Hey everyone! This is a new series-ish kinda fic, with loads of chapters (not too long, though), and plenty of pairings! But not YAOI, or if there is, very slight. I hope you enjoy! (Oh, and the title is French for Café of Love and Friendship, but I dunno if Google translated it right ^^; )

Oh, and one more thing: (disincluding the disclaimer) the timing, yeah I counted it and it fits, so if you can't see it happening that fast/slow, well... oh well :)

Disclaimer: I f I o w n e d t h i s , w e l l , i t w o u l d h a v e b e e n a l o t d i f f e r e n t ! Zexion w o u l d n ' t ' v e d i e d~

A medium-height, slender young man glanced at the clock on the wall for what seemed the fiftieth time that morning.

It was still eight thirty.

Sighing, he flipped his steel-blue bangs out of his face (only to have them fall back again), and continued standing behind the counter, bored beyond reckoning.

He loathed Thursdays. Every Thursday, a coffee vendor would set up shop down the street and sell coffee for half the price his café offered (well, the café he worked at. He didn't actually own the place).

But regardless, every Thursday, that infuriating man would sell coffee from six to nine, then leave, and then the cheapskate crowds would come swarming into the shop, not-so-subtly asking for cheaper prices. It was annoying, frustrating, and just plain irritating that his pay would be reduced by half on the fourth day of the week.

Thirty more minutes… he mentally sighed. In the meantime, his boss, a part-time scientist named Vexen, had ordered him to stay in the shop, JUST in case someone came in.

Yeah, right, he thought. As if that would happen when there's some jerk selling coffee for a dollar fifty down the street…

The large, French door suddenly opening snapped the man out of his thoughts. Straightening up and dusting off his white apron, he brushed his bangs slightly out of the way and saw a tall man with spiky red hair walking towards him.

His eyes flickered to the clock on the wall again. It was eight thirty-five. Does this guy not see the crowd down the street?

"Excuse me? Hi, I'd like the Morning Supreme, please," asked the red-haired man. He looked slightly older and had mesmerizing sea-green eyes, with purple reverse-teardrop tattoos under both of them.

The employee nodded and turned his back to the man, making his order quickly and skillfully. It was their best-selling beverage, and he had had lots of practice in making them quickly.

A minute passed before he finished the drink and handed it to the redhead.

"That will be three fifty, sir," he said politely. His customer grinned and handed him a five-dollar bill. The worker gave him his change ("One-fifty is your change, sir. Enjoy your drink,") and watched the man quietly as he sat down in one of the booths by the window. Nodding as if satisfied, he returned to leaning on the counter and watching the outside world, bored.

The man seemed to notice.

"Will you join me for a drink?" he asked. The staff member glanced at him and pointed at himself, just to check that it was indeed him that the redhead was talking to. He chuckled.

"Yes, you, silly. Who else is here?" Laughing at the employee's blush, he gave a vague hand gesture towards his booth. The man shrugged, grabbed his water bottle, and sat down across from his strange, friendly customer.

"My name's Axel. A-x-e-l. Got it memorized?" the tattooed man said as he extended his hand towards his server. He took it and shook it once before letting go.

"I am called Zexion," he said softly, looking slightly uncomfortable. Axel looked at him curiously.

"Something bothering you?" he asked before slurping his coffee. Zexion shook his head.

"Not really…" he looked out the window, another blush threatening to creep up his cheeks. Axel crossed his arms and tilted his head.

"Oh really? Then why are you acting like you'd rather not be here? Is it my hair?" he asked casually, stirring his drink. Zexion looked taken aback and shook his head.

"No. It… well, it is and isn't you. It's not your hair (and why would you think that would bother me? I'm hardly one to talk!), but just the fact that… didn't you see the crowd over there at that man's cart? He's selling coffee at half of our prices! Why didn't you go there?" Axel raised an eyebrow.

"Are you saying that you'd rather I had?" he teased with a straight face. Zexion shook his head.

"No, I'm grateful that you came here, but I was wondering: why?" His aqua eyes searched Axel's green ones for an answer.

The redhead sighed and leaned back, placing his hands behind his head.

"Well, you know. You were looking bored and lonely, and besides, I don't really like Marluxia's coffee. For some reason, it always has a fragrance of… roses. I mean, it would be nice and all, romantic too, but I want my coffee to be made out of coffee, not flowers." He smiled kindly, slurping again at his drink. It was half empty.

Zexion looked very surprised.

"You… you came in because of…me?" he asked, disbelieving, and, dare he say it? Flattered.

Axel looked at him.

"Is that a problem?" he teased. Zexion smiled.

"No." Out of habit, he glanced at the clock. Eight forty-five.

Axel continued talking to Zexion, asking him what his favourite music was, if he played sports (As if!), if he had any siblings (one, a sadistic sister named Fuu), and if he had a girlfriend.

"What?"

"Just what I asked. Do you have a girlfriend?" Axel smirked as Zexion looked at him strangely.

"Yes… but of what interest is that to you?" The spiky-haired man laughed again and finished his drink, shrugging as he did so.

"No reason. Just curious. Like I said, you looked pretty bored and lonely, and I was wondering if you had a girlfriend. Well," he said, stretching, "thanks for the drink. It was really good!" Standing up and tossing the plastic cup in the wastebasket, he gave a two-fingered salute to Zexion.

"I'll see ya when I'll see ya. After all, we're friends now. Got it memorized? Catch ya later, Zexy," he said, and with that, walked out of the shop, taking care to shut the door quietly. He winked at Zexion through the window and walked down the sidewalk, out of sight.

Well… he certainly is a strange person… but a friendly guy. I've never seen him around though…

Once again, the shop was silent as Zexion returned to his spot behind the counter. He absentmindedly began drumming his fingers on the glass when something red on his hand caught his eye. Looking at it, he laughed out loud as he saw that, sometime during their conversation, Axel had drawn a smiley face on his hand with red Sharpie, and had written his phone number down. Zexion smiled, and once again glanced at the clock.

Eight fifty.

Well, he thought, ten minutes isn't so bad…

End of Chapter One

TBC