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It was late at Crossroads, the sky beginning to darken, most inphernals getting off the streets and going home as fast as they could. Among them walked a rather bulky, dark figure, his purple horns glowing with a dimness most likely caused by slight fatigue. The steps he took looked a bit sluggish, and most tried to get out of his way as he continued his walk to SFOTH knows where. Those a bit bolder who didn’t turn to avoid the warden like the plague and kept only a few Swords distance away from him could’ve sworn they even heard something akin to low growling coming from him.
Ban hammer thought about using his wings instead of his legs, but turned the idea down rather quickly as he continued his patrol around the area. Momma always said not to use them in crowded places. Too many strangers, too many eyes.
And so he continued trudging through the slowly emptying streets. Broker gave him a real run for his money today although he’d never admit that out loud. Or did the criminal even do that? No no, he was just way too weary, the bastard was just lucky.
…It must’ve also been his hunger speaking, he snorted a tad bit annoyed, as his stomach started declaring its need for food rather loudly. He turned to eye a few passerbys, who quickly picked up their speed and fled the scene before getting into trouble with him. Damn right!
He lazily scanned the surrounding buildings, not really expecting anything to be open at this late, but was surprised to see a café’s door somewhat ajar, the big blue sign reading “OPEN” in bold letters. The logo on the top also had someone’s face on it, but the self-proclaimed tyrant was too far and it was already too dark to make it out clearly.
Not giving much of a second thought to his duty he began powerwalking to the entrance with seemingly newly regained strength, when he saw an employee inside, moving towards the entrance as well, most likely to close the place for today. Absolutely not, Ban thought, and sped up his steps without really looking at and acknowledging the poor guy. He managed to make it to the handle just a beat before the other could reach it, and let himself in with a smile so smug as if his Mom just gave him the biggest praise he received in years.
-”Good evening, fellow citizen! I see your café’s still open and perfectly ready to serve great customers such as myself.” he said in a slightly condescending voice as the other huffed, clearly angry, but as he looked down at the smaller figure to examine who was blessed with his prolonged presence, he was caught off-guard by the familiar face.
-”Please, do take a seat and choose your order, sir.” he heard the catboy squeeze out of himself like it caused him physical pain, which, rude, he should be happy he gets to serve Crossroads’ best! But he didn’t find it in himself to snap at the guy as he silently searched for a chair that would no doubt be able to keep his weight up, sat down and started going through the menu.
He always seen and knew Slingshot as a bubbly and somewhat reckless guy, this image that he just got of the ranged phighter didn’t fit him at all! The straight back and the responsible air he had about himself… not to mention he wasn’t jumping around constantly! Not even one, teeny-tiny hop in sight! Was this a clone made by Blackrock? Perhaps an evil twin?
As he wondered, the young man came up to him with a notepad and a pencil in hand.
he sighed loudly, before addressing Ban. -”Since we know each other, can I drop the formalities?”
The warden was taken aback by the question, but grinned as he answered.
.”What? Not knowing your manners around your peers, young man?” Sling chuckled at that, albeit somewhat tired sounding. Ban found it to be nice. The added layer of maturity looked good on him.
-”...Right. So, may I take your order, sir?” Right. He came here because he was hungry. And he totally has read the options. Surely.
.”Uh, 3 croissants.” And because his Momma didn’t raise a nobody, he got out his manners as well. “...Please.”
Upon seeing Sling raise an eyebrow, he felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck. Did the guy not have croissants? Weren’t those an option in all cafes? He hoped Windforce wasn’t watching him right now.
But the other just turned on his heel and walked back to behind the counter to make his order. Hah! Take that, way too long menus nobody even cares about!
—----
When Sling walked back to the booth, he was carrying 4 croissants instead of the 3 Ban asked for. Was there a discount or something?
Soon enough Ban found out that the fourth was, in fact, not meant for him but his companion that sat down in front of him at his table after giving him his order. Without permission, just like that! Ban hammer felt somewhat offended, as the other started unceremoniously munching on his share of food, while eyeing the street outside, most likely zoning out after a short while.
The older found himself observing the now quiet phighter. The obvious weariness in his eyes and body language, the greyish, almost sick looking horns that could be easily mistaken for ears any day, the way messier than normal hair, the way the wrinkles of his clothing looked worse than usual, it shocked him. The inphernal before him felt… wrong, acting like any other average adult. Nobody get him wrong, Ban really hated when he was jumping around him like a damn rabbit or- something, but getting to see him like this felt like he just witnessed a sacred thing (and oh boy, did he have a rather long history of witnessing those!), like he got to know something he wasn’t supposed to. It felt empowering, in a way, because as sure as he was in himself, he also knew that if the guy decided to lock the door right in front of his nose, he could’ve done nothing, but watch.
He only realized he'd been staring when Sling looked back, and eyed his untouched croissants, then raised his head back up to lock eyes with him. Shit, he should say something-
-”Will you actually eat, or are you just trolling me? You’ve been aaaaawfully quiet compared to usual.” as the younger man squinted at him, he cleared his throat, took a bite of one of his croissants, then turned away from the eye contact, a slight blush of embarrassment growing on his cheek.
-”Y’know, you’re way more uh. Bearable, like this.” He said, munching on a new bite. “Just saying.”
-”Don’t speak with your mouth full! Gosh, did your…” Sling seemed to reconsider his options, and swallowed a small bite before speaking again. “That goes for you too, by the way.”
Ban raised a hand to his chestplate in mock hurting. “And now what is THAT supposed to mean?”
Sling chuckled again, this time for a tad bit longer, with an unreadable expression in his eyes. He had nice, deep dark eyes, Ban noted. If he just had to be a fool in - well, pretty much private, since no one else was around - to make Sling do that sound again, then that was a small sacrifice, he thought.
—----
Over the days, they fell into some kind of a rhythm. Ban would show up just before Sling tried to close, and he would sit down in the same booth to order the same thing.
He enjoyed their little banters, the small talk, and the croissants were really good, almost as good as the person making them looked. And that was a thought Ban knew he would take with himself to the grave.