Work Text:
“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!”
The voice of a man running in anger echoed as he made his way down the seventh (or eighth? He had lost count) alleyway he could find. His date was NOT helpful in giving him directions to the place they agreed on, and Pico was already running almost a half hour late trying to find the damn place.
“Where the fuck is this damn coffee shop—”
Pico stopped in his tracks as he reached the end of the alleyway - it was a long stretch of wall on both sides of him, and just before it let him out onto the opposing street of where he came from, he had found it. A dusty sign and wrinkled fliers decorated the exterior of the corner café, and Pico could barely make out the words “Back Alley” on the front door as he stepped inside.
“Yo! Welcome to the Back Alley!”
A loud voice greeted Pico as he walked in. The interior, at least compared to the outside, was actually a bit cozy. The loud, eccentric voice came from the blue haired barista that was standing just behind a counter that stretched across the café. On the opposite side, where the front door was, were a few tables with some people idly sipping their drinks. Pico looked through the cafe as he meandered toward the front counter - he couldn’t recognize any of the people as his date, his worst fear unfolding in his mind as he stepped forward.
“...you okay dude?”
“Huh?” Pico snapped out of his thoughts as he realized the barista from before was speaking to him.
“You look a bit shook dude. Want a drink to help?” The boy smiled, and Pico, blushing from embarrassment, nodded.
“I’ll take literally anything.” Pico said with a sigh.
“The Literal Anything, got it!”
Pico was left in the dust as the barista got to work on his drink, and as he scoured the menu to find just what exactly he ordered, his drink was already done.
“Uh, what did you make me exactly?” Pico inquired, hopping onto a seat at the counter.
“Oh, well, I just put a bunch of different ingredients that I thought would work nicely together. Chocolate, some sweet fruit flavoring, milk, honey, sugar, and of course a shot of espresso! I call it, the Literal Anything!” The barista - BF, as it stated on his nametag, Pico noted - said.
Pico, suspicious, took a sip of the mixture and tasted it, before deciding that he liked it. BF looked at him with a curious glint in his eyes, as if he was waiting for his approval or not. As he drank it down, Pico gave BF a onceover.
He looked to be a pretty good looking guy. His blue hair was definitely the standout trait about him, and the cap he wore with it made poof out like he was some kind of rock star. He wore your standard barista outfit, with a red apron over a white shirt and jeans. Pico took note of the different buttons on his apron, ranging from music notes to a pride flag - wait, a pride flag?
Oh, right, the drink, Pico interrupted himself. He looked at BF once again, the latter’s eyes desperate for an answer.
“Uh, yeah. It’s good.” Pico said, giving BF a thumbs up as the barista jumped for joy.
“Consider it on the house!” BF said, then leaned in closer with his hand to his mouth. “Just don’t tell my boss. I give too many drinks to this one girl already.”
Pico scoffed a little at the comment. A girl? Is he not...
“And of course also for the fact that you seemed a little out of it.” BF continued. “Did something happen? This is your first time here, no?”
Pico took another gulp of his drink - which, by the way, he thought was actually absolutely to his taste - and looked around the shop again. Still no sign of his date. Letting out another sigh, he pulled out his phone.
“Did you happen to see anyone who looked like this here today?” Pico loaded a picture of his date onto the screen to show to BF.
“Oh, yeah!” BF exclaimed. “He was just here about a half hour ago. Kind of cute too.”
Pico nodded, listening intently as he sipped. So he swings both ways.
“Told me he was waiting on some loser or something, if he could even find this place to begin—”
BF stopped talking as he saw Pico’s face go noticeably dark.
“...Oh. You’re the loser.”
Pico winced with his drink in his mouth.
“No need to rub it in…”
“Oh, sorry!” BF clasped his hands together in forgiveness. “I say a lot of stupid stuff out loud every now and then. Uhm. Uh…” The barista looked around, earnestly trying to think of a way to change the conversation.
“Well, what’s your name anyway?” BF asked.
“...Pico. What’s BF short for?” Pico responded back.
“Huh? How did—” BF looked down. “Oh. Right. It’s short for Boyfriend!” He laughed as he forgot about his nametag, for what Pico thought was probably a common trait of his, just from this first impression.
“Boyfriend, huh? Interesting name.”
“Yeahhh, my parents are sort of idiots. Guess that’s why I’m such a mega-idiot.” BF explained, sticking out his tongue with a pose.
Pico smirked. This boy is kind of cute, he thought to himself.
“So anyway, this is your first time here then? Do you like it so far?” BF poked at him with yet another question. Pico wasn’t entirely the social butterfly, but he wasn’t so much of an asshole to deny this boy, especially after he made him such a good drink.
He looked around the place for the third time, giving it a good look through this time, not paying attention to face. From his counter he faced the front door, and saw framed art of musicians and music all across the walls. Neon lights that were turned off were affixed above the windows, and mangled blinds were rolled up as the light from the outside poured in. Pico noticed a shelf on one side of the café that was filled with albums and records, and when turning back to the counter side where all the drinks were made, he finally saw the TV that was plastered just above him.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Pico hid his enjoyment of the décor. He wasn’t much for emotion, and certainly didn’t want to seem like a fool in front of BF. At least, not just yet.
“That’s great!” BF said, his eyes sparkling with praise and ambition. “I did a lot of the decoration work myself. I’m kind of the only barista that works here, aside from my boss who just runs the place for cash.”
Pico smiled at the eccentric barista’s words.
“Well, hopefully this isn’t my last time here then.” Pico said. “You seem like a pretty nice guy yourself, judging from how much work you put into everything.”
As soon as Pico finished his words, he knew he should’ve held back, because before he even realized, BF was practically sobbing.
“That’s….that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to meeee!” BF said, hysterically. Pico looked around, cautious of the other patron’s stares, but it seemed that everyone else was just minding their business chatting, reading, or doing whatever the fuck.
“Uh, BF?” Pico called out.
BF stopped mid-fit. “Yeah?”
Pico paused at the sudden change in demeanor. God, he’s adorable.
“I take it you’re a music person?” Pico asked.
BF’s expression changed into one of pure shock.
“How do you know so much about me?!”
“Well, it’s kind of written on the walls.” Pico gestured towards the walls, music plastered on them. “Literally.”
BF laughed. “Right. Well, yeah, I am kind of a music person. I sing, rap, make my own beats, that sort of thing. I also play some instruments, but I’m not that good really.”
“That’s really cool actually. I’ve always wanted to play something. I only rap along to my favorite songs.” Pico took another sip from his cup, but found it was nearly empty. “Er, mind giving me another one of these? I’ll pay this time.”
“Oh, absolutely!” BF saluted him, then took his empty cup back to fix him another. “And don’t worry, just pay next time you come in!” He said with a wink.
Pico smiled. As he waited, he noticed BF was looking back and forth at him and the ingredients laid out everywhere, and Pico soon feared the worst.
“You...having trouble there, BF?”
BF froze instantly.
“I, uh…how do I put this…” BF turned around cautiously to meet Pico’s eyes, his blue hair flattening with his nerves.
“Do...do you not remember what was in the drink?” Pico asked, hoping this wasn’t the case with all his might.
BF nodded slowly.
Pico breathed a heavy sigh. Okay, so he’s also kind of a dumbass, Pico thought. Well, he did say so himself.
“Lemme help. You said it was chocolate, fruit, milk…”
As Pico helped jog BF’s memory, he found himself noticing a few more things about the barista. How he would not care for measuring, only pouring out what felt right to him. Or how he would always put everything he took out back in it’s rightful place as if it were second nature to him. Or how he would stick out his tongue as he made the mixture, earnestly hoping to perfect the drink he had made before.
BF noticed him staring, and gave him a thumbs up and a wink to confirm that everything was just dandy.
Wow, Pico thought, his mind ablaze. Fuck my date. I want this man now.
“Here you go! One Literal Anything!” BF presented to him his cup refilled, and Pico took it eagerly.
Taking a sip, it was the exact same drink. Hell, it somehow tasted better. BF had a knack for this, but as soon as he met BF’s eyes once more, a devious plan formed in his mind.
“Say, BF, I think something’s a little different with this one.” Pico said. BF’s heart nearly shattered, his face contorting into failure.
“Oh no. I screwed up, didn't I?” BF laid his torso onto the counter, his body flattened out of depression. Pico couldn’t lie - he kind of enjoyed BF’s wide range of emotion.
“No no, I think you actually made it even better. Here, try some.” He passed his cup to the barista, who picked it up and brought it to his mouth to sip.
Indirect kiss. Score.
“Oh, you’re right! I didn’t even try the first one, but this is great!” BF piqued, and Pico swore in his mind that if BF had a tail, it would be wagging. Vigorously.
“I’m gonna write down everything you did to make this. It should definitely be on the menu.” Pico said. “Got a pen and paper I could borrow?”
BF nodded, and took some of his receipt paper out from the register, along with a pen nearby. Handing it to Pico, he watched as he wrote down all the ingredients onto the paper, then got it back from him. Reading the list, he noticed something peculiar.
“Er, Pico?”
“Yeah?”
BF showed him the piece of paper. “What are these numbers at the top?”
“Oh, that’s my phone number.” Pico said bluntly.
“Oh.”
A moment of silence passed as a customer left the café in the meantime.
“...Oh!” BF exclaimed, his face showing red.
“Yeah.” Pico said, looking to the side. How the fuck was I so bold just a minute ago?!
“...Well, thanks for the drinks, BF. I’ll get out of your hair now.”
As Pico got up to go, BF, flustered, struggled to get the next few words out of his brain.
He had never been hit on before so directly, so this was something he did not want to mess up. He had thought Pico was cute ever since he walked in, and was so focused on impressing him that when the moment came for him to make an actual move, he felt like he was fumbling. Hard.
“Er, wait, Pico!” BF called out. Pico paused, right as he was about to head out the door, and turned around.
“What’s up?”
BF gulped. “See you tomorrow?”
Pico smiled. What an idiot.
“See you tomorrow.”
“I’ll hit you up! Have a great rest of your day!” BF waved as Pico left the shop, a giant wall greeting him outside.
As he walked home, Pico took out his phone and deleted his ex-date’s contact info. Just as he did, he got a text message from an unknown number.
Thx for coming in again!!!
Pico smirked at the message as he replied.
Thank you for having me.
After saving the number under BF’s name, he locked his phone. The Back Alley didn’t seem like a place he’d ever come back to when he first found it. But now, well…
bzz
He looked at his phone as it buzzed with a new message, and a warm feeling crept up inside the boy’s face as he read it.
Of course!! Let's rap together next time, we have karaoke :D
He’d be back for sure.