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Pete yawned and ran his hand through his bleached hair. He was one of the only ones with the noon to five shift at the coffee shop his friend Brendon owned. Brendon had hired Pete and a few of his other friends since they were all in college and needed money desperately. Brendon had opened the shop with money his rich father gave him, the older man telling his son that 'he needed to make his own money instead on constantly 'borrowing' some'.
"Pete, hottie five o'clock," one of his colleagues, Hayley told him, winking as she walked into the back with a stack of mugs. Pete looked up and saw a guy who was shorter than he was (which was hard to do).
The man was slightly chubby and wearing a cardigan, t-shirt, skinny jeans, and boots. On top of his adorable strawberry blonde head was a black fedora, and he was wearing glasses of the same color. Just Pete's type. "Uh um, hello," the man muttered. He appeared to only be about 23, the same age as Pete.
"Hi," Pete smiled, causing the red haired man's cheeks to turn slightly red.
"Uh one medium hot coffee, milk and sugar please," he murmured, looking down at the counter. He removed his hat long enough to fluff up his hair, before replacing it quickly.
"Anything for you," Pete shamelessly flirted. "Name for the cup?"
"Patrick," the adorable guy, Patrick, muttered, finally looking up at Pete and smiling slightly.
"Well Patrick," Pete practically purred, "I'll call you back when your coffee is ready." Patrick nodded thankfully and paid Pete the exact amount of money, before retreating to a table in the corner.
Just then, Pete had a terrible idea; so he followed through on it. He grabbed a medium cup and put decaf coffee in it, and then some creamer instead of milk and vanilla flavoring. What? He wanted to talk to Patrick again, so yeah, he practically poisoned the man's coffee. He beamed to himself as he put the lid on and walked over to the counter. "Patrick, your coffee is ready!" He called out. Patrick smiled and took the cup, heading back to his table. Pete discreetly watched until finally, two minutes later, Patrick took a sip.
The man looked visibly shocked, and nearly choked on the drink. Pete could almost hear the internal debate of 'should I tell him it's wrong or not?' before Patrick slowly stood up. Pete busied himself with looking like he was fixing one of the machines, as Patrick made his way back to the counter. "Um excuse me, um...Pete?" Patrick muttered. "I hate to bug you but, this coffee isn't, well um it's not, it's not what I ordered. It's got creamer or vanilla or something in it..."
"Oh, my bad!" Pete told him. "God that's...I don't even know where that order came from. What had you originally wanted? I'll remake it, free of charge." Patrick repeated his original order and Pete nodded, taking the horribly made coffee and throwing it in the garbage. Patrick went back up when Pete called him again, and blushed at the other guys smirk.
God I'd go on a date with him if he ever just asked, Patrick thought.
"Well check the side of your cup under your name," Pete smirked.
Patrick's eyes widened, Holy smokes did I say that out loud? "Yeah, you did," Pete grinned. "'Holy smokes'. Adorable." Patrick blushed as he returned to his seat, reading the message on the way.
Call me whenever you want to go on that date. -pete wentz (that's your extremely attractive barista's full name. Well, somewhat full. It's missing a few middle names and a Roman Numeral.) anyway. Call me.
Underneath was a phone number, followed by a winky face. Patrick ended up dialing that number at seven o'clock that night.