Chapter Text
The aroma of coffee filled the air and the soft sounds of people mulling about sung in his ears. Patrons talked about mundane aspects of life alongside the cups of hot drinks they held. Abstract pictures hung on every wall, accompanied by a widespread window that stretched across the entire front of the shop. The sun shone brightly through, providing most of the light for the little cafe.
Outside, cars passed by, and people ambled along the street, chatting on devices, walking alongside friends and animals.
Sometimes, Avocato loathed his job, but other days such as this, he appreciated the small details of everything, like the sweet aroma of pastries lingering under the scent of coffee. It all felt so normal, like what life was supposed to be.
Despite being a Ventrexian on a planet filled with humans, it was not so bad. Well, cat jokes from every tenth customer aside.
“Hey, Avocato, you’ve got that latte order ready?”
With ease, Avocato formed the frothy substance atop the hot drink into a leaf before he handed it over to his coworker of caramel skin and bright eyes of amber. “As requested. Extra sugar, french vanilla,” he stated matter-of-factly and she rolled her eyes.
“Do you always have to be so professional? This is a coffee shop, not the military,” she teased.
“Coffee is a serious matter, it shouldn’t be taken lightly when the life of someone’s morning is in our hands.” Avocato couldn’t help the smirk that quirked upwards, and she laughed.
“Right, keep up the good work then. I bet the boss’ll give you another raise soon. Hopefully it’d help you and Jr. out.” He could sense the underlying concern underneath the bright smile.
“My son and I have been doing fine lately,” he assured her.
She had been the one to witness him a couple years ago, desperate to find a job, any job that would help him stabilize his life and provide for his son. With the universe against him, everything had felt hopeless. He had been on the run from his past, from the Lord Commander, escaped to a place no one thought to truly look or care, on an overpopulated planet in the middle of a huge city where no one would recognize him.
He had been worried that his endeavours were fruitless, unable to find a true place to belong on earth, until he had found a place here. His now-coworker recommended him to the manager, and he was hired the next day.
Sure, it was just a coffee shop, but it was normal, mundane, nothing out of the ordinary. It was a quiet place to work, aside from the occasional customer that criticized every small detail and speck of dust. It was far from anything he had to worry about in his previous life.
The perks of working here were too tempting to search anywhere else anyways. Avocato could have ten Monday-sized cups of coffee for free with the effects of jittery fingers and mussed fur, and no one could say shit so long as he was working.
Was that single perk worth it? Of course it was, this was coffee he was thinking about here.
His coworker looked at him as though she had a hard time believing him, because Avocato realized he had gone silent for a suspicious amount of time. “Really, Little Cato and I are fine,” he assured her again. “We have a home and food, it’s all we need. We’re happy now.” He leaned against the counter after she handed the latte away to a customer, all patrons now satisfied and sitting at their respective tables. “But,” he stretched out the syllable, “I wouldn’t complain if I got more money,” he added with a smirk.
She winked at him with pointed fingers, “there it is! I knew there was a catch with you.”
The door swung open then, bell jingling to signify the entrance of a new customer.
Blond hair, with a bit of an undercut, messy at the top, he looked like any other flesh bag of a human that entered the building. Yet, the way he walked was with a confidence he had never seen before. A swagger that would make most think ‘why the hell is he walking like that’ Avocato’s thoughts included.
The man waved to another customer, and received a glare. Avocato’s ears picked up on him muttering a “sheesh, talk about anti-social.”
He turned to face him as he approached the front counter, and immediately, bright blue eyes gave way to curiosity, staring up to his ears and peering over to the tail that flicked with annoyance behind the counter. Avocato’s heart sank, knowing exactly what he was going to say.
“Wow, I’ve been gone so long the cats of earth have evolved! You guys aren’t planning on some kind of uprising, right? I mean, working at a coffee shop, yikes. I just want to let you know, I’m on your side when the revolution happens, buddy.”
Yes, a customer ten, his favorite.
“I’m not a cat,” he said behind the bared teeth of a smile, cutting him off with a politeness he was surprised he had, reminding himself to be kind to customers despite the comments of his appearance. “I’m Ventrexian. How may I help you?”
“Oh, yeah!” His eyes flicked up to the menu, an audible hum that extended for far longer than necessary escaped him, hand raised to rub the non-existent beard on his chin.
A line began to form behind him.
Avocato was on the verge of a hiss or groan of frustration.
“So,” he started with a whistle, looking back down to him, ignoring the menu as he leaned over the counter, elbows resting on the surface and chin in his hands, “how’s your day going?”
Avocato blinked, taken off guard. “What?”
“You know, I figured people don’t ask you much, but we can talk about it. Any crushes, break-ups, winning the lottery? Maybe you saw something cool on the way to work, tell me about it.”
“It was going good. And your’s?”
“Good, that’s good! You’re just not gonna say anything else, okay.” Thankfully, he pressed no further. “My day’s great! Amazing, actually! I just got out of prison last week! Well, it was sort of like prison, more like a punishment for a crime I did, but also definitely a prison.”
“Prison?!” Avocato choked out in disbelief. Who shares that they’ve just gotten out of prison to a complete stranger? This guy is crazy.
“Oh yeah, it’s a long story.” He chuckled as though they were friends sharing an inside joke. “I can tell you all about it. You see, there’s this woman I’m madly in love with, who totally has the hots for me-"
Oh fuck no, he did not want to hear anything this 'nice guy' was about to say.
His coworker offered him a sympathetic smile and opened a second till to serve the flood of customers as the man continued to talk. Why was he talking to him? What did Avocato do to deserve this?
He did not need an answer for that.
He was still talking, and he had no idea how to respond because he had gotten lost in the really long story that he was oversharing, and now he felt guilty and annoyed.
“I’ve met up with her again recently, turns out she forgot who I was, but then she remembered, and now she’s still really mad about it- the whole blowing up the ships thing, and that restaurant. God, I feel so guilty about the restaurant. Family owned, too. But anyways, her name’s Quinn, she’s beautiful, great, strong personality. I get the honors of hanging out with her this Wednesday, not as a boyfriend though, not yet.”
Sweet blissful silence filled the air between them, save for the sounds of coffee machines and murmuring patrons.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” He spoke again.
You talk too much , he wanted to say irritably. “Sir, I’m just trying to do my job,” he states with all the stoicness he could muster.
The human leaned over the counter further, getting closer to him. “I want to unlock your past, tell me about it.”
“No.”
“Did you fail college?”
“No.”
“Oh, then why are you here?”
“No, I mean, no, I’m not telling you anything.”
“So you did fail, I’m so sorry, dude.”
“I can still pass college and enjoy working here,” he said defensively. Not that he loved his job or anything, he was just here for the money and coffee. He would prefer to be at home, especially right now.
“True.” The man hit his chest with a fist and offered a peace sign. “You have all my respect.”
"Right," he cocked a brow at him, "are you going to get anything?"
Blissfully unaware, or outright ignoring him, he got comfortable on the counter. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” his eyes drifted downwards to the nametag on his chest, “Avocato!” He laughed, “oh my god, I love that! Do you even know the kind of pun your name has? It’s like a cat, and an avocado, that’s amazing! Get it?”
“No, what’s an avocado, is that a human name?”
“No, it’s like a fruit- or is it a vegetable? It’s green and it tastes bad.”
“Do you even know what an avocado is?” He shot back, amusement rising in him at the teasing remark he could make.
He laughed again. “Oh, oh that’s good! My name’s Gary, by the way, feel free to make fun of my name too, it’s only fair.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, go right ahead, I promise I won’t tell the manager.” He held out a pinky with one hand. “Go on, shake it, it’ll be a promise sealed by the pact of the pinky finger.”
Now this, this elicited a positive emotion, made him think that maybe this guy was not the worst possible customer he has had before. “Fine,” Avocato smirked, bringing forth his own pinky to seal the deal. Whatever Avocato had done, Gary’s smile broadened tenfold, as though he had unwittingly fallen into his plan.
“Gary sounds like a name you’d give a fish or a snail. Only a human fleshbag could have a name as lame as that.”
“Oof, low blow, buddy. Low blow.”
This exchange changed nothing though. Gary still ruined his perfectly content day, and worst of all, Avocato could not stop thinking about him. Even after he finally ordered a basic black coffee (why just a black coffee?), even after he left, even for the rest of his shift, and even as he drove home.
He climbed up the four sets of stairs to his apartment. It was an ancient building, one he could afford on the tight budget he lived on as a single father. No, no lavish elevators, or moving platforms, or teleporters like in modern buildings. Just some lame stairs.
Four flights after work. Every day.
Years ago, he had his own house, he had people he could order around whenever he wanted. If he so much as wanted someone to lick his shoes clean, it would happen. It was always spotless, and his son could run around freely in the home and eat the rarest foods the universe had to offer.
As it turned out, he never owned the damn place to begin with anyway.
He preferred this, he assured himself, a quaint apartment in an overpopulated city. At least he owned it- well- rented it.
He unlocked the door to his place, stepped inside, and gently shut it behind him, letting out a heavy sigh as he shook the weight of the day off his shoulders. He stared down at the handle of the door, the sounds of music and mashing buttons in a rhythmic tune filling his ears.
A smile graced his lips, turning towards the living room. He saw the faint flashing of lights against the wall next to the couch, and what was left of the sunlight filtering through the window near the television, purple and grey as the clouded sky transitioned to night.
In the end, coming home to his son made everything worth it. No matter what, he did not regret the decision he made three years ago.
He flicked on the light. “What’d I tell you about playing games in the dark?”
A soft hiss. The music faded, and the mashing of buttons ceased.
“Hey, dad!” Little Cato jumped up from his seat and onto the back of the couch, pretending as though he had not just been caught doing something he was not supposed to do. He was precariously balanced as he stood. “There’s some light coming from the window. I’m just saving on energy.” Little Cato knew that Avocato knew that what he just said was a total excuse, because he believed that video games looked cooler in the dark. “How’d work go today?”
“Don’t stand on the couch like that, you’ll fall,” he warned, ambling into the kitchen. The couch and the tile flooring was the only thing separating the two rooms from each other. When he got a stick of the tongue in response, he gently pushed his son on the chest as he passed him. He fell back onto the couch from the slight change of weight, flopping down on his back. “It went fine,” he continued and approached the sink, looking to the pile of dishes stacked inside. “How was school?”
Little Cato’s head poked up from the couch again, watching him from the living room.
“It doesn’t sound fine. That’s your annoyed voice.” Lil Cato stated, getting up on the back of the couch again. This time he sat on it, legs dangling off.
“I am not annoyed,” he said, annoyed.
“No, see, you’re doing it. It’s that weird voice. And your tail does that thing when you’re totally annoyed and lying about it.” Avocato became acutely aware of his tail twitching back and forth. How long had he been doing that for?
“Son, my boy, my reason of life, will you be quiet? I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Making you dinner.” He reached for pots and pans then, grabbing utensils from various drawers. Avocato was lucky that he usually got off a couple hours after Little Cato had school, it was just in time for him to make supper.
Little Cato grew quiet at the response and continued his game, and finally, Avocato answered. “It was just a customer that messed up my day, no biggy, really,” he shrugged for emphasis, despite the continued twitching of his tail.
Entirely unconvinced, Little Cato gave him that look, the untrustworthy Cato look, and settled back down into the couch.
Avocato finished making dinner. They sat down and ate at the table, Little Cato taking the opportunity to prattle on about the day he had at school, Avocato eagerly asking about the current gossip and rumours spreading around the place like wildfire, because some of those stories were absolutely wild.
After dinner, they sat down in the living room and turned on a movie. He was more engrossed in it than Little Cato, who frequently checked his device for texts from Ash and Fox.
After the movie, they moved on to play a video game for awhile before he noticed the time and told his son to go to bed.
Unfortunately for Avocato, he sometimes had trouble sleeping. He would wake up on the odd occasion, like tonight, settle down on the couch in the living room, and just sit.
He would lament.
Avocato tried to forget his past instead of thinking about it, of the mistakes he made, but sometimes the luxury of forgetting never came easy.
Tonight was the first night his son caught him. Two years, a good record. He came out of his room, yawning loudly, walking to the fridge to grab a can of pop. Avocato said nothing, but he moved his head to watch him.
Little Cato nearly dropped the can when he noticed him, tail fluffing up in surprise, no doubt the light of the refrigerator illuminated his face over the couch.
He must look scary as hell.
“Oh, hey, dad, uh-”
“Nice try, put it back.”
Little Cato put the can of pop back, grumbling to himself. He approached the couch after, moving to stand in front of it. “If I’m supposed to be in bed, then you’re supposed to be in bed. Why are we both out here?”
“You should go back to bed,” he answered simply, softly, masking his troubled mind behind a small smile.
He was not buying it.
He liked to think that he could read his son like an open book when it came to emotions. Unfortunately for him, it went both ways.
“You’re thinking about- everything, right?” Little Cato gestured with a frown. It was a subje ct they both shared, both equally suffered through. His son was more willing to talk about it than him, but he never wanted to tell him about everything, to bring up what needed to be put behind them.
He just wished Little Cato could forget about their past and move on. Be a normal kid. He deserved to be happy.
“Dad?” His voice was soft, and Avocato met his gaze. He sat down next to him. “You know, you can always talk to me about it. I know some of the stuff you did, I can handle it. I’m not a kid anymore.”
Avocato levelled him with a look. “Yes, you are.” He reached out then and ruffled his bed-head hair. He pouted in protest. “Besides, you’re not my therapist, you’re my son.”
He could tell that Little Cato wanted to argue, but his form slouched against the couch in defeat, too tired to put up a fight, and deflected the conversation somewhere else. “So, that customer?”
To be fair with his son, he decided to share his story of the legendary Gary. “This guy came in, called me a cat, held up the line for an hour, and would not stop talking. I already know more about him than anyone else I’ve ever met on earth before. It’s a miracle he didn’t get kicked out. He even insulted my name,” Avocato shook his head. “What an asshole.”
“Wow,” Little Cato blinked, surprised that a customer like that could even exist.
“At least he let me insult his name. Gary, what a weird name.”
“Really?” He bore the same expression of surprise Avocato felt earlier that day at the open opportunity of an insult. “Hey,” Little Cato shrugged after, “it’s not like he’s a regular. You probably won’t ever have to deal with the guy again. I mean, he probably just stopped by for the day to get coffee, be weird, and move on with his life, right?”
“Right.”