#oat milk lavender is nectar of the gays

[mixsethaddams]

Modern coffee shop Steddie AU

Steve had been trying to talk to his favourite customer for months. Well, beyond the usual “and that’s a medium, right?”, anyway. His hair was the first thing Steve noticed. Big, curly, messy hair that seemed to have a life of it’s own. It had been pulled back into a bun one day and Steve thought he might never recover. He wore sunglasses one particularly bright day, and Steve spent the rest of his shift sulking at not being able to see those giant brown eyes.

Some of Steve’s coworkers thought this guy was a little rude, even though he always said please and thank you. He always wore headphones and only barely pulled one side out when he made his order and paid, putting it right back as soon as the transaction was over, and had started a new habit of leaving his scrunched up receipt at the collection point. Steve didn’t mind though, especially because sometimes when he picked up his drink he’d call Steve ‘sweetheart’.

No one in the cafe knew his name. He would give a fake one every time he came in (a particular favourite of Steve’s had been ‘Gizmo’) and he never accepted an offer to sign up for a loyalty card.

Steve had tried everything to interact with him. He’d offer all of the additional add-ons, he’d ask him about his day, talk about the weather, comment on his tattoos. He had even googled “How to start a conversation” one morning before walking to work. All any of it earned him was a two or three word answer and a small nod as he left.

For a few weeks now Steve had been subtly editing the warning label on the bottom rim of his cups to try and get his attention.

Be careful! The beverage you’re about to enjoy is extremely hot!

But it never worked. Steve deflated a little every time the cup was swiped up off the counter with barely a glance up as he said goodbye for the day.

So much so that one day he didn’t even bother to strikeout half of the warning. He figured it was pointless. There would be no Meet/Cute story that came from the attempts at flirting, no matter how heavy handed or subtle the approach.

Steve was on his own in the almost empty cafe to close up when the man came in and ordered his usual, decaf because it was so late, and took his usual waiting spot. Steve made the coffee with no attempt to strike up a conversation. He called out “Medium decaf latte, oat milk and lavender” and went back to getting his station cleaned up for the night.

“Hey,” came a voice from behind him.

Steve turned slowly to see the man standing at the collection, cup held up.

“Everything ok?” asked Steve.

“You don’t like me anymore or something?” he asked, a strange look on his face.

“I… what?” said Steve, not sure how to respond.

“Am I not hot anymore, sweetheart?”

Steve felt his cheeks flare.

“Didn’t think you noticed,” he mumbled, swatting the balled up receipt into the bin.

“Do you always throw those away?” the man asked, his eyes following the paper to the trash.

“The receipt? Yeah you always scrunch it up, why would we keep it?” said Steve.

“Maybe take a look at that one,” he said with a sigh, sitting his cup back on the counter.

Steve pulled the receipt back out of the garbage and unfurled it. His eyes widened when he saw what was scrawled across it in black pen.

Hope you had a great shift today, handsome!

Steve looked up with his mouth hanging open.

“You… Wrote… Everyday?” Steve couldn’t find the words make his question make sense, but the man smiled anyway.

“Uh, yeah, well ever since you started flirting with me through the medium of a coffee cup, anyway,” he said, wiggling the drink in his hand. “You always look too busy to talk so I thought it was worth a try,”

“But you never even tell me your name,” whined Steve, hating that he’d missed out on weeks worth of notes and the chance to actually talk to his crush.

“It’s Eddie,” he said simply, looking him dead in the eye. “And I always give a fake one because you always laugh at them,”

Eddie finished with a shrug and took a sip of his drink. Steve’s mind was racing.

“I’m not busy now,” he said, pointedly ignoring the fact he still had more than forty-five minutes left on his shift. “Can we talk now?”

Eddie laughed, just as the bell over the door rang and a group of four people talking loudly about a movie they’d just seen came in.

“You are though,” said Eddie, glancing towards them before taking out his phone and handing it to Steve. “But put your number in there. When do you get off?”

“I’ll be out of here in like, an hour,” said Steve checking his watch, fingers shaking as he typed his number in on Eddie’s screen and handed it back.

Steve felt his own phone vibrate in his pocket.

“Now you have mine too,” said Eddie. “I’m going to call you in sixty-three minutes, and maybe we can go grab a drink and talk for a while then?”

“Ok,” said Steve with a shy smile and a nod. The other customers were standing at the register now.

Eddie winked at him and walked towards the door.

“I’ll tell you what all those other notes said, too!” he called over his shoulder.

Steve practically floated over to the register to greet the group of customers, and thought that the next sixty-three minutes would never pass fast enough.

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