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The barista at Mud’s peeked out from behind the top of the steam machine, squinting down. “You’re lingering today, aren’t you gonna be late to rowing practice or whatever? Or have I gone bonkers and forgotten it’s not actually Tuesday today?”
Impulse shook his head, leaning back in his seat. “Nah, they’re doing construction on the waterway, so it’s canceled. Plus Tango, our coxswain, is still feeling under the weather. Gonna hit the gym a little later, but I’m not in a rush. Good to relax for once, or so everyone tells me.” He took another long sip of his half-empty cup, as if to prove the point.
She grinned, full of mischief. “I see, so you’re stickin’ around just to hear my yapping?”
Impulse swallowed his cooling coffee, fighting a cough that rose in response, and tried to appear casual. “Something like that.” A friendly smile. “You’re good company, even if I still don’t know your name.”
The barista fluttered her eyelashes, adjusting the green headband keeping the hair out of her face. “Nice try, flatterer, but rules are rules. I don’t give that out on the clock. No exceptions, not even for friends.” She stepped off the stool she used to reach the top of the machine, leaning against the counter. “Have to try harder than that.”
Impulse’s mind flickered to the bag at his foot. At the flyer inside.
Just do it, Impulse.
“Just do it, Impulse. Just ask her if she wants to come to one of our shows!” Gem leaned against the amp, rolling her eyes. The low hum of quietly tuning strings rang under her words as she fiddled with the bass. “If she says yes, then you know she likes you back!”
Impulse rested his sticks on his kit. “It’s…it’s not that simple, Gem–”
“It could be!”
“She’s a barista, Gem! Being polite to customers is her job! I don’t want her thinking that if she says no, I’m gonna get angry–I know how that looks with a guy this big to a girl that small. And anyways, I can’t get a clean read on her.” He rubbed his hand against his temple. “It’s like, when she wears the red headband, I’m just another customer; she’s friendly, of course, but not nearly as…interested as she seems with the green one. I can’t tell if she likes me or not because it feels like it changes from day to day! ”
A harsh, half-tuned strum from Gem broke him from his thoughts. “Oh my god. You’re hopeless, Impulse! If you won’t even take a shot, of course you’re gonna miss! And if I have to keep hearing you pine over a mystery barista every time we practice, I’m gonna go tell her myself!”
“Impulse.” Scott leaned over the snare drum and put both his hands on Impulse’s shoulders, staring directly into his eyes. “You’re a very good friend of mine.”
“...yes?”
“You trust my judgment, and know I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“...yes.”
“You like her.”
“But–”
“I know. You’re gay. That doesn’t matter here.”
“I’m. Pretty sure it does?”
“The heart wants what it wants, Impulse.” Scott tilted his head, the corner of his eyes pulling in just so. “And if you don’t invite her to our next show, I’ll tell your coach you said you think his drills are getting too easy.”
Impulse gasped, his eyes widening. “You wouldn’t.”
A beat.
His eyes narrowed. “Actually, no, you totally would, wouldn’t you.”
Scott grinned, patting Impulse on the shoulder. “I would! You know I would!”
“Ugh, fine. I’ll ask her.” Impulse leaned back on the stool, picking up his sticks again. “Now can we please get to practicing?”
“Of course!” Gem grinned. “Gotta make sure she sees you at your best, right?”
“Shut it, Gem.”
The memory cleared, and Impulse set his resolve. He set down his cup, rummaging down in his bag. His hand wrapped around paper.
Deep breath.
“Hey, uh. Speaking of on, or I guess off, the clock. This might be a little out of left field, but. Here.” Impulse stood and placed the flyer on the counter. “The band I’m in, we’ve got a gig on Saturday down at the Giga Club. Not a big show or anything, but I was…wondering if you might wanna come hear us, instead of just hearing me talk about it all the time.” A beat, and he managed to add, “I…would like it if you could come.”
The barista’s eyes flickered from Impulse to the flyer and back, moving from surprise to a friendly mischief.
“Gem and the Scotts?” A raised eyebrow. “Is that your name, then? Been giving me a fake one for your coffee?”
“No!” It came out a little too fast, and Impulse tried to play it off. “No, uh, it’s–Scott’s my middle name. When we were trying out band names, it came up, and we liked how it sounded. But Impulse is my name, I haven’t been lying to you.”
The barista’s face twisted for a moment, an emotion that Impulse couldn’t read flickering across her face. It cleared just as quickly, back into that broad smile.
“Well, thank you for the offer, mister Impulse.” She swiped the flyer off the countertop, glancing down over it once more. “I’ll hang this up in the shop to see if anyone else wants to come, and…I’ll see if my schedule’s clear. No promises, though.”
Saturday came in a blink. Impulse stood at the edge of the small stage’s curtain, grounding himself.
She’s here, or she’s not. Nothing else I can do.
“Presenting…GEMMMMMMM AND THE SCOTTS!”
Impulse led, grinning wide as the crowd cheered, sticks in the air. He squinted against the spotlights. Settling into the kit, feeling the buzz before the show, looking–
At the back of the audience, behind his rowing team, near the bar. A simple black dress, and a necklace he couldn’t make out, and a red headband Impulse would recognize anywhere.
She’s here. She’s here. She’s here.
Impulse twirled a stick in his hand. His heart pumped double-time.
Gem counted in.
Impulse played his heart out, sending it into the drums, and hoping that somehow She would understand.
Gem peeked out from behind the curtain at intermission, squinting towards the bar. “So that’s her, huh?” An approving nod. “Not bad, Impy, not bad! You might be a wuss about it, but at least you’ve got good taste!”
Impulse paused in his nervous pacing to glare at her, and she stuck her tongue back out. Scott just chuckled at the two of them, keeping track of the time.
A glance back out, and Gem’s brow furrowed. “And who’s that with her?”
Impulse paused. “Who?”
Gem gestured at the curtain, standing aside. Impulse stepped up, and looked through.
A man, standing next to the barista, wearing a green hoodie jacket and giant sunglasses that hid his eyes. He would probably be her height if she wasn’t in heels, gesturing broadly with his drink, clearly landing the punchline of a joke.
And the barista was laughing. In a way that made the pit drop out of Impulse’s stomach. It was a laugh he’d heard from several people in his life; one he’d done himself, sometimes.
The laugh you make for someone when the joke is terrible, and you love them anyway.
The second set, Impulse didn’t look for her. He lost himself in the music, in the rhythm, in the double-time pedal.
Beating twice as hard to make up for the numbness in his chest.
By the encore, he’d come to terms with it.
This had always, always been a possibility. She’d said she would see if anyone else wants to come. Presumably, that would include her boyfriend. She’d never mentioned one; but he’d never asked.
And he was a professional, goddammit. A professional rower, and a professional drummer, and her friend. He could handle this. She just never needed to know.
“I’m so glad you came!” Gem grinned at the two figures walking up to them backstage, amidst the hustle and bustle of post-show packing. “Impulse talks about you all the time.”
“Gem!” Impulse hissed. The man with the barista badly hid a snicker behind his hand.
She remained unapologetic, sticking her hand out. “I’m Gem, these are my Scotts, thanks for coming to hear us, miss…?”
She shook Gem’s hand, smiling. “Pungence. And this is Bdubs.”
Bdubs stuck out his hand towards Impulse, sunglasses reflecting the overhead lights. “You’re the Impulse fella I keep hearing about, ey?” His voice sounded…off. Like he was forcing it lower than it should be.
Impulse took the hand, shaking it firmly. Polite. Professional. “That’d be me, yes. Pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m sure it is.” A cocky grin to one side, and Impulse tried not to feel a wave of heat in his gut. Insult to injury, but…Bdubs couldn’t possibly know. And they still came.
“Hey, can I borrow someone for a bit?” Scott called from across the stage, jerking a thumb towards some of the equipment. “It’s not heavy, but I need a second pair of hands–”
“Oh, me, I got it!” Bdubs raised his hand, and sprinted off towards him. Impulse blinked–that had almost sounded…
Pungence shook her head, sighing.
“Sometimes I think my brother comes to these things just to volunteer for cleanup duty. So that he can yap with the guitarists–used to play, you know?”
“Oh. Oh! He’s your–oh.” Impulse felt a wave of shame at his own conclusions–Of course it’s her brother–followed by an embarrassed kind of relief. “I’m sorry, I thought…I didn’t know you had a brother. Cool of him to offer to help, though, that’s very thoughtful of him.”
Once again, a flash of something unreadable across her face.
“Impulse.” Pungence bit her lip softly, not quite looking him in the eye. “This is going to be awkward, but. Can I ask how you feel about me? I have some ideas, but I feel like I need to hear it from you.”
Impulse’s heart raced. A flicker of the hope that had died out earlier flared back to life, burning full-force in his chest. The roller-coaster of a night didn’t stop.
Gem’s words raced in his head.
If you won’t even take a shot, of course you’re gonna miss!
He drew himself up, glancing back towards the stage. Everyone else was busy, and far enough away.
And Impulse answered.
“That’s…it’s complicated, Pungence. There’s so much about you that I don’t know, even with everything we’ve talked about. And I want to know more. About you, about your life. And I think you want to know more about me, because–well, you came to the show, didn’t you?” At her nod, he let out a shaky breath. “I know you’re my friend. That’s not complicated, at least. It’s thinking about anything else…”
Some part of him hesitates. The rest presses onwards.
“Sometimes when I’m in Mud’s, and another customer tries flirting with you, I…get this weird knot in my gut–not quite anger, but adjacent to it. Like they shouldn’t be doing that.”
“...you’re jealous?” Her voice came soft, looking up at him.
“Maybe?” Impulse flinched at the crack in his voice. “But, like, I don’t have any right to feel jealous–that’s for when someone challenges something that you have some kind of claim on, and I…I don’t have that. Feelings, yes, but is that enough? And I…”
A weak laugh, running a hand through his hair, feeling as nervous as before. “Pungence, I’ve been gay since middle school. It’s one of the few things about myself I’ve ever actually known, for sure, you know? I’ve never found myself attracted to a woman before, but…but then I met you, and now. Now I have been. And I don’t know what to do with that. Because it feels like I’m back in middle school, figuring out who I am, and how to deal with liking someone more than just a friend.”
A moment of silence. Impulse didn’t dare look at her eyes.
“And what makes it the most complicated,” he said, feeling almost lightheaded, “is that I can’t figure out how you feel about me. You’re nice to everyone, it’s. Literally your job. And half the time it feels like that’s all it is between us. Your job, nothing more. But half the time…half the time it feels like I’ve got a chance. Half the time it feels like I want a chance, but I know that if I’m wrong, I ruin the good thing that we do have, and…and all the time I care about you too much to risk that on a guess.”
Pungence looked at him. One hand lifted, slowly, pressing against her headband.
“...how do you feel when I wear this?” Almost not a question. “Red.”
Impulse felt his heart catch in his throat.
“When you…when you wear red? I…” His hand curled into a fist at his side. "I don’t think it’s anything more than friends. But I don’t know why that would be–”
“So it is me you’re in love with.”
Her voice coming behind him made Impulse turn, brow furrowed–
And freeze, staring. His eyes catching up to his brain.
Bdubs stood in front of him, the hoodie and glasses gone. Underneath it was the same black shirt, with the same coffee cup embroidered on the pocket. The same wide eyes, dancing with a surprisingly gentle hope.
And the same green headband, pushing the hair out of a face that looked exactly like it always had.
After he recovered from the shock, Impulse rested his head against the wall, eyes closed. “Twins.” It slipped out almost like a curse.
He’d never felt a bigger fool in his life.
Pungence patted him on the shoulder, looking apologetic.
“I’m sorry, Impulse–until just now, we didn’t actually know if you knew or not.” She chuckled softly. “When you said you didn’t know I had a brother, that was when we knew. Some people figure us out–not even identical twins are IDENTICAL, you know?--and the headbands are our way of signaling since we…are kind of in too deep at this point. That’s why I…asked that last thing I did, to make sure.”
Impulse took a deep breath, turning around to face the group. Gem and Scott had joined them, everything packed and everyone else gone by now. Gem looked puzzled; Scott looked like a cat in the cream.
“...am I allowed to ask why?” Impulse’s eyes darted between Pungence and Bdubs, who looked at each other for a moment.
“To start, it wasn’t for you. Or, because of you, or anything.” Bdubs scratched his shoulder, a familiar nervous tic. (That Impulse only now realized only happened half the time, how had he not figured it out?) “We’ve actually been doing it for…shoot, 4 years and some change? Before you started coming into the shop. Pretending to be the same barista. That’s why the rule about no worker names in the shop, you know?”
“Oh.” Impulse felt something lift. “That…actually does make it better, yes.”
“At first Pungence made me wear her clothes and pretend to be her so I could cover a couple of times when she wanted to sneak off during a shift, and it was like half bribery and half blackmail back then, cuz she said if I didn’t, then she’d tell our parents about me being the one to break the back door that one time. They weren’t happy when they found out what we were doing, either, but they did like that I was finally involved in the family business, so we just kept doing it as separate shifts.” He snorted softly, brushing a stray hair out of his face that had slipped free during the reveal. “Kinda became a bit, you know? Customers kept askin’ how she’d work so many hours without dropping, come in to see if she was there, and business rolled in on that curiosity.”
Impulse blinked, trying to process everything. “...huh.” It made a certain kind of sense.
“And the tips!” Bdubs’ eyes lit up fully. “Oh, baby, the difference in tips is like night and day from way back when I’d come in as my man self–even though the coffee I make is the same! If all it takes is a little bit of blush and mascara, and I triple my money for the day? I’d have to be stupider than I am not to do it!”
Gem shared a Look with Pungence, who returned it. At least he knows he’s a little stupid. They both are.
Bdubs went on, a little less confidently. “And then, I started to, I dunno. Kinda like it? Found myself not rushing to get undressed after work, or even doing it on my days off. Didn’t mind when people started holding doors for me and stuff. But I didn’t stop wanting to be myself, either–the me that was a man. I tried looking up online, to see if there was some kinda name for this, and I’ll be honest, it got confusing–nonbinary? Genderqueer? Fluid?”
A shrug, and Bdubs gestured at himself. “I’m just a guy, who’s a girl sometimes, but I’m always me. Doesn’t sound so complicated to me!”
Impulse blinked. “...I guess it doesn’t, when you put it like that.”
“So then with you, well.” Bdubs huffed a bit, trying to bluster over his admission. “I saw you coming in all the time, and we got to chatting, and. Well. You’re not hard to like, Impulse. So, yeah, I started to like you. But I couldn’t tell at first whether you liked me or you liked Pungence, because when I’d ask her about you, it was pretty clear that you had the hots for one of us, but hard to figure out who without, yaknow, giving up the whole goat!”
“...you asked her about me?” Impulse tried to control the heat rising to his cheeks.
Bdubs sputtered, flustered. “Yeah, well, you come in every day, okay? Several times! I need to keep tabs on my regulars, so that the next time I see them, I don’t forget the things they’re supposed to have told me!” He crossed his arms, glancing sidelong at his sister, who raised an eyebrow. “....okay, so maybe I only asked her about you, but that’s besides the point, okay? The thing was, by the time I figured out that I more-than-liked you, it’d been so long that…I didn’t know how you’d feel about me. Or, about me being her, half the time. I worried you’d feel, like, tricked, when it wasn’t on purpose.”
“My darling brother,” Pungence sighed, “thought that this whole rigamarole was the best way to handle things. Instead of just, you know, telling you the truth directly.”
“And you agreed to this?” Gem looked at Pungence.
“Yes.” She grinned, and a flash of familiar mischief came through in her smile. “Because I knew it could blow up in his face, and I will take any chance to watch Bdubs make a fool of himself.”
“HEY!”
Pungence laughed at Bdubs’ indignance. “I mean, I guess it did work out in the end,” she temporized, “but really. There were so many easier ways to do this.”
Gem threw up her hands, vindicated. “That’s what I kept saying!”
Scott nodded. “I told Bdubs that Impulse was ready to just never say anything unless pushed to it. And then you couldn’t even do it yourself, huh? Made her do it?”
Bdubs spluttered. “You–you make it sound so easy, bud!”
“You told– Wait, Scott, you knew?” Impulse whirled on him, and Scott just shrugged.
“That they were twins? I moved here before they started doing the whole barista bit, so, yeah. We’ve been friends for a while, and I knew how both of you felt about each other.” He flashed a winning grin. “Playing wingman for both sides is fun!”
Caught between indignation at Scott tricking him and gratitude for pushing this to happen, Impulse resolved to figure out his feelings on that later. (Gem elbowed Scott in the gut. That helped.)
“So.” Bdubs leaned against the wall and looked at Impulse, grinning. “Do you wanna give that whole speech again, or cut to the good part at the end?”
Impulse felt his heart flip. He leaned down, looking into Bdubs’ eyes.“If you know it was a speech, I think you heard it all, so I’ll ask something a little different, Bdubs.” Speaking his name for the first time, giving it reverence. He didn’t miss how Bdubs sucked in a breath.
“Can I kiss you?”
Bdubs’ eyes glinted with familiar mischief, and he gave a teasing shrug. “I dunno, big guy–can you kiss me, from all the way up there?”
And then he squeaked as Impulse casually grabbed him and lifted him against the wall, eye to eye. Somewhere behind them, he could practically hear Gem rolling her eyes.
A soft chuckle, ghosting across Bdubs’ lips. “Alright then. May I kiss you?”
Bdubs kissed him first.