Summary: After meeting Alfred on an online site for omegas and alphas to find a mate, Arthur decides to make a trip to America to find out if Alfred really is the right mate for him, and if Alfred will think Arthur is the right one too. AU: Omegaverse AU, Cowboy AU Warnings: No warnings for this chapter.
Matthew asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow when his brother merely laughed
and waved his protests away.
“Come on Mattie, I already told you! They have literally the best milkshakes at that bar,
can’t get any better!”
Matthew’s expression still read suspicion. He knew Alfred was fond of
sweets and sugary drinks, but to visit that same bar almost every day? “Do you
even have the money for that?”
“Psht, of course I do!” Alfred continued in that boisterous tone. He
tried distinctly to ignore the silent weeping of his rapidly slinking wallet.
But hey, it was worth it! “Okay, be right back!” He waved the other goodbye
before jogging towards the bar in question; one of the coffee and other warm
and cold drinks variant.
A jolly jingle announced his arrival, and the man behind the counter
looked up. Alfred’s heart stopped when he saw those (beautiful) eyes lit up in
recognition, smile growing, almost too blinding to stare at.
“Welcome. How may I help you?” that divine creature began, ever courteous.
Alfred took a moment longer to stare, then quickly darted forward. “Uh
yeah, I’ll have the-“
“Chocolate milkshake with extra whipped cream?” the barista known as
Ivan filled in for him, smile brightening when Alfred nodded sheepishly. And
the reason that Alfred knew of Ivan’s
name, was because of a particular note he had left him several days ago.
He could still distinctly remember the first day he had visited the
establishment. Wandering in like a lost sheep, Ivan had been his saviour with
cakes and warm cocoa. And a note, that read in a fine curly handwriting, To the man who reminds me of the sun.
Naturally, Alfred had returned the day after. This time, the note read To the boy who managed to lose his way and
end up in the same bar twice.
He came again. And again. Figured out the other’s schedule. Of course
got his name, somewhere along the way. And still, there was something cautious
about his visits, as if flirting would be overstepping boundaries, asking for
the other’s number like writing his own death sentence. After all, he was just
a customer. Maybe Ivan was that nice to everyone who came here.
And yet, as the bright-eyed man handed him his milkshake, he swore he
could feel their fingers brush just a little longer than necessary.