Like Coffee Loves Cream
Title: Like Coffee Loves Cream
Author: allyndra
Recipient: eleawynn@gmail.com
Prompt: I would like I would like to see either a seductive Kevin fic, where he uses his wiles to get Mike or something fluffy and romantic, maybe even a coffeeshop AU. So a few options, but anything else you want to write would be fine as long as it doesn't dip into noncon. Also sidepairings are lovely, I especially like Bill/Nick. Any rating.
Word Count: 4,510
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kevin's going to ask Mike out. Really, any day now. Coffee shop AU.
Author's Note: Almost a month late; I cannot apologize enough.
Kevin had been pulling espressos all morning, and it had to stop. His arm was going numb, he had espresso grounds all over the front of his apron, and the steam from the cappuccinos had taken his hair from curl to frizz.
“Jon,” he said plaintively. He could do plaintive well. It was better when he backed up the tone of voice with puppy eyes, but since Jon was out of sight behind the bakery case, Kevin had to make do. “Jon, you love me, right?”
“More than daisies,” Jon replied. Kevin spent a moment trying to remember how much Jon liked daisies.
“Is that enough to move me to another station? I’ll do anything. I’ll do register,” he said desperately. “But I’ve made five million drinks so far today, and I’m about to die.”
Jon popped out from behind the bakery case, and Kevin seized his chance, unleashing the full might of his puppy eyes upon him. Jon just smirked, and Kevin felt a sudden, terrible doubt. Maybe puppy eyes only worked on his mom. That would suck. Kevin knew his own strengths, and, frankly, he didn’t have many others to fall back on.
Then Jon held his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. Geez, make sure you only use your powers for good.” He called back over his shoulder, “Hey, Brendon, trade out with Jonas.”
Kevin did a little skip as he moved to take over the register. Brendon gave him a complicated high five as he passed and said, “Better you than me. People are grumpy today.”
Kevin massaged his tired arm. He could deal with grumpy.
There was already someone waiting for him when he slid behind the register. Kevin swiped a hand down his speckled apron and put on his best ‘at work’ smile. “What can I get for you today?”
It turned out, Brendon hadn’t been joking about the grumpy people. Kevin had never received more surly looks or fewer tips. He smiled determinedly on, but it was getting harder with every sharp word and irritated glare.
The last customer before Kevin’s shift ended looked just as pissed off as the five before him. Possibly more pissed off, because his face seemed to have been designed especially for scowling. Kevin swallowed and said, “What can I get for you today?” His voice sounded weak in his own ears, which was pretty pathetic. What kind of person didn’t have the emotional fortitude to work in a coffee shop?
The man’s eyes flicked dismissively over Kevin. “You can get me the manager.”
“Um.” Kevin hadn’t even had a chance to screw up his order yet. “Manager?”
“Maybe you’ve heard the word before?” the guy said sarcastically. “A person in charge, usually more competent than the average employee.” His eyes sharpened on Kevin’s face. “Although that’s not always much of an accomplishment.”
Kevin flushed red and was very grateful that no one was in line behind this man. Being insulted in front of people was worse than being insulted alone. He leaned away from the counter to call back into the kitchen, “Jon.” Turning back to the customer, he said, “I’m sure he’ll be right out.” And then he had to stand there like a moron while he waited for Jon, staring down at the counter and up at the ceiling. It was pure, perverse chance (since he’d been making a point of not looking at the customer) that he saw the guy’s face break into a beaming smile when Jon came up behind Kevin.
Wow. Okay, Kevin was clearly, clearly wrong about the scowling thing, because this man’s face was made for smiling. The breath actually, physically caught in Kevin’s throat at the sight, and he hadn’t thought that was possible outside of a heavy exercise. He reminded himself firmly that the man was a jerk.
“Mike!” Jon looked like he wanted to jump the counter, but there were still other customers in the store, so he just leaned forward and gave the man a back-slapping half-hug. “I was starting to thing you were imaginary, man.”
The guy, Mike, laughed. “How the fuck would I be imaginary?”
“Well, Bill talks about you, but I never see you around anymore.” He glared when Mike kept laughing. “F- Shut up, it makes complete sense.”
“Sure, when you’re high,” Mike agreed. Jon flushed under his beard, and Kevin bit his lip to keep from laughing at him, too. Not that he had a problem with laughing at Jon, just at horning in on someone else’s conversation.
Brendon rescued him by saying, “Hey, Spencer’s here to take register, but there’s no room for him up there. One of you has to move.”
“Me!” Kevin said, shooting his hand in the air. Okay, maybe there was no way to rescue him from himself. He ducked around Jon, still blushing red, and then around Spencer, who was standing with his arms crossed, waiting for Kevin to get out of his way.
Luckily, Brendon followed him into the tiny break room when Kevin went to grab his stuff. “So, day from hell or what?” Brendon asked, leaning against the wall and kicking one heel back to thud in a dull rhythm.
“Day from hell,” Kevin agreed. He opened his locker and pulled out his slightly smooshed backpack. “Is there something in the air?”
“Asshole smog,” Brendon suggested. Kevin stopped and stared at him. Brendon tilted his head, like he’d just realized what he’d said, a grin starting small at the corners of his mouth and growing to take over his whole face. They burst out laughing at the same time.
“That’s what,” Kevin gasped, “That’s what Joe gets when he eats Nick’s chili.”
Brendon had his hands spread on either side of him, palms flat against the wall like he was holding himself up. “That’s what everyone gets when they eat Nick’s chili,” he said.
Kevin’s face hurt from laughing and his stomach muscles were sore. It shouldn’t be that funny, but it really, really was. “Dude,” he said. “I am so glad I know you.”
Brendon stopped laughing and gave Kevin a fond smile. “That’s because I’m awesome,” he said. Kevin just nodded. He closed his locker and slung his backpack over his shoulder, motioning for Brendon to lead the way. They passed Jon and Mike just outside the door, and Kevin didn’t even flinch when he saw that Mike’s face was settled back into a scowl.
***
Brendon always said he exaggerated, but Kevin was pretty sure he would have curled up and died his first semester away from home if the two of them hadn’t met. He’d been homesick and lonely, missing his parents and brothers and even the church so much he could barely function. Brendon had been in his eight am history class, and he’d been just as lost. Their professor had offered an optional study session, and Brendon and Kevin were the only students lame enough to show up for it. Instead of talking about fin de siècle technology, they’d talked about how many times they had missed Family Game Night since they’d left home. After that, they didn’t even pretend to study when they met up.
They’d dated at the end of their freshman year, and Kevin thought it was sort of perfect. Not the relationship (which was doomed from the start), but working out his issues with someone who understood. They’d had awkward, inexperienced sex and buoyant, loud singalongs. Two years after they’d stopped having the sex, they still had the singalongs.
***
Joe had followed Kevin to college when he’d graduated, and they’d gotten an apartment together. With Nick visiting for the summer, it was a little crowded, and Kevin found himself hanging out at the coffee shop even when he wasn’t working, just to get out. During the semester, he brought his homework along, but today he just had the newspaper crossword puzzle. He’d had to sneak it out of the apartment under his shirt, because Joe was some kind of crossword savant. He would do the entire puzzle in ink, without looking anything up. It was unnatural.
Kevin claimed the table in the back corner of the coffee shop and settled in with his crossword and a raspberry steamer. (Despite loving the smell of coffee, he’d never actually learned to handle the taste or the caffeine. Everyone he worked with found this hilarious.) He’d only completed a few clues when someone pulled out the chair across from him.
“Hey.” It was Jon’s friend Mike, from yesterday. He wasn’t scowling today, but he wasn’t smiling at Kevin like he had at Jon, either. Kevin told himself that was okay. He didn’t need to see that smile again, anyway.
“Hey,” Kevin replied, waving his pencil a little in greeting. Apparently, that was enough for Mike to feel welcomed, because he sat down and leaned forward across the table.
“Hey, I wanted to apologize for being a dick yesterday.”
Kevin blinked at him. “Okay.” He traced the eraser of his pencil over the table, leaving pale, dull marks on the shiny surface. “Everyone has a bad day sometimes.”
Mike smiled, and Kevin swallowed hard. “Naw, I wasn’t even having a bad day. Partly I’m just a dick sometimes, but partly I get a kick out of hassling Jon’s employees. I mean, Jon as a manager will never stop being funny. I’ve known him since we were kids.”
Kevin cocked his head, trying to imagine Brendon or Joe in a position of power someday. (Nick, he could actually picture in a management position right now.)Yeah, it would be funny, but Kevin didn’t think he would need to harass the innocent people who worked for him. Also, “Jon’s a really good manager, though,” he pointed out loyally. He tried really hard to work around everyone’s class schedules, he gave them leftover baked goods at the end of shift, and he’d once gotten in a whipped cream eating contest with Spencer that had left both of them looking like Santa Claus. He was a fantastic manager.
Mike nodded equably. “Still funny,” he said.
Kevin shrugged and looked down at his crossword. He filled in “Hare” and took a sip of his steamer. When he looked back up, Mike was watching him. It was unsettling. For one thing, Kevin had assumed (not that he’d been thinking about it, really) that Mike’s eyes were dark, probably brown. Up close, though, they were light and sort of greenish, and they felt like they were looking into Kevin’s soul. (Which meant that Nick was probably going to give Kevin another lecture soon about controlling his imagination.) Regardless of their possible soul-looking powers, Kevin found himself staring into Mike’s eyes for probably way too long.
Then Mike blinked, and Kevin looked away. “Austin,” Mike said.
Kevin frowned. “What?”
“For five across. ‘Powers or Texas.’ Austin.”
“Right.” Kevin wrote the answer in. He looked at the rest of the puzzle, tapping his pencil eraser against his lower lip thoughtfully, then raised his eyebrows at Mike expectantly. “Wanna do the crossword puzzle with me?”
And Mike … Mike was staring at the pencil. More precisely, he was staring at Kevin’s mouth and the pencil eraser still touching it. Kevin lowered his hand, and Mike’s eyes stayed on his lips instead of following the pencil. Tentatively, Kevin licked his lips, and yeah. Mike was definitely watching.
Kevin nudged the paper toward him. “Crossword?”
“Yeah,” Mike said, finally looking away from Kevin’s mouth. “Absolutely. Let me see the clues.”
It took them over an hour to finish the puzzle, and Kevin was aware of it every time Mike’s hand brushed his, pointing out a clue. He was also aware that Brendon was lurking in the dining room watching them for a good chunk of that hour. When Kevin triumphantly folded up the paper, Mike sat back and gave him a considering look. Kevin waited, but Mike just stood up after a minute and said, “Anyway. I’ll catch you later.”
Kevin nodded. “Sure. Bye.” He watched Mike walk out the door, feeling a little cheated. Shouldn’t something more have happened?
Brendon, who had been refilling the napkin dispensers unnecessarily for the past ten minutes, crossed the room as soon as the door closed behind Mike, sitting in the empty chair. “So,” he said brightly, “Mike thinks you’re hot.”
Kevin blushed. “No accounting for taste,” he mumbled. And then, “Hey!” because Brendon had reached across the table to smack him upside the head.
“Mike thinks you’re hot,” Brendon repeated, his voice and face stern.
Kevin wrinkled his nose but dutifully said, “Nothing wrong with his eyes, then.”
Brendon smiled. “That’s better. So …” He waggled his eyebrows.
Kevin looked down. He twisted the paper into a tight, crumpled mess. “I think he’s kind of hot, too.”
“Really?” Brendon sounded so skeptical that Kevin was offended on Mike’s behalf. He glared, and Brendon said, “Sorry, sorry. He’s just not my type.” This was true. Brendon’s type was extremely pretty, which, in retrospect, was a huge boost to Kevin’s ego. “What are you going to do about it?”
Kevin considered it for a long moment. “I think I’m going to ask him out,” he finally replied.
“For real? When?” Brendon could be excused for looking skeptical this time, because Kevin was notorious for backing out of these things. But this time, he promised himself, would be different.
“When I’m sure he wants to go out with me.”
“Kevin.” Brendon gave him a pitying look, like he was exceptionally slow and maybe needed help getting his shoes tied. “I’m pretty sure he wanted to drag you into the bathroom about five minutes after he sat down.”
“Oh, my -” Kevin was aghast. “I know every single person who has to clean that bathroom,” he protested.
Brendon laughed. “Not the bathroom, then. But the point remains: He’s hot for your pale little bod. What’s with the waiting?”
Kevin twisted the newspaper a little tighter. “Okay, so he maybe wants to hook up with me right now.” He thought about the way Mike watched his mouth and mentally changed the ‘maybe’ to a ‘probably.’ “But I don’t know if he wants to date me. And that’s what I want. So, waiting.”
Brendon nodded solemnly. He’d been around for the tragic aftermath of Kevin’s last attempt at sleeping with guys without dating them. It hadn’t been pretty. Kevin (both he and Brendon, really) had been working very hard to overcome the notion that sex was dirty and wrong and that gay sex was extra dirty and wrong. It had been mostly successful, but when Kevin just tried to hook up without a deeper connection … well, the shame spiral had eaten most of Spring Break.
“He’d have to be an idiot not to want to date you,” Brendon said staunchly. “Just be yourself.”
“Right. Be myself.” Kevin sighed. The problem was, himself was super lame. He was majoring in English, which meant he was probably going to work in this coffee shop until he died, he wasn’t out to his parents, and he still had his entire childhood stuffed animal collection.
“Brendon,” Jon called, leaning forward over the counter so he could see into their corner of the shop. “Are we taking a break?”
Brendon blinked at him innocently. “We are offering exceptional service by making our customers feel valued.”
“I’m pretty sure Kevin already knows we value him,” Jon said. “Come clean out the cooler.”
Brendon got reluctantly to his feet. “It’s going to be awesome,” he said. He stooped over to hug Kevin around the shoulders and added, “And next time I get a crush, you owe me so much BFF supportiveness."
***
Kevin's wooing of Mike was possibly the worst kept secret off all time. Brendon swore he didn't tell anyone, but Spencer and Greta and everyone else at the coffee shop knew. Greta thought it was adorable, and Spencer just thought it was a good reason to laugh at Kevin. Despite the fact that he kept catching Jon looking at him with an expression of deep amusement, Kevin chose to believe that Jon's silence on the subject meant that he was unaware.
Mike ... Mike seemed completely ignorant of Kevin's intentions. Kevin pulled out his best moves; he wore the black shirt that made his neck look long and (allegedly) bitable, he drank foamy drinks so he would have an excuse to lick his lips, he let his hand rest casually on Mike's arm when he talked to him. Nothing. Sometimes Mike gave him the 'hot sex in the bathroom' look, but he never looked like he was considering where to take Kevin for the perfect date. (For the record, that would be riding the Ferris wheel together and then eating fair food until they felt sick. Kevin liked to imagine that Mike would win him a giant teddy bear to top off the day, but he was willing to do without it.)
It sucked a lot. Kevin had had crushes before, but they usually either asked him out or weren’t remotely interested. He’d always assumed unrequited crushes were the worst, but now he thought it would be kind of comforting to know that Mike didn’t want him at all. It would be better than knowing that Mike probably wanted to have sex with him, but had no desire to spend any non-sex time in his presence.
Joe and Nick figured it out Kevin’s crush in less than a day and started making suggestions at random moments, determined to find the perfect plan to win his man. Kevin quashed Joe’s suggestion that Kevin ask Mike for investment advice (“No, really, Kev! I read in Cosmo that guys like to feel like you value their opinions.”). He also ignored Nick’s proposal of a flirty food fight (“It works in every movie I’ve ever seen. Especially if you use chocolate.”) Several days into their plotting spree, Kevin found himself rousted out of the shower by shouting, only to find that it was Nick having an epiphany in the kitchen.
"You should bake for him!" Nick said. His face was bright with inspiration, and it still made Kevin's heart clench, knowing that his brothers accepted him this much and wanted him to be happy. "The way to a man's heart, right?"
Kevin clutched his towel tight around his waist. He was dripping all over the linoleum. "Nick. I can't cook."
"Nick could bake for you," Joe suggested. He was sitting at the kitchen table eating a giant bowl of cereal. "And then you could just," he waved his spoon, "pass the food along."
"I refuse to try to catch a man with food my brother made," Kevin said firmly. "Now can I finish my shower?"
Nick made a shooing motion with his hands. "I still say it's a good idea," he told Kevin's retreating back.
It was a good idea, especially compared to most of their suggestions, so Kevin modified it and made it his own. He couldn't cook, but he could make a damned good cup of coffee. The next time Mike came into the shop, Kevin greeted him with a smile (not his 'at work' smile) and a specially mixed drink.
"Hi!" Kevin said. "Wanna be my guinea pig?"
Mike looked a little bemused, but he accepted the cup. "You didn't spit in this, right?"
Kevin's face fell. "No."
“Kevin is made out of sweetness and light,” Jon said, leaning over Kevin’s shoulder to mock-frown at Mike. “How dare you accuse him of such a thing?” Kevin loved his friends.
The corner of Mike’s mouth flickered up. “If he’s that awesome, he’s probably pretty forgiving,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee and smiled right at Kevin. Kevin was suddenly grateful for Jon’s weight against his back, holding him up. “Okay, you are that awesome,” Mike told Kevin. “I take back everything I’ve said about your hair.”
Kevin’s hands flew to his head. “You’ve,” he blinked a few times, “you’ve been talking to people about my hair?” Jon stepped away, and Kevin thought he heard him stifling laughter in the corner.
Mike suddenly looked fascinated by his coffee. “Well, y’know. Sometimes hair comes up in conversation.”
Kevin’s brow wrinkled. “If you say so.” He waited for Mike to explain or to say something else about his delicious coffee drink (which Kevin had created with only minor input from Jon about what flavors Mike liked), or something, but Mike just stood there, sipping and occasionally glancing expectantly at Kevin.
“I guess I’ll talk to you later,” Mike finally said.
“Yeah, okay.” Kevin picked up a rag and started diligently wiping the counter, like he was eager to get back to work. “Later.” He kept wiping the counter until he heard the door close behind Mike. Then he threw it down with a wet splat. Times like this, he really wished he cussed.
“You didn’t ask him out,” Jon said. He was still lurking in the corner, and really? Was that what managers did all day, stand around and mock their employees’ love lives? Because maybe Kevin wouldn’t mind being trapped in the coffee shop industry by his pathetic degree if he could get in on that.
Kevin was deeply disappointed to find out that Jon hadn’t been ignorant of the whole debacle. “I’m not going to ask him out until I know he wants to date me,” he said stubbornly, picking up the rag again. It was cold and squishy in his hand; he wondered if it would be melodramatic to compare it to Mike’s cold, unfeeling heart.
“Kevin. Kev. Mike never comes in here.”
Kevin stared at Jon, baffled. “Yes, he does! He’s been in here, like, every day for two weeks.”
Jon smiled at him. Kevin had always thought Jon had a nice, easygoing smile, but now he saw that it was made of pure evil. “Yes, every day since he saw you at the counter.”
Kevin stared. “So,” he said, his voice sticking in his throat, “So, you think if I asked him out, he’d say yes?”
“I think he stood here like a moron, waiting for you to ask him out,” Jon told him. “So, yeah, that’s a good sign.”
“Okay.” His head felt swimmy. “Okay.” He breathed for a moment. “Are you sure? I mean, he never asked me out, either.”
Jon ducked his head. “He might have heard a rumor that you were going to ask him.” Kevin was going to kill Brendon dead. They would never find the body. (Kevin planned to call Frankie for advice when he got to the body-hiding part, because Frank was the hands-down Jonas family hide-and-seek champion.)
“So, he’s been in here every day, what? Giving me the opportunity?” Kevin asked skeptically.
Jon shrugged. “It’s not like he told me, or anything, but that’s my guess.” He looked sheepish. “I can ask him if you want …” Kevin shook his head frantically. “Oh, thank God. Last time Mike thought I was interfering in his love life, he told Cassie, and she made me read advice columns for a month. To get it out of my system, she said.”
“No, it’s fine,” Kevin said. “It’s totally fine. I’ll just,” he sighed. “I’ll just ask him.”
It should have been a huge relief, Jon’s reassurance that Mike seemed to like him. Like him, as more than just some guy he thought was hot. And it was a relief, but it was mixed with a load of expectation. Virtually every person he knew (except for his parents) was watching and waiting for Kevin to man up and ask Mike out. If he got shot down, it was going to be humiliating. And since he’d gone to college and gotten away from the kids who used to stuff him into dumpsters, Kevin’s tolerance for humiliation had gone way down.
The weight of it pressed down on Kevin all night. He felt it as he ate dinner, watching Nick and Joe argue over whether or not mimes were legitimate actors. What if Mike didn’t get along with his brothers? Nick was heading home for his senior year soon, but Joe lived here. Lying in bed that night, Kevin stared up at the ceiling and wondered what he would do if Mike turned out to be the kind of guy who hated Ferris wheels.
He got dressed in the morning with shaking hands and walked to work slowly. He was working the counter today, and his eyes flew to the door every time it opened. The morning rush was a whole different kind of torture today, adding a frothy dollop of anxiety to the usual frantic push to get coffee in the hands of the caffeine-deprived.
Mike finally came in a little after eleven, and Kevin’s knees shook. He’d always thought that was a figure of speech, and it was distressing to learn otherwise while Spencer and Brendon were staring at him and offering not-so-discreet thumbs-ups.
“Hey.” Mike nodded. “Do you have anything for me to guinea pig today, or am I paying for my drink?”
“Oh. No, I. Sorry.” Kevin wondered if anyone would notice if he quietly ducked below the counter and died.
Mike nodded. “Okay. I’ll have-“
“Do you want to go out with me?” Kevin interrupted. The more he thought about it, the better the dying-under-the-counter plan sounded. Mike paused, his mouth still open, and Kevin fidgeted. “Or not. I could also just get you a coffee,” Kevin offered.
“No. I mean, yes. Coffee is good. And yes, we should go out.”
“Yes?” Kevin repeated. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Mike replied warily. “Was that not the right answer?” His brow was furrowed, and it made him look scowly and grumpy. It reminded Kevin of the first time he’d seen him.
"It’s a good answer,” Kevin said, nodding fervently because he was a complete idiot. “Just, um. I like my brothers a lot. So if you hate them, that’s going to be a problem. And I sing in the shower and car, and I buy shoes even when I don’t need them.”
He might have kept going, but Mike leaned forward and brushed a hand down his arm. It wasn’t the first time they’d touched, but Kevin thought it might have been the first time Mike had touched him. “All of my t-shirts are torn,” he said. “And I use up all the hot water taking baths even when other people need to take a shower. And I smoke.”
Kevin swallowed. “Oh.”
“We’ll give it a try,” Mike said. “And if we hate each other, then we’ll deal with it.” He smiled at Kevin, and it was even better than his usual smile. It was wide and bright and happy, like the one that always made Kevin weak, but it was also full of promise. “I don’t think I’m going to hate you.”
Kevin grinned dopily back and pretended not to see his co-workers beaming at them. “Awesome,” he said. “How do you feel about Ferris wheels?”
The End
Author: allyndra
Recipient: eleawynn@gmail.com
Prompt: I would like I would like to see either a seductive Kevin fic, where he uses his wiles to get Mike or something fluffy and romantic, maybe even a coffeeshop AU. So a few options, but anything else you want to write would be fine as long as it doesn't dip into noncon. Also sidepairings are lovely, I especially like Bill/Nick. Any rating.
Word Count: 4,510
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kevin's going to ask Mike out. Really, any day now. Coffee shop AU.
Author's Note: Almost a month late; I cannot apologize enough.
Kevin had been pulling espressos all morning, and it had to stop. His arm was going numb, he had espresso grounds all over the front of his apron, and the steam from the cappuccinos had taken his hair from curl to frizz.
“Jon,” he said plaintively. He could do plaintive well. It was better when he backed up the tone of voice with puppy eyes, but since Jon was out of sight behind the bakery case, Kevin had to make do. “Jon, you love me, right?”
“More than daisies,” Jon replied. Kevin spent a moment trying to remember how much Jon liked daisies.
“Is that enough to move me to another station? I’ll do anything. I’ll do register,” he said desperately. “But I’ve made five million drinks so far today, and I’m about to die.”
Jon popped out from behind the bakery case, and Kevin seized his chance, unleashing the full might of his puppy eyes upon him. Jon just smirked, and Kevin felt a sudden, terrible doubt. Maybe puppy eyes only worked on his mom. That would suck. Kevin knew his own strengths, and, frankly, he didn’t have many others to fall back on.
Then Jon held his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. Geez, make sure you only use your powers for good.” He called back over his shoulder, “Hey, Brendon, trade out with Jonas.”
Kevin did a little skip as he moved to take over the register. Brendon gave him a complicated high five as he passed and said, “Better you than me. People are grumpy today.”
Kevin massaged his tired arm. He could deal with grumpy.
There was already someone waiting for him when he slid behind the register. Kevin swiped a hand down his speckled apron and put on his best ‘at work’ smile. “What can I get for you today?”
It turned out, Brendon hadn’t been joking about the grumpy people. Kevin had never received more surly looks or fewer tips. He smiled determinedly on, but it was getting harder with every sharp word and irritated glare.
The last customer before Kevin’s shift ended looked just as pissed off as the five before him. Possibly more pissed off, because his face seemed to have been designed especially for scowling. Kevin swallowed and said, “What can I get for you today?” His voice sounded weak in his own ears, which was pretty pathetic. What kind of person didn’t have the emotional fortitude to work in a coffee shop?
The man’s eyes flicked dismissively over Kevin. “You can get me the manager.”
“Um.” Kevin hadn’t even had a chance to screw up his order yet. “Manager?”
“Maybe you’ve heard the word before?” the guy said sarcastically. “A person in charge, usually more competent than the average employee.” His eyes sharpened on Kevin’s face. “Although that’s not always much of an accomplishment.”
Kevin flushed red and was very grateful that no one was in line behind this man. Being insulted in front of people was worse than being insulted alone. He leaned away from the counter to call back into the kitchen, “Jon.” Turning back to the customer, he said, “I’m sure he’ll be right out.” And then he had to stand there like a moron while he waited for Jon, staring down at the counter and up at the ceiling. It was pure, perverse chance (since he’d been making a point of not looking at the customer) that he saw the guy’s face break into a beaming smile when Jon came up behind Kevin.
Wow. Okay, Kevin was clearly, clearly wrong about the scowling thing, because this man’s face was made for smiling. The breath actually, physically caught in Kevin’s throat at the sight, and he hadn’t thought that was possible outside of a heavy exercise. He reminded himself firmly that the man was a jerk.
“Mike!” Jon looked like he wanted to jump the counter, but there were still other customers in the store, so he just leaned forward and gave the man a back-slapping half-hug. “I was starting to thing you were imaginary, man.”
The guy, Mike, laughed. “How the fuck would I be imaginary?”
“Well, Bill talks about you, but I never see you around anymore.” He glared when Mike kept laughing. “F- Shut up, it makes complete sense.”
“Sure, when you’re high,” Mike agreed. Jon flushed under his beard, and Kevin bit his lip to keep from laughing at him, too. Not that he had a problem with laughing at Jon, just at horning in on someone else’s conversation.
Brendon rescued him by saying, “Hey, Spencer’s here to take register, but there’s no room for him up there. One of you has to move.”
“Me!” Kevin said, shooting his hand in the air. Okay, maybe there was no way to rescue him from himself. He ducked around Jon, still blushing red, and then around Spencer, who was standing with his arms crossed, waiting for Kevin to get out of his way.
Luckily, Brendon followed him into the tiny break room when Kevin went to grab his stuff. “So, day from hell or what?” Brendon asked, leaning against the wall and kicking one heel back to thud in a dull rhythm.
“Day from hell,” Kevin agreed. He opened his locker and pulled out his slightly smooshed backpack. “Is there something in the air?”
“Asshole smog,” Brendon suggested. Kevin stopped and stared at him. Brendon tilted his head, like he’d just realized what he’d said, a grin starting small at the corners of his mouth and growing to take over his whole face. They burst out laughing at the same time.
“That’s what,” Kevin gasped, “That’s what Joe gets when he eats Nick’s chili.”
Brendon had his hands spread on either side of him, palms flat against the wall like he was holding himself up. “That’s what everyone gets when they eat Nick’s chili,” he said.
Kevin’s face hurt from laughing and his stomach muscles were sore. It shouldn’t be that funny, but it really, really was. “Dude,” he said. “I am so glad I know you.”
Brendon stopped laughing and gave Kevin a fond smile. “That’s because I’m awesome,” he said. Kevin just nodded. He closed his locker and slung his backpack over his shoulder, motioning for Brendon to lead the way. They passed Jon and Mike just outside the door, and Kevin didn’t even flinch when he saw that Mike’s face was settled back into a scowl.
***
Brendon always said he exaggerated, but Kevin was pretty sure he would have curled up and died his first semester away from home if the two of them hadn’t met. He’d been homesick and lonely, missing his parents and brothers and even the church so much he could barely function. Brendon had been in his eight am history class, and he’d been just as lost. Their professor had offered an optional study session, and Brendon and Kevin were the only students lame enough to show up for it. Instead of talking about fin de siècle technology, they’d talked about how many times they had missed Family Game Night since they’d left home. After that, they didn’t even pretend to study when they met up.
They’d dated at the end of their freshman year, and Kevin thought it was sort of perfect. Not the relationship (which was doomed from the start), but working out his issues with someone who understood. They’d had awkward, inexperienced sex and buoyant, loud singalongs. Two years after they’d stopped having the sex, they still had the singalongs.
***
Joe had followed Kevin to college when he’d graduated, and they’d gotten an apartment together. With Nick visiting for the summer, it was a little crowded, and Kevin found himself hanging out at the coffee shop even when he wasn’t working, just to get out. During the semester, he brought his homework along, but today he just had the newspaper crossword puzzle. He’d had to sneak it out of the apartment under his shirt, because Joe was some kind of crossword savant. He would do the entire puzzle in ink, without looking anything up. It was unnatural.
Kevin claimed the table in the back corner of the coffee shop and settled in with his crossword and a raspberry steamer. (Despite loving the smell of coffee, he’d never actually learned to handle the taste or the caffeine. Everyone he worked with found this hilarious.) He’d only completed a few clues when someone pulled out the chair across from him.
“Hey.” It was Jon’s friend Mike, from yesterday. He wasn’t scowling today, but he wasn’t smiling at Kevin like he had at Jon, either. Kevin told himself that was okay. He didn’t need to see that smile again, anyway.
“Hey,” Kevin replied, waving his pencil a little in greeting. Apparently, that was enough for Mike to feel welcomed, because he sat down and leaned forward across the table.
“Hey, I wanted to apologize for being a dick yesterday.”
Kevin blinked at him. “Okay.” He traced the eraser of his pencil over the table, leaving pale, dull marks on the shiny surface. “Everyone has a bad day sometimes.”
Mike smiled, and Kevin swallowed hard. “Naw, I wasn’t even having a bad day. Partly I’m just a dick sometimes, but partly I get a kick out of hassling Jon’s employees. I mean, Jon as a manager will never stop being funny. I’ve known him since we were kids.”
Kevin cocked his head, trying to imagine Brendon or Joe in a position of power someday. (Nick, he could actually picture in a management position right now.)Yeah, it would be funny, but Kevin didn’t think he would need to harass the innocent people who worked for him. Also, “Jon’s a really good manager, though,” he pointed out loyally. He tried really hard to work around everyone’s class schedules, he gave them leftover baked goods at the end of shift, and he’d once gotten in a whipped cream eating contest with Spencer that had left both of them looking like Santa Claus. He was a fantastic manager.
Mike nodded equably. “Still funny,” he said.
Kevin shrugged and looked down at his crossword. He filled in “Hare” and took a sip of his steamer. When he looked back up, Mike was watching him. It was unsettling. For one thing, Kevin had assumed (not that he’d been thinking about it, really) that Mike’s eyes were dark, probably brown. Up close, though, they were light and sort of greenish, and they felt like they were looking into Kevin’s soul. (Which meant that Nick was probably going to give Kevin another lecture soon about controlling his imagination.) Regardless of their possible soul-looking powers, Kevin found himself staring into Mike’s eyes for probably way too long.
Then Mike blinked, and Kevin looked away. “Austin,” Mike said.
Kevin frowned. “What?”
“For five across. ‘Powers or Texas.’ Austin.”
“Right.” Kevin wrote the answer in. He looked at the rest of the puzzle, tapping his pencil eraser against his lower lip thoughtfully, then raised his eyebrows at Mike expectantly. “Wanna do the crossword puzzle with me?”
And Mike … Mike was staring at the pencil. More precisely, he was staring at Kevin’s mouth and the pencil eraser still touching it. Kevin lowered his hand, and Mike’s eyes stayed on his lips instead of following the pencil. Tentatively, Kevin licked his lips, and yeah. Mike was definitely watching.
Kevin nudged the paper toward him. “Crossword?”
“Yeah,” Mike said, finally looking away from Kevin’s mouth. “Absolutely. Let me see the clues.”
It took them over an hour to finish the puzzle, and Kevin was aware of it every time Mike’s hand brushed his, pointing out a clue. He was also aware that Brendon was lurking in the dining room watching them for a good chunk of that hour. When Kevin triumphantly folded up the paper, Mike sat back and gave him a considering look. Kevin waited, but Mike just stood up after a minute and said, “Anyway. I’ll catch you later.”
Kevin nodded. “Sure. Bye.” He watched Mike walk out the door, feeling a little cheated. Shouldn’t something more have happened?
Brendon, who had been refilling the napkin dispensers unnecessarily for the past ten minutes, crossed the room as soon as the door closed behind Mike, sitting in the empty chair. “So,” he said brightly, “Mike thinks you’re hot.”
Kevin blushed. “No accounting for taste,” he mumbled. And then, “Hey!” because Brendon had reached across the table to smack him upside the head.
“Mike thinks you’re hot,” Brendon repeated, his voice and face stern.
Kevin wrinkled his nose but dutifully said, “Nothing wrong with his eyes, then.”
Brendon smiled. “That’s better. So …” He waggled his eyebrows.
Kevin looked down. He twisted the paper into a tight, crumpled mess. “I think he’s kind of hot, too.”
“Really?” Brendon sounded so skeptical that Kevin was offended on Mike’s behalf. He glared, and Brendon said, “Sorry, sorry. He’s just not my type.” This was true. Brendon’s type was extremely pretty, which, in retrospect, was a huge boost to Kevin’s ego. “What are you going to do about it?”
Kevin considered it for a long moment. “I think I’m going to ask him out,” he finally replied.
“For real? When?” Brendon could be excused for looking skeptical this time, because Kevin was notorious for backing out of these things. But this time, he promised himself, would be different.
“When I’m sure he wants to go out with me.”
“Kevin.” Brendon gave him a pitying look, like he was exceptionally slow and maybe needed help getting his shoes tied. “I’m pretty sure he wanted to drag you into the bathroom about five minutes after he sat down.”
“Oh, my -” Kevin was aghast. “I know every single person who has to clean that bathroom,” he protested.
Brendon laughed. “Not the bathroom, then. But the point remains: He’s hot for your pale little bod. What’s with the waiting?”
Kevin twisted the newspaper a little tighter. “Okay, so he maybe wants to hook up with me right now.” He thought about the way Mike watched his mouth and mentally changed the ‘maybe’ to a ‘probably.’ “But I don’t know if he wants to date me. And that’s what I want. So, waiting.”
Brendon nodded solemnly. He’d been around for the tragic aftermath of Kevin’s last attempt at sleeping with guys without dating them. It hadn’t been pretty. Kevin (both he and Brendon, really) had been working very hard to overcome the notion that sex was dirty and wrong and that gay sex was extra dirty and wrong. It had been mostly successful, but when Kevin just tried to hook up without a deeper connection … well, the shame spiral had eaten most of Spring Break.
“He’d have to be an idiot not to want to date you,” Brendon said staunchly. “Just be yourself.”
“Right. Be myself.” Kevin sighed. The problem was, himself was super lame. He was majoring in English, which meant he was probably going to work in this coffee shop until he died, he wasn’t out to his parents, and he still had his entire childhood stuffed animal collection.
“Brendon,” Jon called, leaning forward over the counter so he could see into their corner of the shop. “Are we taking a break?”
Brendon blinked at him innocently. “We are offering exceptional service by making our customers feel valued.”
“I’m pretty sure Kevin already knows we value him,” Jon said. “Come clean out the cooler.”
Brendon got reluctantly to his feet. “It’s going to be awesome,” he said. He stooped over to hug Kevin around the shoulders and added, “And next time I get a crush, you owe me so much BFF supportiveness."
***
Kevin's wooing of Mike was possibly the worst kept secret off all time. Brendon swore he didn't tell anyone, but Spencer and Greta and everyone else at the coffee shop knew. Greta thought it was adorable, and Spencer just thought it was a good reason to laugh at Kevin. Despite the fact that he kept catching Jon looking at him with an expression of deep amusement, Kevin chose to believe that Jon's silence on the subject meant that he was unaware.
Mike ... Mike seemed completely ignorant of Kevin's intentions. Kevin pulled out his best moves; he wore the black shirt that made his neck look long and (allegedly) bitable, he drank foamy drinks so he would have an excuse to lick his lips, he let his hand rest casually on Mike's arm when he talked to him. Nothing. Sometimes Mike gave him the 'hot sex in the bathroom' look, but he never looked like he was considering where to take Kevin for the perfect date. (For the record, that would be riding the Ferris wheel together and then eating fair food until they felt sick. Kevin liked to imagine that Mike would win him a giant teddy bear to top off the day, but he was willing to do without it.)
It sucked a lot. Kevin had had crushes before, but they usually either asked him out or weren’t remotely interested. He’d always assumed unrequited crushes were the worst, but now he thought it would be kind of comforting to know that Mike didn’t want him at all. It would be better than knowing that Mike probably wanted to have sex with him, but had no desire to spend any non-sex time in his presence.
Joe and Nick figured it out Kevin’s crush in less than a day and started making suggestions at random moments, determined to find the perfect plan to win his man. Kevin quashed Joe’s suggestion that Kevin ask Mike for investment advice (“No, really, Kev! I read in Cosmo that guys like to feel like you value their opinions.”). He also ignored Nick’s proposal of a flirty food fight (“It works in every movie I’ve ever seen. Especially if you use chocolate.”) Several days into their plotting spree, Kevin found himself rousted out of the shower by shouting, only to find that it was Nick having an epiphany in the kitchen.
"You should bake for him!" Nick said. His face was bright with inspiration, and it still made Kevin's heart clench, knowing that his brothers accepted him this much and wanted him to be happy. "The way to a man's heart, right?"
Kevin clutched his towel tight around his waist. He was dripping all over the linoleum. "Nick. I can't cook."
"Nick could bake for you," Joe suggested. He was sitting at the kitchen table eating a giant bowl of cereal. "And then you could just," he waved his spoon, "pass the food along."
"I refuse to try to catch a man with food my brother made," Kevin said firmly. "Now can I finish my shower?"
Nick made a shooing motion with his hands. "I still say it's a good idea," he told Kevin's retreating back.
It was a good idea, especially compared to most of their suggestions, so Kevin modified it and made it his own. He couldn't cook, but he could make a damned good cup of coffee. The next time Mike came into the shop, Kevin greeted him with a smile (not his 'at work' smile) and a specially mixed drink.
"Hi!" Kevin said. "Wanna be my guinea pig?"
Mike looked a little bemused, but he accepted the cup. "You didn't spit in this, right?"
Kevin's face fell. "No."
“Kevin is made out of sweetness and light,” Jon said, leaning over Kevin’s shoulder to mock-frown at Mike. “How dare you accuse him of such a thing?” Kevin loved his friends.
The corner of Mike’s mouth flickered up. “If he’s that awesome, he’s probably pretty forgiving,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee and smiled right at Kevin. Kevin was suddenly grateful for Jon’s weight against his back, holding him up. “Okay, you are that awesome,” Mike told Kevin. “I take back everything I’ve said about your hair.”
Kevin’s hands flew to his head. “You’ve,” he blinked a few times, “you’ve been talking to people about my hair?” Jon stepped away, and Kevin thought he heard him stifling laughter in the corner.
Mike suddenly looked fascinated by his coffee. “Well, y’know. Sometimes hair comes up in conversation.”
Kevin’s brow wrinkled. “If you say so.” He waited for Mike to explain or to say something else about his delicious coffee drink (which Kevin had created with only minor input from Jon about what flavors Mike liked), or something, but Mike just stood there, sipping and occasionally glancing expectantly at Kevin.
“I guess I’ll talk to you later,” Mike finally said.
“Yeah, okay.” Kevin picked up a rag and started diligently wiping the counter, like he was eager to get back to work. “Later.” He kept wiping the counter until he heard the door close behind Mike. Then he threw it down with a wet splat. Times like this, he really wished he cussed.
“You didn’t ask him out,” Jon said. He was still lurking in the corner, and really? Was that what managers did all day, stand around and mock their employees’ love lives? Because maybe Kevin wouldn’t mind being trapped in the coffee shop industry by his pathetic degree if he could get in on that.
Kevin was deeply disappointed to find out that Jon hadn’t been ignorant of the whole debacle. “I’m not going to ask him out until I know he wants to date me,” he said stubbornly, picking up the rag again. It was cold and squishy in his hand; he wondered if it would be melodramatic to compare it to Mike’s cold, unfeeling heart.
“Kevin. Kev. Mike never comes in here.”
Kevin stared at Jon, baffled. “Yes, he does! He’s been in here, like, every day for two weeks.”
Jon smiled at him. Kevin had always thought Jon had a nice, easygoing smile, but now he saw that it was made of pure evil. “Yes, every day since he saw you at the counter.”
Kevin stared. “So,” he said, his voice sticking in his throat, “So, you think if I asked him out, he’d say yes?”
“I think he stood here like a moron, waiting for you to ask him out,” Jon told him. “So, yeah, that’s a good sign.”
“Okay.” His head felt swimmy. “Okay.” He breathed for a moment. “Are you sure? I mean, he never asked me out, either.”
Jon ducked his head. “He might have heard a rumor that you were going to ask him.” Kevin was going to kill Brendon dead. They would never find the body. (Kevin planned to call Frankie for advice when he got to the body-hiding part, because Frank was the hands-down Jonas family hide-and-seek champion.)
“So, he’s been in here every day, what? Giving me the opportunity?” Kevin asked skeptically.
Jon shrugged. “It’s not like he told me, or anything, but that’s my guess.” He looked sheepish. “I can ask him if you want …” Kevin shook his head frantically. “Oh, thank God. Last time Mike thought I was interfering in his love life, he told Cassie, and she made me read advice columns for a month. To get it out of my system, she said.”
“No, it’s fine,” Kevin said. “It’s totally fine. I’ll just,” he sighed. “I’ll just ask him.”
It should have been a huge relief, Jon’s reassurance that Mike seemed to like him. Like him, as more than just some guy he thought was hot. And it was a relief, but it was mixed with a load of expectation. Virtually every person he knew (except for his parents) was watching and waiting for Kevin to man up and ask Mike out. If he got shot down, it was going to be humiliating. And since he’d gone to college and gotten away from the kids who used to stuff him into dumpsters, Kevin’s tolerance for humiliation had gone way down.
The weight of it pressed down on Kevin all night. He felt it as he ate dinner, watching Nick and Joe argue over whether or not mimes were legitimate actors. What if Mike didn’t get along with his brothers? Nick was heading home for his senior year soon, but Joe lived here. Lying in bed that night, Kevin stared up at the ceiling and wondered what he would do if Mike turned out to be the kind of guy who hated Ferris wheels.
He got dressed in the morning with shaking hands and walked to work slowly. He was working the counter today, and his eyes flew to the door every time it opened. The morning rush was a whole different kind of torture today, adding a frothy dollop of anxiety to the usual frantic push to get coffee in the hands of the caffeine-deprived.
Mike finally came in a little after eleven, and Kevin’s knees shook. He’d always thought that was a figure of speech, and it was distressing to learn otherwise while Spencer and Brendon were staring at him and offering not-so-discreet thumbs-ups.
“Hey.” Mike nodded. “Do you have anything for me to guinea pig today, or am I paying for my drink?”
“Oh. No, I. Sorry.” Kevin wondered if anyone would notice if he quietly ducked below the counter and died.
Mike nodded. “Okay. I’ll have-“
“Do you want to go out with me?” Kevin interrupted. The more he thought about it, the better the dying-under-the-counter plan sounded. Mike paused, his mouth still open, and Kevin fidgeted. “Or not. I could also just get you a coffee,” Kevin offered.
“No. I mean, yes. Coffee is good. And yes, we should go out.”
“Yes?” Kevin repeated. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Mike replied warily. “Was that not the right answer?” His brow was furrowed, and it made him look scowly and grumpy. It reminded Kevin of the first time he’d seen him.
"It’s a good answer,” Kevin said, nodding fervently because he was a complete idiot. “Just, um. I like my brothers a lot. So if you hate them, that’s going to be a problem. And I sing in the shower and car, and I buy shoes even when I don’t need them.”
He might have kept going, but Mike leaned forward and brushed a hand down his arm. It wasn’t the first time they’d touched, but Kevin thought it might have been the first time Mike had touched him. “All of my t-shirts are torn,” he said. “And I use up all the hot water taking baths even when other people need to take a shower. And I smoke.”
Kevin swallowed. “Oh.”
“We’ll give it a try,” Mike said. “And if we hate each other, then we’ll deal with it.” He smiled at Kevin, and it was even better than his usual smile. It was wide and bright and happy, like the one that always made Kevin weak, but it was also full of promise. “I don’t think I’m going to hate you.”
Kevin grinned dopily back and pretended not to see his co-workers beaming at them. “Awesome,” he said. “How do you feel about Ferris wheels?”
The End