Work Text:
“Mocha for Jennifer, London fog for David, and oatmilk chai for Sarah,” you called, placing all of the drinks on the counter. A blonde woman, Sarah, thanked you and smiled as she grabbed the chai and left. You nodded at her, turning around to the register to take your next order.
“You’re not from around here,” noted the man at the counter.
“From the sound of it, neither are you.” you laughed. “What can I get started for ya?”
“Do you have a dark roast brewed?” he asked. You nodded. “Can I get two medium dark roasts with room for cream and sugar?”
“Sure thing. Can I get a name for those?” You replied, grabbing your pen.
“Oh, it’s—”
“Wanker!” interrupted an older man waiting in line behind him. You shifted to look at the man. “Just write wanker,”
“Excuse me, sir,” you began, ready to tell him off for being rude, but the man whose order you were taking waved his hand dismissively.
“It’s just a nickname at this point,” He said, turning around and waving at the guy before turning back to you. “The name’s Ted.” He paid for his drinks and went to wait on the other side of the bar. You blinked hard, processing whatever kind of exchange just happened in front of you. You took the other man’s order and got to making the drinks.
“Two dark roasts for Ted!” You called.
“Thank you,” he looked down to read your name tag, “Y/N. I appreciate you. Now I don’t mean for this to sound as creepy as it’s gonna, but can I ask what state you’re from? It’s always crazy meetin’ somebody over here that sounds like me. Makes me feel like I’m home for a second.”
“Hmm, how about I give you a hint and next time you order I’ll let you know?” you replied with a small smirk. He was one of the only people who’d ever been interested in you not being English, and you kind of wanted to know where he was from, too.
“Alright, I’ll bite,” he replied with a smile. You told him what region you were from. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to think. “Well, I guess I’ll see you next time, Y/N. You have a good day.” He picked up his drinks and raised one as if to wave at you.
“You too, Ted!” you responded.
Sure enough, he was back around the same time the next day, and the next. Talking with Ted slowly became part of your work routine. He would come in, you’d make his coffee, and you’d swap a little bit of information about each other. You learned that he was from Kansas. He was the new coach of AFC Richmond, the football league many of your customers wore gear supporting. You’d not gotten into the football hype just yet, but Ted was slowly convincing you.
Ted had become such a steadfast part of your day at work that eventually, you started preparing his drinks around the time you knew he’d be coming in. One day, however, Ted never showed. You’d had the cups labeled and ready, set aside so all you had to do was pour the coffee and hand them off, waiting to see him come in with his little wave as usual. About ten minutes after he typically arrived, a guy wearing an AFC Richmond hat came in and ordered the exact same thing Ted always did. He gave the name Beard, someone you knew only through Ted’s stories to be the assistant coach that came to England with him from Kansas. You filled the cups and handed them off, wondering why Ted hadn’t come in himself.
The rest of the day felt weird. It felt like you were constantly having rushes of customers. Your coworkers were moody. You kept running out of things you needed for drinks. It was like not seeing Ted threw off your entire day. When you finally got off work, you were exhausted. The last thing you wanted to do was go home and have to cook. Instead, you decided to head to the local pub for some comfort food.
The bells on the door chimed pleasantly as you walked through the doors and into the warmth of the pub.
“Y/N! It’s been a while, how are you?” the owner called from behind the bar.
“Hi Mae! I’m well, how are you?” you responded, smiling as you walked up to the counter.
“As good as can be, I suppose. I assume you want your usual?” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at you. You nodded, appreciating the comfort that you felt in knowing that Mae remembered you well enough to know what you were going to order. “Alright, I’ll bring it out soon.”
“Excuse me, miss,” someone tapped on your shoulder. You turned around and found yourself face to face with the man who’d been on your mind all day: Ted Lasso. “is it too late to order a coffee?”
“Hm, I’ve clocked out, but Mae might be able to make something work.” You laughed. “I was waiting for you this morning!”
“Aw shucks, you waited for little old me?” You nodded. “I’m sorry, I overslept this morning. This one”—he pointed to Beard behind him—“had to get our coffee so I could make it to the pitch in time. Speaking of, Y/N, this is Beard. Beard, Y/N.” You shook Beard’s hand, exchanging pleasantries.
“Alright, dearie, here you go,” Mae came up with your food and drink. You thanked her before turning back to Ted and Beard.
“Well, we were about to head out, but I’m looking forward to seeing you in the morning. I’ll try to actually be there this time,” Ted joked, bidding you goodnight.
“You better! Have a good night!” You smiled.
-
“So,” Beard began as he and Ted walked back to their flats, “I’m guessing that’s why you suddenly volunteered to get the coffee every day?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ted replied, looking at Beard with feigned confusion.
“You think I didn’t catch on when both our cups said ‘Ted’ even though I ordered them today? A little cafe au Lasso?” he smirked, moving his eyebrows teasingly.
“Oh, you better hush,” Ted replied, shoving Beard away as he turned to unlock his door, a smile gracing his face as he thought about how you said you waited for him. He hadn’t noticed that you’d written his name on the cup, but something about that made him feel giddy.