~1~

Pitchers in the sink, milk in the thermos, tongs with the bagels, toaster setting on... Keith began his day at the coffee shop like any other, expecting absolutely nothing interesting to happen. He was in the middle of a particularly deep sigh when the bell above the door rattled, and his first customer of the day walked in.

Though 'walked' was a bit of an overstatement; the guy 'ambled' in was more like it. He was brown, lanky, and very handsome. He was holding an artsy travel mug and wasn't even bothering to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It seemed like it would be a futile task anyway. Keith felt the beginnings of a smile growing on his face at the sight.

The man walked up and set the mug on the counter. "One large black coffee, no sugar," he ordered in a dead voice.

"That bad, huh?" asked Keith, grabbing a cup.

The guy smiled and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked up to meet Keith's eyes for the first time.

They're such a dark blue, noted Keith.

"Um, I have my own creamer." He indicated to his travel mug. "Just need the coffee."

Keith, an avid drinker of black coffee, smiled wistfully. Can't have everything in every cute boy. He reached for the mug. "I'll just pour it in here directly then."

"Yeah, why waste a paper cup." He nodded.

"What's your name?" Keith sprung the question as if he were a Starbucks barista.

"Lance."

"I'm Keith," he replied with a smirk, thinking that was pretty smooth. He waited for Lance to continue the conversation.

Lance ran a hand over the back of his neck, paid, and left with his coffee.

Keith leaned against the counter and watched him go.

~2~

Keith sliced a croissant and slipped it into the toaster, then hurried to brew the customer's tea. It was a busy morning at the cafe, which was why he didn't notice who was next in line.

When Black-Tea-and-Plain-Croissant stepped away, Lance approached the counter.

A fond smile grew on Keith's face seeing Lance look slightly more awake than last time. "What can I get you?"

"A small coffee with milk and sugar."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "No creamer today?"

Lance chuckled. "I ran out. So…" he trailed off.

When Lance lifted his hand, Keith saw he had the mug. Keith reached for it. "How many sugars?"

"Three."

The mug was even bigger than a large, and Lance had ordered a small coffee. In lieu of passing Lance his phone number on a napkin, which was what he really wanted to do, Keith filled the mug nearly to the brim with milky, sugary coffee. He slid it across the table and took Lance's payment, unsure if Lance would even get the message when he realized Keith had given him two coffees for the price of one.

Lance looked back right as Keith turned his attention to the next customer.

~3~

Sometimes Keith felt it was lucky that he could watch the giant wall clock from his spot behind the counter. Other times, he was sure it was a curse. Right now, he was ambivalent. On the one hand, he could see that he had exactly twenty-three minutes of his shift left; but on the other, watching the clock seemed to make each minute last twice as long as usual. He'd been on his feet almost non-stop for six hours, and the backs of his knees were really feeling it.

He glanced around at the few customers hanging out on the tables, drinking their evening coffee and catching up on work. He was about to scratch the incessant itch by looking at the clock again when the bell jingled and Lance walked in. Keith felt some of the fatigue in his body melt away.

Lance locked eyes with the remaining bagels in the rack—wrapped in plastic now that it was evening time—and smiled at them radiantly.

He looks even cuter when he's actually awake, Keith noted, internally scolding his gay heart to behave.

Lance picked up a pumpernickel and brought it to the counter. "Plain cream cheese on this please," he ordered, eyes glued to his wallet where he was digging for cash.

Keith, not one to let opportunity pass him by, bent his head a little to catch Lance's eye. "How are you?"

Lance finally looked up at the words with a surprised smile. "Good!"

Keith took the bagel and opened the plastic wrap, turning away from the counter and spreading a generous layer of cream cheese on it. He slipped a raspberry scone into a bag and put the bagel on top of it. When he passed it over, Lance was counting out some coins.

Keith had a idea. A smug look on his face, he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. "I can't wait to get off work." There was really only one logical follow-up question to a declaration like that, wasn't there?"

"When do you get off?"

There it was. Keith smirked. "At nine," he replied, tone as flirty as he could pull off with just two words.

"Almost there," Lance observed consolingly. "I just got off work too," he added. "I work late on weekends."

Keith groaned internally. He supposed it was time to accept defeat. Scoring a date with this guy did not seem very likely.

Lance infuriatingly picked up his breakfast-for-dinner, and grinned "Thanks, Keith."

He remembered my name.

Keith forgot to glance at the clock for a whole ten minutes.

~+1~

"We don't serve frappucinos, sir." Keith repeated himself as politely as he could without lashing out.

"That's ridiculous. This is a coffee shop isn't it? Go get your manager; I want to talk to him."

"She is not in today."

"When can I talk to the manager?" The customer was fully yelling by then.

"You can come back tomorrow morning around ten. That's when she gets in."

The man muttered to himself and threw Keith a dirty look as he left, sans-frappe.

Keith squeezed his eyes shut and screamed internally. He'd have to scream again into a pillow once he got home, but this would suffice for now.

So when the bell jingled to announce the next customer, and the door smashed open, Keith turned a death stare toward the door. He'd just had enough rude and entitled customers for one day. He wasn't about to be patient with another one.

But this wasn't another rude, entitled customer. It was a frazzled-looking Lance.

Lance scanned the small shop as if looking for someone, then his eyes landed on Keith. He hurried up to the counter, and Keith had the briefest moment to panic before Lance was practically shouting,

"HAVE YOU BEEN FLIRTING WITH ME THIS WHOLE TIME?"

Well that was an odd way to ask that, wasn't it? Keith figured he should face the music. "Yeah?..."

"Oh," replied Lance, suddenly quiet after the shouting a moment earlier. "I didn't realize," he murmured.

"Until now?" prompted Keith.

"I kind of wondered if you might've been when I saw the scone, but I thought you might've just given it away because it was almost closing time."

Keith snorted. "I gave you the last of the raspberry ones: my favorite."

"Oh." Color dusted Lance's cheeks. "So I was talking to my friend about this shop, and he started asking me about the other times I've been here. And when I thought about that extra coffee that time...I thought you made a mistake and accidentally gave me extra. I was vibrating all day!"

"Um, sorry. You didn't have to drink it all though if it was too much," Keith pointed out.

"Are you kidding? Delicious coffee made by a gorgeous barista? I wasn't about to throw that out!" Lance seemed to realize the implication of his words one second after they were out of his mouth, and his blush deepened.

"Gorgeous, huh?" Keith looked smug.

"Shut up! I mean, uh, do you want to go out for coffee sometime?"

"No." He paused for effect, enjoying the way Lance's eyes widened at the teasing. "I work in a coffee shop. I'll go out with you for anything but coffee."

Lance chuckled, relieved. "Cool. You get out at nine tonight too?"

"You remember," Keith noted, pleased.

Lance winked, and Keith's heart beat out an excited rhythm. "I'll pick you up then." He turned and left with a shy wave.

Keith glanced at the wall clock—3:30—and urged it to go faster.