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“Hi, welcome to Starbucks, what can I get started for you?” Louis had said the same line so many times that it came rolling off his tongue with zero forthought, before even looking up.
“Oh, uh…”
Louis cursed six second ago Louis for not noticing who it was and taking a short break into the walk-in to scream before getting back to the register. Louis pasted on his fakest smile, tilted his head slightly, and motioned toward the cup the guy was already holding.
“Sorry,” he said. And though he sounded sorry, Louis doubted he really was. “It’s just that I ordered no foam on this chai, and I think there’s foam.”
“Sorry about that!” Louis’ own high pitched customer service voice was giving him a headache. He turned, but Oli had left him alone up front. “I’ll remake it for you. Nonfat? 120 degrees? 2 pumps pumpkins? And no foam.”
“Thank you. Really. I really appreciate it.”
Louis kept his smile pasted on his face until he turned around to make the drink again.
He plastered the smile on again when he handed the remade drink over. “No foam!”
The guy sighed. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Louis waved goodbye before he turned back to the register, where Oli was doubled over laughing.
“I hate you.”
“I couldn’t deal with him today. That’s the what… 3rd day in a row he’s had a problem with his order? Like, just make your drinks at home, dude.”
“And he’s so cute too. I used to have such a crush on him.”
Oli faked gagged. “Don’t remind me.”
***
He was back and Louis was at the register again and could hear Oli snickering from where he was restocking the pastries.
The guy at least had the courtesy to look sheepish as he asked, “Could I please get a grande Caramel Apple Spice?”
Louis could feel himself blink a million times. “A what now?”
He cleared his throat. “A, uh,” he glanced down at his phone, reading the rest, “steamed apple juice? With cinnamon syrup, whipped cream, and caramel sauce?”
“Sure.” Whatever floated this guy’s boat. “Whatever you’d like.”
“Is that not,” he cleared his throat, “is that not a real drink?”
“It will be; after I make it. We have all the stuff for it, but no one’s ever ordered that before.” Honestly, it wouldn’t be the worst drink to make, and it’s not like he’d send it back because it was made wrong, as he’d clearly never had it before.
“Okay.” The guy smiled, big and warm. And damn was Louis a sucker for dimples. He refused to flirt today though—he could pick it up again when he went back to his iced coffees. Which couldn’t happen soon enough.
***
“Venti Iced Apple Crisp Oatmilk Decaf Macchiato, upside down, with caramel drizzle around the cup?”
Louis sighed. “Yeah sure. Can you repeat that one more time, so I make sure I get it right for you?”
***
“It’s Harry.”
Louis froze. The last thing he needed was a corporate complaint and for him to have to wear a hairnet instead of the standard green dad hat. “What’s hairy?”
“Sorry. My name. For the cup?”
“Oh. Right. Cool.” It was nice to put a name to his very nice face. Normally their store wasn’t busy enough to warrant writing everyone’s name, but today actually was, with the line nearing the door, Louis had been asking. It was nice of Harry to offer it up without prompting… even if he did order a Hot Apple Chai, with cinnamon drizzle, whipped cream, and pumpkin topping. ‘Light whipped cream, please.’
“Thank you, Louis.” A blush bloomed on his cheeks as he ducked his head and scuffled to wait at the other end of the counter.
He liked the way his name sounded on Harry’s tongue. And the fact that he was always unfailingly polite, even though he was a pain sometimes. “You’re welcome,” Louis said softly, after he had already walked away.
***
“Hey, Louis.” Oli tapped him on the shoulder. Louis put down his inventory clipboard. “You got someone up front who’s asking for you.”
“Me?”
“Is there another Louis on staff?”
“Alright. No need to be a dickhead about it. I’ll be right out.”
Louis stopped by the stainless steel fridges, and did his best to make sure that he looked presentable, for whoever was asking for him. Even if it was Lottie, she was sure to make fun of him if he had a smear of something across his face.
But it wasn’t his sister.
It was Harry.
“Oh. Hi. Harry. How are you?”
“Good. I’m good. How are you?” Harry was flipping his Starbucks card around and around in his hand.
“Good. Confused, maybe. What can I do for you?”
“Um, can I please get three drinks? A venti iced coffee—”
“Ah, back to your original!” Louis keyed it in.
“Can’t argue with a classic. And a, uh, tall decaf dark chocolate and orange oat latte? No whip? Extra vanilla?”
Louis snorted. “Okay. I see. You needed me for your complicated drink making.”
Harry shrugged. “You’re always nice. Even when something isn’t quite right.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Harold.”
“Harry.”
“Right.”
They stared at each other from across the register, and Louis couldn’t help the smile growing on his face.
“Sorry,” Louis shook himself out of Harry’s green eyes when Oli swung back through the door to the front. “You said you wanted three…”
“Yeah, um…” The delicious blush was back on his cheeks. “Your coworker—”
“And best friend!” Oli added, unnecessarily.
“He said that you like tea? More than coffee? So I’d like to buy you one, if, if that’s okay. I don’t want to be creepy. I just… it feels like maybe there’s a vibe? But if I’m misreading it then—”
“You’re not.” Louis wanted to put him out of his misery, and also maybe kiss him up against the wall for a bit. “You’re not misreading it, I mean. But, um, instead of a tea, maybe I could give you my number? We could meet up, outside of here?”
“Cool,” Harry’s face lit up. “Yeah, I’d like that. A lot.”
***
“Gemma, this is Louis. Louis, Gemma.”
It had only been a few weeks, but they’d already moved into the ‘meeting each other’s families’ part of getting to know each other, since they were both so close with their siblings.
“Nice to meet you, Gemma. Thanks for agreeing to brunch, since I have my shift later.” Louis had been nervous enough, but the last minute time change had shot his nerves through the roof. It turns out that he really liked Harry, so much, and he was desperate for his older sister’s seal of approval.
Before they even got through the niceties, their waiter was at their side, ready to take their drink orders.
“Mimosa, please,” said Louis.
“Same,” said Harry.
“I’ll have a tomato juice, light ice, with a splash of olive juice, a dash of hot sauce, and a celery salt rim.”
“Celery salt rim…” the waiter repeated as he wrote down her order. “I’ll see what we can do and let you know.”
“Thank you!” Gemma sent him away with a blinding smile, then turned to Louis. “Since I’ve been pregnant, I’ve been craving the most specific things. And it changes every day. Thankfully Harry has been the absolute best, running to Starbucks every day for me.”
“Louis’ the one who’s been making them,” Harry explained. “And remaking them, on occasion.” Harry grimaced. “I really am sorry about that, by the way.”
“Oh my god,” Louis groaned. “This whole time I’ve been wondering why he suddenly needed these very specific drinks that needed to be made just right, when he used to be so easy.”
Gemma cackled. “Oh no. I’m the high maintenance one. He’s the easy one.” She elbowed him in the ribs. “Especially easy for, and I quote, the hottest boy I’ve ever seen.” She lowered her voice, doing a terrible impression of Harry, “I can’t even talk in front of him, he makes me so nervous!” Harry swatted her arm away. “But look at you two now, thanks to me, you’ve gotten it together.”
“Absolutely not!” Harry squawked. “You do not get to claim responsibility for my boyfriend. Nope. Not happening.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” Louis butted in. “Quite like the sound of that.”
Harry squeezed his thigh under the table. “Me too.”
The waiter returned with their drinks. Gemma took one sip, proclaimed that it wasn’t quite right, and sent it back.