Chapter Text
“What do you mean you won’t accept my card!?”
The customer in front of Lan Wangji was causing such a ruckus, waving his hands in the air and slamming them down on the counter. As he leaned forward, the barista behind the register didn’t seem nervous or fazed by the customer’s outburst.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the barista said, although clearly only out of polite protocol, “we simply don’t accept those credit cards here. Our machines won’t read them. Do you have another card?”
“I have a complaint!” The customer yelled. “Don’t you know who I am? I am Wen Chao! I am the governor’s son! You will accept my card, or I demand to speak to your manager!”
The barista winced, only because this Wen Chao’s voice reached such shrieking heights that everyone in the coffee shop glanced over. As Lan Wangji looked around, he saw Sizhui and Jingyi at a table sharing a pair of earbuds. They only glanced up but didn’t stare. Sizhui gave a cursory wave with a smile to Lan Wangji before Jingyi pointed to something on his phone screen, whisking away Sizhui’s attention again. Lan Wangji nodded to himself. Even then, those kids were maintaining their conduct and not staring at strangers in public. He made a note to himself to order extra whipped cream on their drinks as a small reward.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Governor’s son.” Again, the barista seemed more or less annoyed, making it obvious in the tone of his voice. “The machine won’t make an exception for you. It’s a machine. Do you have another card?” He punctuated each word, speaking slowly as if Wen Chao couldn’t hear. Wen Chao clearly heard the mocking tone of voice, and he was practically steaming from the ears.
“It doesn’t matter if I have another card!! You insolent working class, you really think you can defy me?” Wen Chao sneered, pointing an accusing finger as the barista simply brushed nonexistent dust off his red apron. Lan Wangji watched him carefully, finally able to catch that his nametag read “Ying” with a little bunny drawn next to it.
The barista—Ying, Lan Wangji noted, and practiced saying in his head— gave such a sly grin, narrowing his eyes. He almost sang his next retort, “You know us working-class people. We’re like machines! And even machines won’t make an exception for you.” He put on another happy pleasant grin, masking his malice. “Do you have another card? Or do I have to call my manager?”
Wen Chao felt the threat before him. Despite earlier demanding to speak with his manager, he seemed to now be threatened with the mere idea of standing before the manager. With an angry grumble, he stuffed his card back into his wallet and pulled out another one, muttering all along the way. He didn’t even wait until the payment was processed to walk away.
“Hey—“ Ying called after him, but decidedly gave up, crossing his arms as he stared at the register. The payment went through, the receipt printed. He grabbed it and crumpled it, tossing it away to a hidden trash can. With a roll of his eyes and a huff, he beckoned Lan Wangji over. Lan Wangji forgot that he was next in line and Ying was simply calling him over to take his order, and so felt his ears heating up at the lazy crook of Ying’s finger.
When Lan Wangji didn’t approach, Ying looked toward him with wide eyes. He couldn’t help but let a smile bloom over his face when he saw the stoic man seemingly holding his breath. “I can help you now.” Lan Wangji still seemed to be frozen in his spot. “You, the handsome one?” When Lan Wangji finally seemed to notice he was being spoken to, Ying laughed out loud as he shuffled closer.
“Sorry about all of that,” Ying motioned vaguely to the side. “What can I get for you?” His whole demeanor seemed to relax, no longer standing straight but leaning his weight on one leg, his hand hovering over the stacks of coffee cups. Lan Wangji’s eyes tracked downwards before going back up to meet Ying’s.
“It is not a problem. Apologies for such a customer…” Lan Wangji read over his nametag again, swallowing dryly, “…Ying.”
The barista seemed dumbstruck for just a second, eyes wide, before glancing down and remembering that he had a nametag on. He laughed. “I forgot that they wrote my first name. I didn’t think anyone ever read these things anyway. If you want, you can call me Wei Ying, that sounds more natural. Though, I do like how my name sounds on your tongue.” He rubbed his cheek with his shoulder as if trying to rub away his gleeful smile to no avail. He was already spouting sentence upon sentence, instantly more comfortable with Lan Wangji than with the other customer. “No need to apologize. It’s not like you’re with him, are you?”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji practiced, and the smile on Wei Ying’s face seemed to spread even wider. He simply shook his head. “Not with him. With kids.”
Wei Ying’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Your own? You look too young to be a father.”
Lan Wangji couldn’t tell that he was being flirted with. He glanced at Sizhui and Jingyi, who were already looking straight at him. Sizhui quickly averted his eyes, tugging on Jingyi’s hair to do the same, but unmistakably they were watching him with rapt attention. “I did not father them.” He quickly took a look behind him, glad that nobody else was in line, leaving him some more time to talk to the barista. Wei Ying seemed to do the same and shot him a smile.
“Then, what can I get for you?” Wei Ying spun the marker in his hand before uncapping it with his thumb.
“One London Fog,” Lan Wangji listed.
“A man of class,” Wei Ying grinned as he flipped a paper cup into his hand, scribbling on it for a little bit. Lan Wangji fell silent, waiting for him to finish. “Is that going to be all, sir?”
Lan Wangji shook his head. “A vanilla blend, and a double chocolate chip mocha blend, both with extra whipped cream.”
“And can I get your name, please?” Wei Ying said with a wink as he wrote on two plastic cups. Lan Wangji felt some sort of emotion bubbling in his stomach, though he couldn’t quite name it. His own name almost felt caught in his throat.
“Lan Wangji,” he said. Wei Ying picked up the paper cup again and wrote his name on it, scribbling on it a little bit more than necessary.
Wei Ying clicked a few buttons on the register. “Go ahead and swipe when you’re ready,” he said, twirling around and grabbing a few teabags for the drink.
“Cash.” Lan Wangji said simply. Wei Ying twirled back around as he put the lid on top of Lan Wangji’s drink, pressed a few buttons to cancel the card swipe and instead popping the register open. He slid the hot tea across the counter smoothly as Lan Wangji held out the bill. For a moment, their hands touched, and Lan Wangji could only helplessly notice how warm Wei Ying’s hand was.
He waited patiently as the barista counted out the change, dumping the coins and bills in his hands rather haphazardly. Lan Wangji dumped the change into the tip jar nonchalantly, which seemed to earn a wide grin from Wei Ying.
“Enjoy.” Wei Ying said, almost in a low tantalizing whisper that did things to poor Lan Wangji’s heart. With another smile and a regular tone of voice, he said, “Your blends will be out in a minute, Lan~ Wang~ji!”
Lan Wangji picked up his drink carefully with a nod, heading back over to where the two juniors were sitting. Sizhui waved again, taking the earbud out of his ear, as did Jingyi.
“Did the transaction go smoothly?” Sizhui asked politely.
“Mn.” Lan Wangji nodded as he set his drink down and pulled out the chair to sit. “Extra whipped cream for both of you.”
Jingyi’s eyes widened, and the two of them glanced at each other. “Why?” he asked crassly.
“You’re in a good mood.” Sizhui laughed. Lan Wangji nodded. Jingyi was too afraid to admit that he was not good at reading Lan Wangji’s expressions like Sizhui could, and simply trusted Sizhui’s word.
Jingyi averted his gaze, embarrassed to say that he didn’t understand Lan Wangji’s exceptionally good attitude, especially when he was standing behind such an annoying customer earlier. Naturally, searching for anything to look at other than his companions, Jingyi’s eyes fell on his mentor’s coffee cup. “Ah!”
Sizhui and Lan Wangji both looked over at Jingyi’s sudden outburst, and Jingyi slapped a hand over his mouth. At least, when he glanced back up to see Lan Wangji raise an eyebrow in confusion, he was relieved that he understood this expression.
Jingyi pointed to the cup timidly, a second-hand embarrassment coloring his pallor. “That barista drew all over your cup.”
Lan Wangji, who hadn’t even bothered to look at the cup having wholeheartedly believed that Wei Ying made his tea right, picked up the cup. His eyes widened at it.
There was a little bunny head drawn by Lan Wangji’s name. Next to it was scribbled “Call me!” followed by a phone number.
Lan Wangji whipped his head around to see Wei Ying staring at him with a gleeful grin. Overcome with emotion, Lan Wangji stood up, almost feebly trying to mask his shaking voice. “We’re going.”
Sizhui sighed. Jingyi whined. “But—what about our drinks too!?”