#brightingales

Historical AU + Coffeeshop AU

After the end of the Second World War, James signed the Official Secrets Act, packed up his bags, and moved out of London. When he arrived in Hollyoaks, he rented the nicest flat on the market and set about becoming seemingly entirely idle. He woke late, dawdled around the village until lunch, and then sat reading (in the park if it was fine and at the little cafe/teahouse if it rained) until it was time for dinner at the Hutch.

The handsome lad who manned the cafe register most days was just barely too young to have enlisted before the war ended, a fact he was frequently reminded of by most of his customer neighbors. No amount of protesting that he was eighteen, a legal adult now thank you very much, seemed to have any effect. He was cheerfully friendly to James, who alternated between lasciviousness and churlishness in return. Every day it rained, James took his ration of tea to the beaten down, overstuffed chair by the window where the light was best. Every day, Harry came to collect his empty cup and ask how he was getting on with his book. James mostly groused about being interrupted, but Harry could see the way his eyes would track Harry’s legs as he approached, his lidded gaze traveling up his thighs and torso.

One day as fall progressed, when the weather meant James had been installed in his wingback for hours at a time for nearly two weeks straight, James took it upon himself to bring his teacup back to the counter himself. He took a moment to enjoy Harry replenishing the stock, bending over at the waist and flexing his forearms. When Harry straightened up, he jumped to see James standing there, but dutifully asked if he could help James with anything else.

James’ eyes dropped down and up Harry’s form. “I think perhaps you could, yes.”

Harry’s breath caught, just for an instant, and his gaze darted involuntarily around the empty shop. Still, he found himself leaning forward against the counter, drawn into James’ orbit.

“What can I get you then, sir?” He licked his lips nervously, thrilling when James’ eyes flew straight to them.

“Do you have any coffee beans for sale?”

Harry blinked. “No, sorry, we don’t carry - oh! I mean, I… think we might have some in the back. I’ll just go check.” He headed to the store room, looking back just before he turned the corner to see James coming around the register to follow him, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.