It was quiet when Mr Cute yet Slightly Scary Smile came in next. Just after the big lunch rush, but a couple more hours to go until the corporate drones stumbled in for their next injection of caffeinated nectar. Casper was leant over the counter doodling ghosts and graveyards when the bell rang.

Just like always, Cain's eyes found Casper the second he stepped inside, a bright grin splashing across his face, and as their eyes met, a little fizz of warmth lifted in Casper's chest. He pressed his knuckles to his mouth, willing back the way the corners twitched into a smile. Did his best to keep his face all smooth and innocent-eyes like he hadn't been wanking off to the memory of that devil's smile for the whole weekend.

Not Casper sullying all that sweetness in sweat and lonely grunting and tangled sheets. Nope. Not at all.

Blessed be the change in the usual routine that spared Casper having to face Cain with that fresh in his mind – hot under the collar and the image just rooting deeper as Cain swanned toward the deserted till, sunshine smile on his face. Instead, Cain cast Casper a wink that had his heart jolting and turned back to the open doorway, one arm holding the glass door wide and the other gesturing an old man inside.

Rich prick. Rheumy eyes that wielded razorblades in the place of pupils and a real nice suit. Probably the only type of person who could show up and vaguely rival Cain in Of General Interest status. Them sorts never usually came in the shop – too damn good for places like this and every bit of the way he looked around the place confirmed it.

Once he'd sent Corporate Overlord to a table by the window, Cain's eyes found Casper. A fresh grin blossomed, and fuck if that didn't make his heart sing. Cain held his eyes all the way up to the counter and Casper's insides weren't much thicker than if we were a sack of week-old coffee and bones by the time Cain got there.

Warmer than week-old coffee though. Way, way warmer.

Nonchalant, Casper planted his elbows on the counter and cradled his chin, did his best to keep this smile toeing the line between 'nice face you've got there' and 'I'm only smiling because they pay me to'. Shame that something about the way Cain shook his head as he leant his hip against the counter said he saw right through it.

"Quiet afternoon?"

Casper tilted his head, saccharine falsity deepening the smile. Something hot and tingly swirled around his stomach, tickling the bottom of his lungs. "Don't small talk me."

Snorting, Cain pulled his wallet out of his pocket and thumbed through the notes. Big wad of them, actually, all neatly cradled in walnut leather. Enough to make a wage-slave cry. "And here I thought that was part of the job description."

That should probably have Casper gnashing his teeth, but the cheeky edge to Cain's smile ruined any hope and dreams of that. He teased his tongue between his good pair of canines, a sharp sting to take the edge off this stupid grin twitching at his lips. Kinda felt less and less like store-bought fakeness every second.

At least Mr Cute As All Hell Smile wasn't holding grudges about the worst meet-cute ever. In fact, he was threatening Finance Bros and beaming sunshine out his goddamn smile. Bless the coffee gods for that little bestowal of luck on their grovelling servant's head.

"Latte then?"

Cain tugged two crisp green notes from his wallet, the whisper of rich filth lost amongst the smooth coffeeshop jazz. A moment ago, there'd been clattering and running water behind him too while Jess cleaned up and restocked in the lull, but now it was all suspiciously quiet.

"Please"—Cain held the notes out between two long fingers—"and a flat white that I strongly recommend is made perfectly, because unless he bothers you about it, I'm certainly not getting involved."

"Mhm." Casper plucked the notes from Cain's fingers as he tapped the order into the till. Was that Casper's dear old yuppie crush saying he'd stand up for him if Corporate Overlord got snappy? Casper forced the teeth out of his grin. "You want that in, then?"

"Ah—yes, if that's alright with you."

The drawer sprung open in the empty silence while they stared at each other, Casper with a raised eyebrow and Cain with a growing grimace.

"It doesn't matter at all what you want," Cain said, "does it? Yes, I want them in, please."

This time Casper couldn't keep the fully-fledged grin off his face, and he didn't even try. Let it do what it wanted if it was so fucking desperate, black pits where his teeth should be and all. Piano notes danced in the background as Casper ducked his head, poking about in the till. Kinda stupid, this big old fuzzy warmth, but ... at least it was a new feeling that someone actually seemed to be trying to put it there.

That's what it was, right? Cain leaned in close enough while he ordered that the stir of the air carried snatches of some sweet, light scent off him, a breath of freshness above the earthy aroma of the coffee. Casper usually sprawled right over the counter if he was flirting because he was a short ass and he could get away with it, but this was the same thing, right? Kinda like Cain was interested.

Mr Cutest Damn Smile Casper Had Ever Seen, actually interested in the ghoul fucking barista that sneered across the counter with a ruined face and a roiling crackpot of issues three miles deep.

Casper picked about in the change drawer, everything he owed Cain already in his hand. "It's alright with me." The pennies chinked off each other as Casper pushed his finger through the little drawer. "If it makes a difference."

A soft laugh came from above Casper, and in his low cast frame of vision, Cain spread his hand on the counter. Maybe it was nothing but wishful thinking and wank-dreams, but seemed like the lightest stir of breath tickled his hair. When he spoke, Cain's voice was like feathers brushing against Casper's insides.

"It does." Shit, he was right there. "I'm glad we're on better terms."

The bell rung. Casper started upright, eyes flying up to where Cain had his head tipped back a little, fingers pushing through his glossy hair. The movement bared his throat and all the cords and contours through it, shaded hollows and the pale skin taut beneath his chin.

That'd taste nice. Casper probably tasted of coffee and cigarettes and salt, but he was certain Cain's throat would taste like bliss beneath his tongue.

Jesus fuck, what'd gotten into him now?

Questions. Distractions. Or just hand Cain his goddamn money and wish him a nice day and that his coffee was at least half decent and didn't ruin his afternoon. That sorta thing. End the conversation.

But ... Cain's Corporate Company wasn't looking. He'd sat with his back to them and had a sleek looking laptop perched on his knees.

Casper closed the till drawer and leant in a little closer to Cain, nodding to the trio. "What's all that about then?"

Slow, dozy blinks guided Cain's eyes back down to Casper.

"Oh, that?" A sliver of white teeth broke Cain's smile, and this one was unlike any of the others Casper had seen yet. It came with a cocky angle to the way he stood, and his elbow propped up on the glass food cabinet to Casper's right. Devious. That's the name Casper would put to it – a glint in his eye that had Casper's heart skipping with possibilities. "Business meeting."

"Important?"

"Oh, extremely."

The dry humour in Cain's voice drew a small huff of laughter from Casper. He crossed his arms atop the food cabinet, resting his chin on them. The life in Cain's eyes this close kind of took his breath away. "Seems like he'd be more at home on one of them all-glass boardrooms."

Cain raised an eyebrow. "All glass?"

"Y'know, like glass floor, glass roof, glass table. Then some mahogany on the walls or something."

"Oh, I'm entirely sure he would, Casper, but if anyone wants to negotiate with me"—Cain flicked his hand out, an elegant poise of his fingers indicating the coffeeshop and its kitschy furniture—"they settle for coffee."

The sunlight lit the edges of Cain's hair like some angel spun light casting him into splendid relief at the centre of Casper's world. And it was just like that. The aroma of coffee twined with that pine forest scent, and everything behind him – the tables, the stray customers, the world outside – it was nothing but a swirl of sunlight and oak and cherry red velvet.

Laughter pulled out the corners of Cain's grin, and he seemed to struggle to get a hold on it. Like he wanted Casper to see this suave businessman attitude and go all gooey knees. Well, fuck him but it worked. Casper's knees were nothing more than over-cooked syrup pretending to be bones.

Not that he'd acknowledge it. The day Roach Boy went around swooning over suave businessmen was the day he got his little milk jug or however the fuck you did it and made a latte heart on Corporate Child's mocha-fucking-ccino.

Never gonna goddamn happen.

So Casper drew his lips into a pout and tilted his head so it lay on his arm, put a mocking turn through his crow's rasp voice. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

A flash went across Cain's features – something intent that lit his eyes with embers. Casper's breath caught as Cain twisted to face him, elbows planted on the cabinet and his face just inches from Casper's. A lock of dark hair had fallen across his brow and Casper's fingers twitched with the urge to push it back.

His breath smelt of mint over cigarette smoke.

"Do you see that man there, Casper?" Cain spoke hard and intent, his words a crooking finger beneath Casper's chin, and Casper didn't need the tilt of Cain's head to know he meant Mr Hunchback Corporate Overlord in the Posh Ass Suit. "That is the Chairman of a very large, very important [] who currently has stakes in a [] that I want in on. Lucky for me, his [supply chain] is going bust. He needs a quick cop out. And it just so happens that my [mine in X] is about to run dry but has just enough swilling around the bottom to drag out the collapse for another year.

"Now he and I both know that his deal is weeks from blowing up and I am going to be coming out the other side the cat licking cream from his lips, but the beauty of business, Casper, is that when you need it, you need it, and he needs what I've got bad. A contract to provide [] is nothing when you can't make shit all in your ailing factories. So—a deal. But he knows he has the bad end, love, and I have it on good authority he won't take less than [ten billion] for that stake. Not—a—penny. But do you know what I'm going to walk out of this meeting paying him, Casper?"

It wasn't a pause for an answer, and even if it had been, Casper didn't even have a fucking thought inside his head, let alone words. Nothing but the way the sun dazzled the edges of his vision to diamonds and Cain's breathless passion lit up his whole face.

Dumb, Casper shook his head, and Cain leant in even closer. So fucking close Casper could feel the heat of his breath against his lips and see the gold rays sparking through his eyes.

"Mr [], Casper," Cain murmured, "is going to pay me five billion for the pleasure of taking a useless pit off my hands and rocketing me to the top of the global arms dealing market."

Casper couldn't quite help it. A laugh burst from his lips, one he caught in a click of teeth between a helpless grin. "No, he's fucking not."

Indignation splashed across Cain's face and he straightened up, scoffing. "Yes he bloody well is!"

"Yeah, yeah." Casper stepped back from the cabinet as well, and Cain trailed him over to the other side of the till. The coffee cups clashed above the low piano refrain. "No need to wank yourself off so hard, yuppie."

Still grinning, Cain tapped two fingers on the top of the coffee machine. A thick silver ring circled his middle finger, and the sunlight slid over the old, tarnished metal like mercury under the sun. "Just you wait, Casper. Five billion, not a penny less."

He really shone like something else like this. Passion, alight with spark of power as he trapped life between his snarling teeth. Got Casper right down in his bones all full of that bonfire smell.

Almost like seeing it that bright on someone else reminded his body what life felt like. And it felt so goddamn good not even his screwed-up head could bring that thought down. The coffee cup hung loose in his hands, and the pretence of business wasn't worth taking his eyes off the sun behind Cain's eyes.

Casper raised an eyebrow, purposefully mocking. "You think I care about your profit margins?"

Once more, Cain tapped the machine, a decisive air in this one as he drew himself up tall, shoulders wide beneath that long wool coat. The sunlight flashed across his throat, drawn down between the open collar of his shirt. "Five billion and I'll buy you dinner."

Dinner. The word hit like a punch, right in his fucking gut. Casper was shaking his head before he could think better of it and fuck thinking better of it anyway 'cause it just... It was wrong. Rich men didn't buy Casper dinner. Fucking no one bought Casper dinner and he wasn't going to take up some spur of the moment promise just to get let down the second he got his hopes up.

Casper put an edge in his smile. Not a nice one, and it was right there in the way Cain's eyes narrowed. "You'd better fuck off else Mr Matazzi over there'll get up and leaves before you can pay him."

Cain's tongue slid between his teeth, slow, considering, as his narrowed eyes picked Casper apart. His fingers made idle taps against the top of the coffee machine. Restless. And Casper was right about to spit something harder in his face when he stepped back.

"Very well." A dark smile crooked the corners of his lips and he waved his hand, purposefully aimless. "Wish me luck."

Casper bared his teeth. "I've never wished the rich richer."

The rich delight of his laughter rung between Casper's ears long after Cain had gone. For the rest of the afternoon, Casper stood, elbows planted on the counter, jaw cradled in his hands, just ... watching. Like fuck him for a mooning idiot, but every time he had to tear his eyes away for a customer, every cell in his being itched with the need to look back.

'Cause this – watching Cain laugh and grin like the devil, the elegant trails of his fingers as he stirred his coffee and turned coy words back on Mr Matazzi, the way the afternoon sun slanting through the window illuminated the rich silk of his shirt and the satin of his skin. It was all life, pure fucking crafted desire in each practiced shape of his lips and his shoulders and his hands, and fuck, Casper could only imagine the sentences he spun.

And Cain kept looking. Glances where the dark of his eyes caught on Casper and for a moment, the turn of that smile was just for him. Each time, it hit him like an adrenaline shot in his veins, and heat flushed in his cheeks, red stains hidden beneath his hands.

Had him so hooked that when he looked back from a customer and saw the pair stood up shaking hands, a little pang shook him. Kinda like his heart got up and pulled a swoon inside his chest. The broad grin across Cain's face sort of mollified it – y'know, at least he looked pleased with himself if he was depriving Casper of how stupid gorgeous he looked.

Asshole.

The sun shone dazzling across the high slope of Cain's cheekbones when he glanced back at Casper, the steel doorframe arching above his head. He winked, lashes casting long shadows over his cheeks, and pointed at the table where he'd sat.

Innocent enough once Casper went to clear it – flat white hardly touched, and Cain's cup drained and neatly squared on the tray. All but the folded note trapped between the cup and the saucer with Casper's name written in tall, sloping letters.

The note enclosed a crisp fiver – and Casper should sure as hell leave that out of principle, but he was broke as hell and it made him smile too goddamn wide to get pissy about it. Then the fiver didn't matter for shit anyway because the little note got him so weak in the knees that he had to fumble his way into one of those armchairs.

A coffee for my good luck charm, it read. Five billion and not a penny less. Then underneath, a little biro sketch of a smile.

A sketch of Casper's smile. 'Cause Cain sure as fuck didn't have a reason to be drawing any other grins with a black patch where two teeth should be. It took that for Casper to recognise it because no matter how much it looked like his mouth, Cain had made Casper's ugly fucking smile so beautiful it looked like a dream.

"You asshole," Casper muttered, head in his hand and a soppy grin on his lips. "You fucking asshole."

Some part of him could still taste the mint on his tongue.