned the floor of the café, grabbing a tray and setting to work clearing away dirty cups and plates. The remainder of his shift was spent cleaning and organizing the shop, and he was thankful for the lack of customers post lunch rush.
The spring in his step carried him to the end of his shift, and he left on time with a smile upon his face. With a cool breeze refreshing him, Peter felt like this luck was finally starting to change.