[closed/active] When life gives you whipped cream in the face...

[godofcologne]

Characters: Thomas, Nic Feuilly
Time: Evening, sometime during the week
Location: Everyone's favourite coffee shop
Content: Thomas and Feuilly discover proper workplace behavior
Format: Whichever. Not picky.
Warnings: Pretty boys and whipped cream. Also possibly Tibet.

Comments

[vidate_ensenara]

It had been an uneventful first shift, and it wasn't as if he was new to working at a coffee shop. After an hour of getting the hang of things, he was easily running through orders and putting together twenty-seven syllable coffee drinks.

During the lull, he began cleaning the espresso machine, keeping an eye on Thomas and the whipped cream canister. Already, within a four-hour period, the other man had been on the receiving end of the canister's apparent hatred of him.

He raised an eyebrow when Thomas set the canister down, and the hissing began. "You might want to check that."

[godofcologne]

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Thomas replied, his attention obviously not on what he was doing and instead on a pretty dark-haired girl sitting in an armchair across the room. She looked up and blushed, and Thomas grinned, giving her a wave.

When she looked down again, Thomas turned to his new shift partner. "Did you say something, Nic?"

[vidate_ensenara]

Feuilly gave Thomas a long look and then nodded at the canister, reaching for it. "You might want to ch-"

Too late.

The hissing had abruptly grown louder and with a muted "bamf", the lid went flying off towards the bakery display and a spray of whipped cream erupted from the canister, covering both Thomas and Feuilly in a cloud of froth.

[godofcologne]

'Oops' had stopped being a viable reaction to the whipped cream canister about two weeks ago, and Thomas had taken to suffering in silence, with an occasional 'I meant to do that' if the customer watching was particularly cute. But that had been single shots. This time it was the entire canister, and that sort of attack just couldn't go by without a response.

"Empty night!" Thomas swore, reaching up to wipe the whipped cream from his face. Normally it would have worked but this time it just seemed to make the mess worse, smearing whipped cream into his hair. "That's IT, I am never making another mocha a--" He managed to blink the cursed stuff out of his eyes, only to be greeted with the sight of Feuilly, similarly covered. For a second there was silence, then Thomas promptly cracked up.