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i.
Jean loved working the till, passing on orders and taking names was his specialty. He had enough charisma to charm just about anyone from cynical art students to flustered businessmen. He loved meeting new people and guessing their life story from just that small moment. Jean learnt that you could learn just about anything from a glance and a coffee order.
Like the tall brunette who came in a few days earlier, a scowl on her face with brown, sunken eyes in desperate need of an espresso. Clearly a student who stayed up too late the night before either partying or studying. The tattoo he saw on her lower back as she walked away opened up a whole new wave of possibilities. Was it out of rebellion from her parents? Significance to her personal life? Her love life? Would she still have it in ten years? His questioning never went too far because there was always another customer.
This one stumped him.
A small blond with a feminine figure and hair as bright as a canary walked into the coffee shop. A messenger bag dragged down his left shoulder, bunching up his beige cardigan. He hitched it up as he approached the till, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. He wasn’t Jean’s type by any means. Jean preferred dark, mysterious types not adorable blond men with cute smiles and confused blue eyes. Why did he look confused?
“Hello, I’d like to order?”
The gears in Jean’s brain suddenly began to move again. “Shit, yeah sorry!” He had been so wrapped up in the man’s looks he forgot he needed to take an order. “What can I get you today?” He coughed awkwardly as he wrote down an order for some sweet syrupy frappe. “Can I take your name?”
One of the perks of the job was that you immediately learnt the names of cute customers. “Thorin.” Jean pauses for a moment, mouth opening like a fish before closing again as he writes the name on the cup in black sharpie.
“What like Thorin Oakenshield from The Hobbit?” Jean passed the cup onto Sasha.
“Yeah except without the whole dwarf thing also I’m not a king.” The blond shrugs with a small smile and hitches the bag strap further up his shoulder.
Jean was so happy it was a slow day and he had no more customers. “So your parents weren’t royalty, but they were Tolkien fans.”
Thorin moved further up the counter after giving the exact change for his coffee. “God no, they can’t stand fantasy.”
Jean was just about to ask why Thorin’s parents would name him after a character from The Hobbit if they hated fantasy, but Sasha called his order and he was gone.
ii.
His shift started later the next day, and when he got in he immediately interrogated Sasha and Connie about Throin.
“What he look like?” Connie asked, wiping down the counter.
“Cute. Blond. Cute. Blue eyes. Cute. Short... Cute.”
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Jean, we work at a Starbucks on a university campus, how many cute, shor’, blond guys with blue eyes do you think we see everyday?” She asked around a blueberry muffin. “Like c’mon dude.”
Jean huffed in exasperation as he rung up a customer. “His name is Thorin. Thorin. How many people with that name do you think came into this branch today?”
“I don’t fucking know. I write names down on cups not my spank bank.”
Connie nods solemnly. “You’re pretty pervy dude.”
Then as if there was a God who heard Jean’s prayers, he walks in. Thorin, beautiful blond Thorin walks into his shop. “He’s here!” Jean hisses to Connie and Sasha.
Thorin walked up to the counter, grabbing a pack of caramel waffles as he went. Sasha was about to move to take his order, but Jean reached the counter first. “What can I get you today?”
Thorin placed the waffles on the counter. He was in a different cardigan, green this time suiting his skin tone and bringing out his eyes. His messenger bag on the same shoulder and a book in hand, he looked up at the menu. “A medium caramel frappuccino I think. With cream.”
“You really like caramel, huh?” Jean asked, grabbing the cup and sharpie.
“The waffles aren’t for me.” Jean felt a slight pang in his hear then because who were they for? a boyfriend? a girlfriend? Swallowing his unprofessional thoughts he asked for the boys name, though he already knew it. He didn’t want Thorin to know he was thinking non stop for the past days. “Antonio.”
That stopped Jean short in his tracks. It was definitely the same guy but which one was his real name, Antonio or Thorin? “Medium caramel frappuccino for Antonio coming right up. With the waffles that’s four-sixty please.”
iii.
Jean didn’t see him for another week after that. He tried to forget about him because a dude with multiple names was just too confusing for Jean to deal with. He had enough on his plate with work, college fees and a major in chemistry.
He walked into the coffee shop after a lecture for his Tuesday afternoon shift with Historia and Connie. Jean liked that shift because Historia was in charge of the floor and didn’t put up with Connie’s bullshit. The smell of fresh coffee hit him like a bus as the chatter of customers filled his ears. This was a busy shift, he’d forgotten that.
“Kirchstien get behind the counter now. You’re making orders with Connie.” Historia told him, handing over change and thanking the customer.
Jean put on his apron, washed his hands and took his place next to Connie who was muttering something about being understaffed and there not being enough room to think. Though Jean agreed that the rush was too large for three people to manage, he sucked it up and did his goddamn job.
About halfway through his shift, Connie nudged him and pointed at the door. “Isn’t that Cinderella?” Sasha had given Thorin/Antonio the nickname because a) he was blond b) he was a mystery c) it was easier than saying Thorin-slash-Antonio.
Anyway, it was Cinderella and he had a friend which Jean wasn’t at all jealous about. Not one bit. He was bullshitting himself and he knew it, he was jealous and he didn’t even have the right to be. He sighed heavily, making orders Historia barked at him.
With two finished drinks he went up to the pick up station. “Vanilla latte for Mikasa, espresso for Eren.” He set them down and watched Cinderella and his friend pick up the drinks, still waiting there.
Connie moved past. “Caramel frappuccino for Armin?” He asked Cinderella. The blond nodded with a thanks and took his coffee before the two men left side by side.
“Eh Jean-bo!” Connie called out. “Sorry about your boyfriends, boyfriend. Every silver lining’s got a cloud right?”
“How the hell have you not been fired for coming into work high yet?”
iv.
Jean could tell as the words fell from his mouth that everyone was sick and tired of hearing about his crush, but it was all he wanted to talk about. “So I’m pretty sure his name is Armin because he was with someone so he’s less likely to use a fake name and not get called out on it.”
He was sat in Sasha and Annie’s apartment, perched on their counter top retelling his theory to Sasha for probably the thousandth time
Annies annoyed tone came from the next room.“Do you wanna shut up or do you wanna get stabbed?”
“It’s illegal to threaten to kill someone you know.” He called back.
“If I’m getting arrested, it’s gonna be because I was true to my word.”
Jean shut up after that and decided it would be best to just ask Armin straight up what his name was, if he wanted to catch a movie, maybe move in and marry him. That may be too forward, Jean thought to himself and settled on simply starting with his name and seeing were it goes from there.
And the next day when the boy comes in, orders a caramel latte and gives the name “Stannis,” Jean notices the title of the book the blond carries in his hand.
“Game of Thrones fan, huh?” Jean writes down the fake name. The boy was using names from books instead of his real one. Clever.
“Yeah I’m just rereading in preparation for the new book.” That smile was so beautiful. “Have you read them?”
Jean huffs out. “I’ve read the first one but life catches up with you, you know? So what’s your actual name?”
He blushes slightly at that, looking down at his wallet to avoid eye contact. “You noticed then.” He looked up at Jean, trying to smile but it was obvious he felt slightly uncomfortable. “Armin.”
Jean can’t help but smile at that. “Armin.” He repeats. “I’m Jean.”
“Well Jean, I would stay and talk but I have a seminar to get to and you’re working so could we exchange numbers or something?”
When Armin leaves, his cup has his name and a number which he’ll definitely call later.