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The sun had yet to breach the horizon, and Nick had already burnt himself twice.
Monroe’s shop was small, barely above fire hazard regulations for the amount of people crammed into it all waiting on Nick to finish making their drinks. Normally he didn’t touch the coffee - Monroe called his attempts at shots a crime against humanity - but his boss was busy in the back, puttering around the oven in a desperate bid to refill the rapidly emptying shelves with more pastries.
Nick had told him this would happen. Monroe hadn’t believed him, not even after Nick created socials for his shop and made art of the coffee like each cup was a pin-up girl. Maybe after today he’d finally raise Nick’s pay for all that effort.
The horde of customers finally eased, and just as Nick was finishing making the drink for the last one the bell above the door dinged again. Nick bit back his groan and glanced up from the ancient contraption of an espresso machine Monroe made him use to his newest customer.
It was that man. Sean.
He was wearing his uniform today, all long lines from the crisp jacket that cut his shoulders into angles that could hold up a mountain to the black pants that went on as if his legs never ended. A matching hat was tucked under his arm, unfortunately, though Nick didn’t need to see it on him to imagine how it would look.
Was it that time already? Nick chanced a glance at the clock, and yes, it was. Sean came in as if he was one himself, at the same time every day, ordering the same thing every time. Monroe made a noise from the back as if he might come out to take Sean’s order, and Nick rushed through the rest of the drink he was making and threw it onto the counter before dashing to the register.
“Hi,” Nick said a little breathlessly. “What can I get you today?”
Sean looked at him, and his eyes were the green of crushed carapaces, a dark chartreuse that Nick wanted to dip his paint brush in and spread across the canvas. He’d make a whole forest of eyes like that, just to make sure he accurately captured the way the edges crinkled when Sean offered him a small smile.
What he would do to paint that smile.
“Same as usual,” Sean said, pulling out his wallet. “A red eye, please.”
Nick had never heard of that drink before working at Monroe’s shop. Apparently it meant caffeine, and a lot of it, and the words to ask why Sean would need one every day burned on Nick’s tongue. But part of the job was knowing what not to say to customers, and while those words burned, they weren’t the ones Nick really wanted to ask.
Instead, Nick said, “Coming right up.”
He rung up Sean’s order and set about making it, and though he’d made it every day since Sean had first started showing up at Monroe’s shop, his hands still shook as he told himself that this would be the time - this time, he was going to ask Sean if he could paint him.
“So-” Nick cut off as the ancient contraption hissed at him, and Sean wasn’t even looking at him, he was looking at his phone, and maybe it would be easier to do this when he was handing Sean his drink. Nick took extra care to do each step right, to make it exactly the way Monroe taught him, and when it was done he snagged his sharpie from his apron and quickly drew a little happy coffee mug on the side of the cup before Sean could see.
He shoved the sharpie away and approached the counter with his offering. Sean finally looked up from his phone, his small smile back in place, and Nick held out the cup to him, and this was his chance, all he had to do was say it, and Sean took the cup and their fingers brushed and Nick blurted out, “See you tomorrow.”
Sean nodded, his smile widening just that much. “Yes. Thank you.”
And he turned and left.
Nick flopped onto the counter with a groan, burying his face in his folded arms. The door to the back room swung open behind him, and Monroe called out, “Did you get his number?!”
His number. Nick hadn’t even thought of that. “Stop watching me!”
“Then stop flirting in my shop,” Monroe snapped back, though there was no heat to it. He came up behind Nick and dropped his hand onto the back of Nick’s head, and his sigh was the most put-upon Nick had ever heard from him. “You’re hopeless. You know that?”
“Thanks,” Nick muttered. At least Sean would be back tomorrow.