Macchiato

"Hey, welcome to Bean Me Up Espresso, how can I help you?" Jack asked boredly, not looking up from where he was lazily tracing invisible figures into the countertop before him. Slow days were always the absolute worst.

"Yeah, can I just get a vanilla latte macchiato," came the reply, and Jack couldn't help but glance up. Of course, that also caused a grin to spread across his face at what he saw standing in front of him.

Pretty tall, lightly tanned, slightly toned and over-all just insanely fucking attractive. A black beanie was sat atop hair that was (more than likely) straightened to perfection, a hint of the golden locks sticking from under the edges. He had a smile on his perfectly kissable pink lips, a thick eyebrow cocked in a silent question.

That wasn't what had Jack smiling like a fool, no. Well, sort of no.

"Isn't that a little too girly for a guy like you to be drinking?" Jack inquired, tone light and teasing so that the customer wouldn't take his joke the wrong way.

"I don't tell you how to live your life," the other boy said with a shrug, eyes slipping lightly closed in the process just enough for Jack to truly admire how long and dark his eyelashes were before opening back up to focus on the employee once more. "Besides, it's for your girlfriend, not me."

A laugh escaped Jack's lips at that as he stood up a bit straighter to type the order into the register. With a shake of his head, he was retorting, "That'd actually probably be really convincing if I weren't single and as gay as Elton John."

"She knew you'd say that, and she also wants me to tell you that no one is or will ever be as gay as Elton John," the other boy responded, chuckling a little and wow, that was a nice sound to hear.

Jack sighed, shrugged his shoulders. "I knew dating a girl with blue eyes was a bad idea."

"The name didn't give it away? Toni is, like, the common name for female Italian gangsters. Everyone knows that..." he trailed out then, gaze flicking from the employee's bright eyes and down to the name tag pinned in place over his apron, "Jack. Huh. Maybe you should go for a girl named Jill instead."

"I already have a Jill," Jack scoffed playfully, holding up his left hand so that his palm was on clear display.

"Do you talk like this to all your customers?" the boy in the beanie asked, tone taking on faux seriousness as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Jack was smooth with his answer of: "No, just the really cute ones."

A small blush overtook the other boy's cheeks as he shook his head, gaze turning towards the ground. "So I'm not special, huh? You must get a lot of cute people in here, wanting to talk to you and stuff."

Jack actually barked out a laugh at that, having to lean into the counter so that his legs didn't give out on him when he found it physically impossible to stop his near-crazed laughing.

The other male seemed pretty taken aback by the sudden and seemingly random outburst, but he soon found himself laughing along as well.

After a few minutes, though, when they'd both stopped choking around giggles, the other boy was stating, "I missed the joke." He sounded genuinely confused, as though he didn't really know what was going on or why it'd be considered so funny.

"Cute people don't like talking to me, is all," Jack answered simply, glancing at the amount on the register that the other boy owed. "But your total for that vanilla latte macchiato is four dollars and twenty-eight cents."

"Well, I really like talking to you," the customer said, reaching back into his pocket to pull out a five dollar bill and handing it over.

"I said cute people," Jack said with an added eye roll for that little bit of extra effect as he took the money. "And who said you were cute?"

"You did," the other boy replied matter-of-factly, smirk taking over his lips. "Like, not even two minutes ago."

“Did I?” Jack mused playfully, placing the five in the register and counting out the change before handing it over and holding a finger up, the universal ‘one minute’ sign. Turning, the boy with the ebony hair told the order to another worker, one who knew how to use the machines properly, and then he was back to facing the other boy.

“Yep,” the golden-haired boy stated, sounding rather proud and being sure to pop the ‘p’ for all its worth. “It went something like, ‘I only talk to really cute customers like this.’”

Jack took a moment to make his features seem almost thoughtful, face scrunching in mock concentration before he shrugged, shook his head. “Nope, doesn’t sound familiar at all.”

“Oh? Well, maybe you’d remember if we did this again tomorrow?” At this, the blonde boy bit his lip and tilted his head down towards the ground, gaze boring up at Jack through his eyelashes as a way to appear more innocent and desirable.

Once again, Jack seemed to deliberate before he nodded, answering, “Maybe I might.” He turned then, having felt a gentle tap on his shoulder, and took the coffee from one of his coworkers—Zack? Rian? One of the two… probably—and, in turn, handed it to the boy who’d paid for it.

“You never told me your name,” Jack said as the other male took an experimental sip of his macchiato.

“That, my dear Jack,” the customer said, backing away from the counter, “is for another day.”

With a quick wink and light laugh, he was gone through the front door, a wave being sent at the boy still stuck behind the counter through the glass windows that practically made up the front of the shop.

--- ---

The very next day rolled around almost too slow for Jack’s liking, but he didn’t really think the boy would come back to see him anyway. Why would he? He wasn’t obligated to or anything of the sort.

That, of course, didn’t stop his entire demeanor from perking up every single god damn time that little bell over the door would chime, and it only resulted in him being a bit disappointed when it was just another random face, one that he couldn’t have cared any less about.

By the time two o’clock rolled around, Jack had pretty much given up and, just as he’d done the day before, had resorted to staring aimlessly at the counter, pointer finger swirling random designs into the virtually spotless marble.

He didn’t even look up when the bell rang for the billionth time that day, and instead repeated his usual mantra of, “Hey, welcome to Bean Me Up Espresso, how can I help you?”

And, just like the day before, a reply of, “Yeah, can I just get a vanilla latte macchiato," had his head lifting, smile spreading eagerly.

“Hi,” said the golden-haired boy, lifting his hand to wave a bit. “S’me again.”

“Started to think you were gonna ditch me,” Jack said accusingly, standing a bit straighter to cross his arms stubbornly over his chest, turning his head away from the grinning cutie.

“And miss our first real date?” came the shocked reply. “Some of us aren’t used to this time-zone, y’know. My sleeping schedule’s all fucked, so I would’ve been here earlier, but I was, y’know, sleeping.”

“Thought I heard an accent,” Jack mused, punching the order into the register. “Coulda fooled me, though. But now you owe me four dollars and twenty-eight cents.”

“I don’t get a discount? Not even if I’m your date?” the other boy said with a pout, hand moving to pull out a five from his back pocket just as he’d done the day before.

“You’re only calling it a date so that you can get your frick fracken coffee cheaper,” Jack said with a gasp, taking the cash and putting it into the register, turning to place the order.

“Frick fracken?” the customer asked around a laugh.

“I’m not allowed to swear while on-the-job,” Jack explained, “so I have to be really careful about what I say, so… frick fracken.”

“How very rebellious of you,” the other boy taunted, and Jack could only shrug before turning to grab the coffee that’d been made.

“Well, I almost got fired one time for saying...” Jack trailed out there, making a show of looking around to be sure that no one was listening before leaning over the counter. The other boy reciprocated the action, and when he was close enough, Jack hissed out a quiet, “Shit.”

With a cheeky grin, Jack resumed his upright position behind the counter and handed the macchiato to the boy in the beanie.

“God fucking damn, what a terrible ass thing to say,” the customer said, nodding his agreement as he took a sip of the cool liquid. “But we’ll have to continue this talk tomorrow, yeah?”

Jack didn’t even hesitate to reply with an, “It’s a date.”

--- ---

Days passed, turning into weeks, and the golden-haired boy with the voice smoother than the vanilla latte macchiato he’d never fail to order would always show up around the same time to have flirtatious little chats, always saying that his name was ‘for another time.’

“Hey, vanilla,” is what Jack resorted to addressing him as, and he’d still ask the same, “Can I get you something new for once today?”

He wasn’t actually ever expecting to hear a, “Yes,” so to say he was a little shocked when he did would be an understatement.

He only faltered slightly before smiling and inquiring, “So what’ll it be today?”

“Well,” the customer mused, teeth pressing gently into his bottom lip to stifle his smirk, “I still want the vanilla latte macchiato, but I also wanna know how much your number costs?”

Jack immediately looked towards the register, gaze searching for a button with the words ‘Your Number’ printed on it, but he stopped halfway through the rows when he realized what the other boy had meant.

The employee glanced up at the male on the other side of the counter, taking note of how the smirk he’d been donning had shifted into a gleeful grin, teeth still clutching his lip lightly.

“For you,” he started, line of vision moving back towards the register, “the number’s on the house—for nothing more than the mere price of your name—and the vanilla latte macchiato co—“

“Just keep the change,” the boy in the beanie said with a laugh, pushing the five across the counter.

“Feeling generous today, are we?” Jack asked, cocking an eyebrow before leaving to make the coffee—something he’d learned to hopefully impress his sort-of beau.

“A little bit,” the other male called after him.

“A whole seventy-two cents worth,” Jack gasped as he put the finishing touches on the drink, being sure to grab one of the few sharpies lying around to write his name and number along the carefully curved foam.

“It’s more generous than I’ve been these past however many weeks I’ve been coming to see you,” the other remarked as the drink was handed over to him. He took a moment to read the black lines written on it aloud, being sure to mix-up the last two digits, just to make sure it was a real number, and when Jack made sure to correct him, he smiled.

Jack completely forgot about the deal he’d made when the boy across the counter smiled up at him, dimples on brilliant display and eyes twinkling under the florescent lights of the shop.

“I know I’m usually here a little longer, but I gotta head out now. See you tomorrow, Jack.” A kiss was blown his way and the employee almost swooned, having to hold onto the edge of the counter when a wink was sent immediately afterward.

It wasn’t until his shift was almost up did he remember that he was meant to get the cutie’s name—and hadn’t—and he felt kind of disappointed, a little upset. He’d been going on kinda-sorta mini dates with this kid for weeks, and he still wasn’t fucking allowed to know his name?

With a sigh that seemed to go on for the last half hour of his working day, Jack pouted for all he was worth. He moped his way into the backroom, sulked his way to his locker, and dejectedly checked his phone, only to see a text from an unknown number flash across his screen.

Hey, Jack, it read, it’s vanilla latte macchiato, but now you can just call me Alex.

And, really, Jack couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so happy for something as simple as vanilla.