Coffee and Cigarettes

When the artist steps into the cafe, Shea would be lying if he says he wasn't disappointed that he was not by himself. There's another person behind him, shorter in height but stockier in build. He's looking around the room as if everything is an adventure, as if this whole place has one huge secret that he must find out.

Shea raises his eyebrow at his new customers, but doesn't say a word. He does his best to avoid Oliver's eye contact, he can feel him looking at him though and the idea of the other boy's intriguing eyes on him sends an odd shiver down his spine.

He knows that his co-worker, the ever so lovely (sorry, irritating) Pash is watching his every move as if he were some kind of convict. He can never really get any peace in this place without fear of being sussed out or ridiculed by his fellow colleagues.

Or maybe he's just reacting about this all too strongly. Shea is slightly annoyed with Pash at the moment as well, he said he'd pay him back for having taken over his shift to do whatever in God's name the boy does, and he hasn't.

In fact, he owes him more now than he had a week ago. Shea gave him his old suit he wore to a stuck-up prom - he never asked. Shea gave him a fake ID - he never asked. And of course, not to mention that he had to cover for Pash again at work two times over. He would be stupid if he didn't realize that Pash was up to something, and Shea wanted to know what it was.

His mind trails from Pash as he watches the two people make their way over to where he is standing rather awkwardly behind the counter. To these people, he probably seems ridiculous, especially with how he's staring into outer space. Thankfully, no one brings this up.

He's now face to face with Oliver and now he's thankful that he actually works at this cafe because he loves getting to talk to Oliver like this, even if it is questions such as 'what would you like, sir?"

Shea finds himself a little lost for words this time and as he tries to open his mouth and say something, as a greeting of sorts, nothing seems to come out. He's worried that all of this thinking has made him lost it completely. The young man next to Oliver smiles at him, at first it would seem nice but it only seems more and more patronizing.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asks Shea, and Shea has to be careful not to give back a nasty remark, because that's how he is. He doesn't like people who try and get the best of him. Especially when they're standing next to a gorgeous boy named Oliver.

Shea takes a deep breath, counting down from ten in his head. He'd be damned if this actually works to calm him down, but luckily, Oliver manages to do so instead.

"Don't be like that, Jonah. Maybe Shea doesn't feel well today," he makes up an excuse for him and really, he's right. Shea feels sick right now.

So that's the other boy's name, at least he knows whose name it was he'd be cursing at night.

In only a few seconds of their conversation (that was mostly one-sided), a queue is beginning to form. Shea can tell people are becoming impatient and no matter how much he wants to keep Oliver here, that is unprofessional.

Pash is now beside him, being helpful for once and trying to serve the other customers. Jonah's eyes trail towards Pash, as they both meet each other's gaze for a short second. Pash acknowledges him with a nearly inaudible 'hello' before looking away again.

It isn't like Shea could lie and say he hasn't noticed that at all, he has to ask Pash about that later. He adds that to his to do list before quickly asking Oliver and Jonah what they want to order. Oliver wants the same thing that Shea picked for him last time, and Jonah wants a lemonade. With the order made, the two other boys go off to find a table at the far back, not where Oliver usually sits.

The younger boy grumbles silently, he's annoyed that everything isn't going how it usually does. He likes order, but of course this had to be ruined, didn't it?

For the rest of his shift, he finds himself occasionally (more like every five seconds) peering over at Oliver's table. He's quite mesmerized when he sees the older boy laugh at something Jonah says, and he feels a twinge of jealousy because he could be the one that made him laugh like that. Not Jonah.

He doesn't fully comprehend why he hates this newcomer so much, he'd only just met him and he was already feeling a slight dislike towards him. Maybe it's because he's taking away Oliver's attention from him, as he has finally managed to make some sort of link between the two of them, even if it did take an impossibly long time for that link to be formed.

But then again, Shea's not really anything to Oliver. He's not his friend, nor is he really even an acquaintance. He's just a guy serving him at a cafe, and this recognition makes Shea feel distanced from Oliver, and a little saddened too.

He's finding himself staring down at the variety of cakes, instead of listening to his current customers order. His mind is full of so many thoughts that he feels like his head might explode, and all he wants, the only thing he craves at that moment, is Oliver's undivided attention. And he fears that he unfortunately will never get it.

Time seems to go by ridiculously slowly and the art students are still chatting at the back, seeming to be unaware of the time themselves.

Shea's watching the clock, watching the time tick by with every second. It's only a minute now until he can go home, go watch television or start that history paper which is long overdue. However, he can see himself doing neither of these things because he never does homework, he's the kind of person to procrastinate religiously to the point where it gets ridiculous.

He's going to go home and get shouted by his mother and the thought of that really puts a damper on his day. He wishes she'd just have faith in him a little more, she expects that he's a good-for-nothing and that he will never amount to anything. He knows that this might be true, but at least he'll have his cafe and his friends. At least there's that.

And now he's feeling extremely upset, and he knows if he thinks about it too much he'll draw attention to himself and that's not what he wants. He needs to be strong, he needs to seem like nothing bothers him because he's not supposed to be weak. Shea feels like his walls are slowly coming down though, it's unstoppable and inevitable.

The clock strikes 6 o'clock and Shea walks swiftly to where the colleague's clothes are supposed to be hung. He almost rips the cafe shirt off by how he's becoming quite frantic to get away. He doesn't really care that he's sort of undressing where people may see him, he's got his back to any audience anyway.

If Ivan were to see him now though, he'd probably be told off but the idea of this is long gone when he hears footsteps behind him and a hand tapping on his unclothed shoulder.

"Thanks for the brownie again, you are a great baker," Oliver is now standing behind him, and the fact that he's casually talking to him while Shea is trying to get undressed makes everything ten times more awkward. Now he wishes he hadn't been in such a rush to leave.

Shea turns around and meets Oliver's eyes, and he thinks he sees a glint of something there - possibly mischief - that makes the fact that his chest is exposed equally embarrassing. But of course, he has to keep his cool and not act like an idiot. So he tries to muster a smile, a small one that looks more like he is glaring than anything else.

Oliver now looks at him weirdly, and Shea's now scared that he might have done something to creep him out. He's grabbing his casual shirt as fast as he can, fumbling a slight bit as he tosses it on - and gets his hand stuck in the wrong place.

"Fuck damn it," he curses underneath his breath and he can hear Oliver cough in some awkward way that tells him to stop swearing because Oliver isn't the type of guy to condone such a thing.

This is followed shortly by a chuckle, hands reaching out to his arms as Oliver helps him to fix the mess he's gotten himself in until he sees Oliver's dusty blond hair and his captivating eyes. And he's staring again, properly outright staring like some freak.

Shea doesn't really know what he's doing, but the words seem to leave his lips before he can stop himself. "Would you like to meet up sometime?" he asks rather loudly, loud enough for Pash and Ivan, who were conversing about something to look up and smirk at him knowingly. He knows they are going to him hell later for this.

Oliver looks taken aback at first, as if the question sounds odd to him, but then he's bursting out laughing and Shea's smiling like a happy idiot. It's like his wish finally came true, Oliver is laughing because of him.

"Yeah, of course. You should have asked sooner, but you don't have to act like that around me," he chuckled, calming down a slight tad.

Shea furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Like what?"

"Like I'm about to bite you or something, you don't need to be so cautious. Be as forward as you like, Shea."

Shea's positive that is the first time Oliver has called him by his name and his mind is confused on whether to retort back and say that he's not acting cautious or whether to gush happily at the fact that Shea came out of Oliver's lovely mouth.

So all he does in frown, wondering whether Oliver's bringing out another side of him that he never knew about.