Fill me Up, Buttercup
By Veste Notus
I knew that working in the local Starbucks would completely turn me off coffee, but I honestly didn’t expect that the mere *sight* of the freshly ground stuff would induce the urge to either vomit or suddenly need to take a shower to wash the stench off. Truth be told, I needed the money. My parents were very… shall we say… independent… people, who’s firm belief it was that every child should go out and earn their keep at the happy age of seventeen.
Of course, being their only son, I was no exception to this unwritten law.
So that explains basically why I was there. Starbucks training was actually rather intense. Apparently, there *is* a proper way of sipping coffee. Who knew? And who knew how many different flavors of coffee there are, without the addition of cappuccinos, frappuccinos, and lattes. I, fortunately, was able to handle all this information… somehow…
My people skills, however, were slightly ‘lacking’, at best, so my job was behind the register. I was too young still to make the drinks (who knew you had to be a certain age to brew coffee??), but I showed proficiency at operating the cash register, explaining how I came to hold my ‘coveted’ position.
Yeah, right.
Day in, day out, I’d work after school at the quaint little Starbucks at the corner of the quaint little street, in the middle of the quaint little town I lived in. Nothing huge. There were maybe thirteen customers a day, unless there was a group of teenagers meeting up at the coffee shop landmark, or some business folk closing a deal at the end of the day.
Needless to say, you get used to seeing a lot in a coffee shop. I mean, loads of people like coffee, and loads of people like the less caffeinated drinks and snacks we serve. So, of course, our target consumer is just about everyone. I’ve seen wrinkled people in their late sixty’s; I’ve seen newborns in strollers; I’ve seen people my age and older. All walks of life – from the scary people with bodies crawling with metal piercings, to the conservative schoolgirl type that buttons every single button on her collared shirt.
Did I talk to any of them? No. That wasn’t my job. My job was to take their money and hand them their change. I didn’t even give them their drinks or food. I was basically the bad guy who got the glares from impatient forty-year-olds who were too damn busy with their lives than to wait for me to properly count their change. It’s like they just didn’t care. Well *I* cared.
Didn’t anyone think of that??
I’d all but filled out my resignation on my terrible, minimum-wage job when, out of the blue, I saw *him*…
Okay, sounds stupid, but I discovered at that very moment that love at first sight is DEFINITELY a real thing. The minute I laid eyes on him and his chestnut brown hair, a million and a half thoughts flew into my head.
One of them was ‘looks like moca-ccino’.
“Pardon?”
K’so! Said that outloud??
“…Nothing… nevermind….” I mumbled quietly, looking down at the red tiled floor.
“No, really!” he urged politely. I lifted my head to meet his eyes. My guess, he was a newly turned seventeen-year-old with a few social problems, but generally a good ‘all-around’ guy. You learn much in the coffee business by just *looking* at people.
“Saa… You’re hair color… It er…” I could feel my cheeks reddening. “It’s stupid, really…” I stumbled out, wiping sweaty palms on my jeans. “It… looks like moca-ccino… but that’s a good thing, I mean… I like moca-ccino’s and…” AH! What the hell was I saying? My eyes darted around, searching for something to allow me to sink back into my little metaphorical hole until he left.
“Sounds great! I’ll take it!”
Wha…?
“Excuse me?” I questioned, the world’s dumbest look probably formed on my face.
“A tall moca-ccino, please. Thanks for the recommendation Mr.…” his voice trailed off as he extended a hand for me to shake.
“Yuy. Heero Yuy.” I responded, shaking his hand tentatively.
“I’m Duo Maxwell.” he said with a big, dopey grin on his face.
Someone handed him his coffee in a quick rush. It’s all over. He slipped the bill with a “Keep the change.”, and left.
So much for that, ne?
Okay, okay. So even *I’m* wrong every now and again!
Anyway, so Duo’s gorgeous self kept coming back and ordering a tall moca-ccino. It was grossly unnerving! Was he mocking me? Did he do it just to rub my face in my stupid slip-up earlier? Were people just that cruel??
But whenever I caught his eyes as he handed me a crisp five-dollar bill and expecting no change, I felt nothing but genuine truth. He was just getting coffee, not ridiculing me! I was just paranoid…
That’s it… paranoid…
After a few weeks, I’d gotten used to seeing his face as he’d walk in, order his ‘usual’ to me (which was very unusual, as I wasn’t the one to take down orders), and pay me the bill. Every now and then he’d ask if it’s been a long day, or I’d ask how the week was treating him. It was pretty standard conversation, but I grew dependent on seeing him everyday.
Sometimes, seeing his pale, heart-shaped face was the only ‘pick-me-up’ I’d have all day, which was rather ironic, seeing as I worked in a coffeeshop.
But one Friday in December changed everything. I was staying late because I didn’t have school the next day, as I always did. It was getting closer and closer to closing time, and I was busying myself by cleaning the counter of its excessive coffee stains.
My boss turned to me then from behind the counter and gruffly handed me my paycheck… well… he handed me a bunch of bills in an envelope serving to be my paycheck.
Of course I thanked him, but as soon as he left, I continued the scrub the counter. A few minutes after cleaning up, I realized I had nothing to do until closing time. Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the envelope to count my earnings. No, I’m not misery. My boss just had a habit of paying me significantly less than I worked for.
Luck was with him! He had counted my earnings correctly this time, and many, many crisp 5 dollar bills straight from the register fanned out before me. I had just shuffled them up into a neat pile to put back in the envelope when I realized something.
All the bills had writing on them. Not just any writing at that! Each bill was numbered, one through fourteen, and each of the fourteen bills had a word written on it in blue ink.
I cleared the counter and began piecing together the puzzle on two weeks worth of wages. A few moments later, a message of fourteen words laid spread out before me.
‘I can’t keep my thoughts off you any longer. I love you, Heero Yuy.’
I blinked twice and resumed my open-staring. Someone loved me? That was new! No one had ever confessed loving me before… But who was it? Was it a joke? My mind flew into paranoia mode as I flipped through rational explanations.
“Looks like you’ve got a crush.”
“What?!” I gasped out, the costumer’s voice breaking my panicked state of mind. I looked up and wanted to die.
Of all the people to see the notes, it *had* to be him.
“Duo! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” I softly chided. He put up his hands in mock defense and laughed.
“Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to startle you. Is it too late to order my usual?” he asked, eyes beaming up at me.
I looked back. The place was empty safe for Duo and I. I shrugged. “Not unless you mind it if I made it. The usual staff’s gone home for the night.”
“What a shame. Isn’t that lonely?” he questioned sincerely, as I’d turned around and began making his drink.
“No more than usual…” my voice trailed off as I concentrated on trying to make the best damned moca-ccino this boy would ever have… Yeah… I just wanted to impress him…
It hit me then. I *was* lonely. I mean, there I was, late on a Friday night, doing work that I’d never been allowed to do because everyone else went home to enjoy their lives. I felt like a real tool.
I handed Duo his drink and sighed as he fumbled with his winter coat to find his wallet.
I looked at the clock. “Forget it.” He paused and looked at me in silence. “Meh. This one’s on me.” I said with a shrug as I turned to clean the back counter. Making a moca-ccino is not a pretty thing.
I glanced back at him to see him staring straight at me.
“What?”
“Th-thank you.” he whispered lightly. I shrugged again.
“No problem.” I turned around and kept cleaning. When I had finished, I turned around to find that Duo had left. I exhaled a great sigh and looked up at the clock again.
Close, but not time yet. Damn.
“Well this sucks.”
“What does?”
My head jerked in the direction of the armchairs to the side of the service counters. Duo was lounging about in the big red chair, watching the snow fall outside through the great glass window.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were still here!” I quickly stuttered out, my face turning red from embarrassment.
“Don’t worry about it.” he responded calmly, getting up and moseying on down towards the counter… and towards me. “Do you do free refills?” he asked, batting his eyes at me.
“Your first cup was free to begin with!”
He laughed. “Ha! Caught me! Okay, I’ll pay for this next one!” He started fumbling through his coat pocket again.
“Don’t bother. I’ll give you another freebie. Just don’t tell my boss. He’ll kill me.”
Duo looked stunned again. I really wished he would have closed his mouth. His gaping made him look like a big fish… a very irresistible, big fish.
“C’mon, Heero! Now you’re making me feel bad!” he called out to my back as I made him his second cup of moca-ccino.
“Don’t worry about it.” I called back to him. I thought for a moment before adding “It’s my pleasure.” I handed him his new cup and cleaned up for another few minutes before checking the clock again.
“Closing time, Duo.”
He looked up from his cup. “Already? Boy does time fly, ne?” I silently agreed with a nod of my head.
“But seriously, Heero. Let me make this up to you.” the braided boy said, his eyes fixed on mine.
“You don’t have to. Do whatever.”
“Fine.” he replied with a grin. “I will.”
I didn’t expect him to make good on his word.
Slamming two 5 dollar bills on the counter, he leaned forward and captured my lips in an intense kiss. Everything I knew was lost. It was just us. And GODS did it feel good. It was like touching fire without getting burned.
I felt his tongue trace my lips, so I parted them softly, only to have them wretched open the rest of the way by his sheer urgency. Our tongues danced together, twirling and twisting hotly in each other’s mouths.
I broke the kiss for a quick breath before burying my hands in his hair and kissing him again with my own urgency. I licked his teeth, his tongue, even the roof of his mouth. I heard his throaty moans and felt their vibrations as my hands sought his skin under his shirt and coat.
I felt like I was on fire. I never felt desperation life that before. I needed to touch him. I needed to taste his vanilla skin and feel his moca-ccino hair draped over me.
“H-Heero…” he panted out, as he released my lips. I stared into his eyes, electricity still tingling on my lips.
“That was…”
“Amazing?”
“Yeah…”
I took his hand and threw him onto one of the red armchairs. I kissed him hotly again and locked the shop door. I flipped the sign to ‘sorry, we’re closed’, and dimmed the lights as low as they could go.
Making my way back to the gorgeous boy in the armchair, I nearly purred as I attacked his neck with tiny love-bites. It certainly was going to be an interesting night.
As the room got steamier and steamier, across the room, Duo’s two 5 dollar bills laid forgotten on the counter.
‘Be Mine.’
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