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On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
God, Armie hates this song. It’s annoying and infuriating. The worst of all, it stays in your head and the lyrics just play on a constant loop in your brain, making your skin crawl from the inside. Highly possible it can smooth your brain foldings.
It’s also the fact he hates all this festive vibe everyone and everything is spurting now. He just wants to buy his fucking coffee without hearing Merry Christmas everyone. Because guess fucking what — not everyone celebrates Christmas.
The ignorance honestly
The queue to the counter is surprisingly long and Armie groans inside. He just wants his usual caffeine intake without having to be around people. Is it really so much he asks for?!
It moves slowly, which makes his skin itch. He knows it’s absurd to get angry over it since he has no control over it. Yet, easier said than done. He can’t help himself from getting irritated, bristling internally especially when the girl before him asks for some crazy, ass-weird connotation that sounds like ¾ of sugar and perhaps 0.1% of coffee. He honest to God rolls his eyes. Trust capitalism to get money even from a gingerbread-flavoured coffee with 3 shots of nut liqueur and a pump of the chocolate one.
That’s another quite pesky issue he has with coffee shops. You can’t just go there and ask for coffee. Because they ask you which type, maybe this one or this, maybe something else to this, don’t you want something additional. And it goes on and on and on, while he just wants his big cup of black coffee to go.
No, not venti
Big.
“What can I get you?” the barista asks, right on time because Armie is ready to sing the song of his ancestors. He doesn’t. But it’s a close call.
It’s not the same person that usually greets him. Not that blond girl that is awfully cheerful and happy, smiling at him oddly even when he grunts his order. She makes fun of him. Armie even likes her, she just copes with his harshness and gruffness.
“Big black coffee” he replies.
The barista chuckles and gets to work.
“You wanna something sweet with that black coffee of yours?” the guys asks, and Armie raises one eyebrow at him. It usually makes people feel stressed. “Well, we have some delicious display of them today. But I would personally recommend blueberry muffins?
“You made them yourself or something?” Armie asks suspiciously, scrutinising him, but the dude chortles. Honest to god laughs at Armie.
The boldness of some people, honestly
“Oh god no. Or else they would taste like cardboard and look like poop on a plate sprinkled with blueberries” his eyes widening when he realizes what he had just said and this time it’s Armie’s turn to laugh. “I mean no, I didn’t make them”
“I’ll take one then” Armie replies because yeah he is that asshole. But the guy only chuckles and gets the paper bag to put the muffin in. There are crinkles around his eyes that only makes him more open and benign.
~~*~~
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Five golden rings
Armie not so lowkey hates the fact he knows the lyrics and will be humming them (with obvious contempt and derision) standing in the line, that at least isn’t a long one. But that also might be treacherous. A few days ago Armie went for groceries, and he had to spent about 15 minutes waiting in line, because the woman before him was stupid enough to think she will get the money back as soon as she returns the item and would have had money to buy new things.
But he is lucky today and soon standing in front of the barista, the same one as a couple of days ago, that smiles at him genuinely and when Armie opens his mouth to place his order, the guy just says
“Big black coffee right?” with a voice laced with amusement and Armie can just nod affirmatively. The guy smiles at him like it’s something cute and adorable, even though Armie has his scoff and stern face, before turning around and starting on his coffee. Which gives Armie way to stare for a bit, unconcerned of being caught. He can admire the backside, the nice swell of the guy’s ass but what really gets his interest peak up are the rings adorning his hands. They look really simple, but yet there is something captivating in them, how they catch and flick the light, how they press a bit to the digits. Some all the way down on his fingers and some stopped on the first knuckle. They made his hands looking even more delicate and long.
“Here ya go”
Armie is sure his eyes widened at the sudden movement, but he tries to keep his composure, getting the coffee from the barista and saying ‘ thank yo u’.
“Maybe next time you will be more adventurous and risk something more exciting,” he says as farewell and Armie just rises his one eyebrow at him, before shuffling away.
~~*~~
“Oh come on! Please please please” Tim whines and Armie is grateful they are alone in the coffee shop. He hates the eerily looks of strangers. And yeah, the barista guy is Tim now. Or Timmy. With the name came as well a plethora of opinions about Armie’s coffee habits. “Just a squeeze. I swear you will like it” Armie raises his brows, pulling the most bitchy face he can muster, trying not to break it and smile at Tim’s hopeful face.
“Okay” he agrees eventually, reluctant to the idea, expecting victory dance from Tim, but he just flashes him a huge, happy smile before turning and setting himself to work.
~~*~~
He knew it was a bad idea. A mistake. Because the next day he comes Tim is smiling at him widely, showing his crooked adorable teeth and gripping the mug with his both hands that he quickly passes to him.
“What is this ?”
“Your coffee”
“It’s brownish”
“Well yeah it’s festive coffee flavour”
“I don’t like festive”
“Just try it”
“I don’t wanna try it”
“Oh come on! Live a little” to which Armie pulls his honed to perfection ‘ really bitch ’ face and Tim pouts.
The pepper-mint mix doesn’t taste that bad, yet Armie still longes after his big black coffee.
~~*~~
He is getting weak. And soft. Which is ridiculous to think because he is Armand Hammer. He is grumpy. He rarely smiles. He likes his coffee black. And most of all, he isn’t inclined to chat with baristas or cash-registers. He is nice to them, of course, he is, but he just isn’t that person. So, how it is even possible for him to go every day to the same coffee shop, not getting what he wants and staying longer just for a small talk. The worst of all, it is in fact the brightest time of his day. Things are getting slightly out of his hands.
~~*~~
“You’re an elf”
“Exceptional deduction skills my dude. Those holidays are doing amazing things for ya”
“Har har har” still Tim shoots him a smug smile, before turning around and starting to mix his coffee. It is always a surprise these days. And sometimes he also gets a muffin or croissant for free.
“Here,” Tim says, pushing a paper cup towards him and Armie takes a small cautious sip.
“Good” he mumbles at Tim’s tense expression.
“Gingerbread cookies” Tim clarifies, flashing him almost a shy smile.
~~*~~
He is late. Very late. But he still hopes they will be open for another couple of minutes. It is Christmas Eve and Armie didn’t know what should he do, so he hasn’t gone to the coffee shop in the morning as per usual. But the thought nagged him until he realized that he did want to wish Tim ‘ Merry Christmas’ .
He pushes the door, a bit anxious and breathless, but they give away under his pressure and he steps inside. The bell as always tingling at his entrance. He looks at the counter and watches Tim’s face morphing at the sight of him, the huge smile taking over his features.
“Wasn’t sure you would come” Tim admits, shy and nervous. Not entirely certain what boundaries are.
“I wasn’t as well. But I wanted to wish you Merry Christmas” Armie says, his own words sounding stupid to him. Cliche and flat.
“You too. Are you going to see your family?”
“No … I mean, I don’t have good contact with them. Besides, I don’t usually celebrate Christmas” even to himself Armie sounds a bit tired. Lonely.
“Come on let’s go. Let’s see if you will handle Chalamet-Christmas-Hannukah party”
“No. It’s …. How will you even introduce me huh?” Armie responds, laughing hollowly
“First who cares. Second as my grumpy customer perhaps? I mean I totally understand you don’t want to spend Christmas with some random dude from your coffee shop. Or is that you are not a religious person? I swear my family isn’t judging” Tim quickly adds, getting into a rambling mode. Making Armie smile, his inside fluttering with delight.
“Tim. Timmy” he pauses, after getting Tim’s attention, his eyes focusing on Armie, lips curving into an apologetic smile “I’ll go with you”
“Wicked”