I Hate Coffee, But I Love You (N)

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TW: E for some explicit sex scenes, Coffee Shop AU

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Sips doesn't like coffee, but he drinks a lot of it. It's bitter against his tongue, no matter how much sugar he heaps into his mug after he wakes, eyes bleary with a lack of sleep. He has one cup when he wakes up, fills a flask before he leaves for work to take with him which inevitably goes cold in his truck and he has to chug it before he leaves the office car park, has about three from the office coffee machine, and then it's lunch break. Lunch break is important because he leaves work for more coffee. This coffee is different because it's from a coffee shop, 'The Captive Creeper', so it's not from a jar of instant, or if it is it's not like he can tell the difference.

Really, although he wouldn't admit it out loud, he goes for the environment of the shop. There's something comforting about the warmth and bustle of the shop, so he likes to slump into an armchair and banter with whoever approaches him, be it staff or customer.

And then when he leaves, he returns to work, where he sits in his open and empty office at the top of the building, and drinks more machine coffee, and then he drives home to his apartment where he has just himself and his work to think about. He feels hollow, and he can't explain it because he knows people who would kill for his wealth and personal space, and he can't fix it either because he hates animals. Sips goes to bed and lies awake, waiting for the caffeine to wear out, and then after three hours of barely restful sleep the cycle starts again. Since he's lazy and doesn't see the point in trying, Sips lets the cycle be, and drifts.

-

One particular day, Sips parks his car on the high street and heads for the coffee shop. The outside is usually pretty nondescript and painted a dark green, with a chalkboard of prices and offers sat outside in the street that normally goes unnoticed. Today, however, a stick figure waving is haphazardly drawn on it, which catches his eye.

"What the fuck," Sips mutters to himself as he stops in front of the chalkboard and leans down to read it. It says:

'Today your barista (the hot one with badass facial hair) is
1) Hella fucking gay
2) Desperately single
Today I'd reccomend
That you give me your number.'

Unfortunately, the description on the board is completely accurate. The barista gives a slightly buck toothed smile from behind the counter when Sips comes in, and waves. He has light chestnut hair, and a lot of it. His fringe is coiffed back, and his moustache and beard are waxed in a way that reminds Sips of a Victorian gentleman. He is also upsettingly attractive. Like, Sips honestly had to blink when the guy caught his eye because it was a bit much. Physically, he's pretty skinny and average height, not that Sips doesn't find himself looking. His skin is slightly tanned, although compared to the pallor of Sips' own skin that's not exactly surprising, wonderful facial bone structure because Sips swears he could cut things on his cheekbones, but most importantly, he has piercingly blue eyes. Stupidly blue. Inescapably blue. Shit.

"Uh, hey," Sips mumbles when he reaches the bar, and looks to the guy's chest for a name badge. The badge reads 'My name is: Sjin'. The j and i are dotted with a smiley face. Cute. "How do I pronounce...?"

The barista giggles. "It's S-jin. Nice to meet you."

"S- like Shin?"

"N-no like S-jin."

"S-Shin?"

"Nevermind," Sjin sighs softly. "Not many people can actually pronounce it. What can I get you?" He smiles again, and a warm pool of relief settles in Sips' belly.

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