Warnings: Manga characters not yet in the anime appear. Also, minor characters who I have a huge bias for. Terribly inaccurate coffee-making. Possible OOC-ness. Boys being stupid. Lots of cussing. From people who've kindly read and commented, they say there're tons of secondhand embarrassment. You have been warned.

Disclaimers: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin. The steps to making coffee have been found through WikiHow. Nor do I own the initial idea. For the initial idea, I thank the OP of the SnK kink meme prompt, as well as Marcobutt and Terriblyfaggy on Tumblr for the description, set-up, conversation, and comic that have been the inspiration of this first chapter (marcobutt. tumblr post/57805273902/scentless-adult-modern-barista-au -marco-is-ordering).

I hope you enjoy!

Step One: Gather Your French Press and Ingredients

He had memorized the guy's coffee order.

Eren rolls his eyes whenever Jean says this, because a customer coming here for the first time and ordering once doesn't mean Jean can memorize anything. Jean flips him off and sighs at the way the guy's lips and tongue had rolled over that one word, Jean's favourite word in the world now. Cappuccino. Jean thinks it might not be too late if he starts now and drinks cappuccinos for the rest of his life.

"You're an idiot, Kirschtein," Eren declares for the fifth time that day.

"Can it, Jaegar," Jean snaps. At least, he had meant to snap, but it comes out as some sort of half sigh. Jean is magnanimous though, because his co-worker, with his messy hair and glaring eyes and eternal frown, couldn't possess a single romantic bone in his body. Of course he doesn't. Just look at the coffee he drinks. What sort of freak can down a triple espresso and still sleep at night? Freak.

Marco, on the other hand. Jean knows him well, because he had stared at the guy during the whole five minutes he had been here. With his intent focus on his book, and those freckles on his high cheekbones standing out in their well-lit café. Jean imagines the way he will sip his coffee and leave a foam moustache he isn't aware of and that Jean will ache to wipe off with his thumb, or lick off –

Eren snaps his fingers in front of Jean's face and makes an impatient noise. Unromantic, and rude to boot. Jean scowls and says, "What?"

"In case you've forgotten, we're at work," Eren says with a huff, one hand planted on his hip. It makes him look like a girl – Jean thinks of pointing it out, but that will end in a brawl, which is not good for work, so he reminds himself of his magnanimity and refrains. Besides, what if the Marco guy comes in and sees them fighting? All hopes of getting his number will be dashed.

The bell above the door rings, as though the gods above – or maybe just their boss – have sensed the impending fight. Eren turns to say a professional "Welcome to Wings."

Home to Heavenly Coffee, Jean thinks, sarcastic tone and all. He turns around as well.

And has to duck beneath the counter immediately.

Eren looks at him with an expression that says, without words, What the fuck now, Kirschtein? Though the small smile tugging at his lips means the fucker knows exactly why Jean is hiding under the counter, only the top half of his head visible because he needs to see this. Because none other than Marco not-Polo had walked through the doors and is looking for a good seat. He is looking for a seat. He's not going to order take-away coffee, at least for a while, and Jean will be free to stare at him.

"Oh god, that's him," he whimpers. "What if he remembers me? That's going to be so embarrassing."

"You're already an embarrassment, what's the difference?" Eren says, sounding distracted. "Is he not gonna order a drink? He's just gonna freeload off our wi-fi?"

"Stop being an asshole, Jaegar," Jean says, as distracted as Eren is, because Marco had decided on a bar-top seat by the window which has a convenient charging point, and when he hops into his seat Jean decides the guy has a very fine ass.

He would have been contented to hide behind the counter forever, but Eren whacks the top of his head with an oven mitt and barks at him to get up, a gaggle of girls is heading their way, which means they'll need to actually make coffee soon. Seeing the girls Eren had mentioned – giggly and frilly and with too much make-up – Jean knows it'll be four frappuccinos of varying tastes.

"How may I help you?" Eren asks with a smile. Jean has to admire how Eren is able to smile like he's not some criminally insane guy obsessed with antagonizing Jean. He's such a professional liar.

The girls giggle – do they never stop giggling? It's distracting him from studying the way sunlight hits Marco's hair – and one of them twirls their hair around a finger. Eren's smile does not wavers. "Two mocha frappuccinos, and two green tea frappuccinos, please. Size tall."

Something above Eren's left eye twitches. "We do not carry that size, miss."

"Oh!" A hand flies to her mouth and the rest giggle even more, though one of them has the good grace to hide her face with a hand, as though in embarrassment. "What was I thinking? I meant, small, please."

Eren nods and keys in the order. "And your name?"

The girl leans forward, resting against the counter and emphasizing her generous breasts. "Jenny," she says in a breathy voice. "Do you need my number too?"

Jean almost has to laugh at the way Eren leans back subtly. "Your name will be enough, Miss…Jenny. We'll call you when your order's ready. That'll be 16.80, please."

She pouts. Jean thinks, it's always Eren, the bastard. Because when he had written a huge fat "POLO" on Marco's cup, Eren had groaned and Marco had taken his drink and left without a word. And what did Eren do? Zero flirtation skills and he still manages to get the girls gagging for him.

Well, no matter. Because he's sure Marco had given him a smile when he left the café. A small one. Miniscule, really. Maybe just a twitch in facial muscles, but still. Score one for Jean Kirschtein. He stares dreamily in Marco's direction, where he's sure the sunlight has formed a small halo above the guy's head.

"You've heard the order," Eren says, kicking Jean in the side none-too-gently. "We've got some frappuccinos to make. Quit staring. It's fucking creepy."

He sniffs and draws himself up to his full height. "I'm not staring. I'm being observant." Still he spoons out good, ground coffee, not the instant shit that other brand name chain stores are using, while Eren does the same with premium matcha imported from Kyoto. Wings is one of its kind, with genuinely awesome coffee and, to top it all off, angelic customers that have kissable freckles and charming smiles. Jean's only complaint is his co-worker, though he has to admit that Eren Jaegar whips up a mean coffee, always fragrant and just sweet enough.

Eren glances at the thermometer in the hot water and gives an approving nod at the temperature, pours the liquid into two containers for Jean and him. Jean grabs two blenders and a tray of ice cubes, catches the milk carton from Eren and whisks it into the mixture that will soon become mocha. Eren had even dug the chocolate syrup out of the fridge and placed it by his hand.

He might hate the bastard, but Jean has to agree that they work well together.

The sound of the blenders whirring away almost distracts him from the fact that Marco had left his seat to approach the counter. And before he could do anything Eren had grabbed Jean's hand, placed it on top of the blender with green tea in it, and left to get Marco's order.

Scratch the bit about working well together. Jean well and truly hates the bastard.

He stops the blender when the drinks are at the right consistency. Jean pretends to be concentrating on pouring the mixtures into cups with "Jenny" scrawled over them, but really his ears are trained on the conversation Eren and Marco are having. Perhaps conversation would be stretching it a bit. Eren asks for Marco's order, gets "cappuccino" in return – I knew it! Jean thinks with triumph – asks for his name, gets, well, his name in return. As though they both didn't know his name from his first visit. Gets the payment, and cheerily tells Marco to hold on until his order is done.

Jean nearly overfills the first cup with how hard he had been trying to hear Marco's sweet voice. He hastily fills a second cup with green tea frappuccino and ignores the grin Eren shoots his way.

"So are you going to make the coffee, or am I?"

"Shut up."

Eren laughs and grabs a cup, scrawling Marco's name on it. That in itself is an answer, Jean thinks as he leaves the rest of the drinks to Eren and collects some ground espresso. He's going to make the best damn cappuccino Marco has ever tasted. Then the guy will swoon, and then Jean will have his number, and then it will be Score Two for him while Eren mopes in the background. It's a perfect plan. Even if it's a pain in the ass to foam the milk just right, but he needs to give Marco a coffee orgasm.

He's so hard at work he doesn't take a second glance at the cup Eren hands to him, just places it under the espresso dispenser and knits his brow in concentration. He can even throw in some coffee art, a heart or something. No, that'll be too obvious. A leaf? A cat? Marco seems like the type who likes cats. Jean decides to draw a cat.

The concoction is perfect. The foamed milk had made the coffee creamy, and his cat looks like a cat with a sweet smile – shut up Jaegar that's not a deranged look – and he had even sprinkled some ground cinnamon on the foam. He's sure to get a date at the very least.

Eren whisks it away, puts on a lid – Jean wants to protest but what about the cat? – and marches away to the waiting area. Jean scrambles after him. He will not let Eren steal the glory, this cappuccino's all Jean's work, it has his hopes written all over it. The chances of getting Marco's number rides on this.

Then he sees the name Eren has written on the cup and he thinks, wait, had he been painstakingly making a cappuccino for Ferdinand Magellan all this while? A guy who has been dead for more than half a millennium? Is this Eren's idea of a sick joke? But Marco is looking at him with a quizzical expression, perfect black hair parted in the middle over his wide forehead and the top button of his shirt undone and one slim hand resting on his bag, and Jean forgets everything about a dead Portuguese fellow. He has to grip onto the counter and try not to trip over his feet.

Eren grins, hands the coffee over the counter to Marco, and says, "I hope this is a traveler people haven't made dumb jokes about to you."

Marco looks stunned.

Jean is stunned.

Why hadn't he thought of that? What is Eren insinuating? Jean does not make dumb jokes, thank you very much. But more importantly, why is Marco not looking at Jean? Jean, who had made the cappuccino with extra tender loving care? Eren hadn't even said anything particularly funny. He is just being an ass like usual.

Then Marco smiles and Jean tries not to slump into the ground, because Marco looks like an angel. No, he is an angel. Even if the smile is aimed at Eren fucking Jaegar and – is that a laugh? It is. Marco is laughing, and it's a light, boyish sound that does not make Jean want to tear out his eardrums like at those girls' giggles, it's a laugh that makes his eyes wrinkle and that makes dimples appear. Dimples. Jean stares.

Eren chuckles as well. Jean makes a sound like a dying whale. Marco looks at Eren with soft eyes and walks away, turning and giving a small wave before he goes through the doors.

A small silence follows during which Jean tries to breathe normally. "Well, he does seem like a nice guy," Eren finally says.

Jean regains the strength in his legs and lunges at Eren, grabbing onto his apron. Eren yelps. The rest of the people in the café sip at their coffees peacefully, as though it is an everyday occurrence and they are used to it. "Damnit, Jaegar! My one chance, my one fucking chance, and you had to go and ruin it!"

"What is your problem, Jean!" Eren says, looking more and more pissed off. It makes his eyes seem like they're burning with the light. "You would have just said something stupid and we would have lost a customer! I'm surprised he even came back, honestly."

"I would not have said something stupid!" Jean protests. He would not have made any Marco Polo jokes for sure. Maybe just ask Marco if he wanted to play the Marco Polo game, that's all. How would that be stupid? Marco would give his small laugh and give Jean his contact number so that they could hang out and play that game, and maybe more.

Now it's Score One for both Jean and Eren, because Marco had not even looked in Jean's direction once the whole time Eren had been flirting with him. Eren, who had not a romantic bone in him.

Eren works Jean's grip off him and huffs. "If you have nothing better to do than think up stupid jokes then get to cleaning, Kirsch – right, seriously, are you okay?"

Jean had buried his face in his hands and is groaning and muttering curses, because Eren Jaegar is a fucking bastard who does not deserve to breathe the same air he does. Now Marco will never know that Jean had drawn the cat to make him happy, he will think it's all Eren's work, Jean should have signed his name on it or something.

Eren touches his shoulder hesitantly, as though afraid he'll catch some disease from Jean, something that will strip away his sanity.

"Go away, Jaegar," he says. It comes out muffled because he's still covering his face with his hands. He does not want to see Eren. He wants to keep the image of Marco smiling in his mind forever. Nevermind that it hadn't been aimed at him.

He can imagine Eren rolling his eyes. "Such a drama queen. I'll tell the boss to dock your pay."

And Jean really, really wants Eren to stop talking and to just let him wallow in misery and self-righteousness. Also because all Eren's horrible terrible no-good voice is doing is reminding him of the angelic sounds of Marco laughing and, in the background, a delighted chuckle very unlike Marco's working its way into and weaving around the boyish laughter.