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No matter what the topic was, Green was always the first. For just about… anything, really. The first to be up and at ‘em in the morning. The first of his peers to evolve his starter pokém-
Eevee yawned right into his ear poignantly, startling him with the quiet snap of her jaw shutting again. He checked his poké-gear; more out of habit than actually caring to know- and it was the ripe, early hour of 9:23 AM. The little pokémon pressed her front paws down, further tenderizing his right shoulder, and he wrapped his scarf bundled around the two of them a little tighter.
…Okay, so maybe he wasn’t always first. But it did mean he at least got to skip the morning rush of everyone who worked 9-5 cramming in a tight line of Falinks at the only café in town with actually decent coffee. So it wasn’t quite a ‘you snooze, you lose’ type of scenario.
Pushing the doors to the coffee shop open with a gusto, Green hurried into the radiating warmth of the little dining area as if it were the only thing tethering him to any semblance of life right now. His blood rushed to his ears and face simultaneously at the sudden drastic change in temperature, but it didn’t mutually stave off a wide and smug grin of pearly whites. “Ding dong, old man! You get the grace of your faaavorite customer!”
His eyes only then landed on the very confused barista at the cash register, line completely empty just as he’d expected. But the face- that was new. And not exactly an old man.
“I-uh,” the usually-confident guy fumbled, knitting his own brow to match the furled black one on the dark haired newbie before him. “Where’s Lance…?”
The barista only blinked at him for a moment, unsettling in how little his face changed. It was like he hadn’t heard Green at all. Except he must’ve, because after an awkward beat too long, he just shrugged.
“You new here?” Green was no stranger to blurting words out with minimal care for tact, and the content of which this time piqued Eevee’s curiosity enough to make her pop out of their shared scarf and offer a mewl. The worker only nodded in response, but it was so minuscule that Green was sure that if he had blinked he would have missed it.
“…Whatever. Cool for him that he’s hirin’ more people I guess.”
The man gave the same non-response as before, his steely eyes practically slicing through all of Green with a jutting sharpness much akin to frostbite. He just blinked again, and then pointed to the screen. Ready to take Green’s order.
“…Oh. Yeah.” Green wasn’t sure why his throat felt more arid than a dry poképuff, but he hated it. “Café au lait, with oak milk instead of moomoo, add a splash of mocha.”
Unsurprisingly, he was met with silence, so he crossed his arms at the expectant gaze and cocked his head to the side to think of what he could be possibly waiting for with that stupid flat expression that was starting to grate on Green’s nerves. “…To go. For Green.”
The quiet trainee scribbled something hastily onto a cup and pivoted to make the drink without so much as a nod in acknowledgement, and Green rolled his eyes at the aloof attitude. “I was going to order a cookie for my Eevee, too, y’know.”
Nothing. If the black-haired guy had heard him, he didn’t give Green the satisfaction of a gotcha moment. Figures.
Scoffing, Green scratched his pokémon under her collar indignantly. The coffee was quickly made, and shockingly, his name was not called out when it was ready. The man just passed it onto the delivery counter that Green was standing beside, and rapped his knuckles twice on the granite to get his attention.
Green snatched it up, and caught a glimpse at the scribbled pen marks crowning his thumb as he raised it to his lips: in awful, truly awful handwriting, was ‘G-A-R-Y’. He scrunched his nose in disgust, pointing to it and shoving the cup back in the direction of the rude barista, just to chew him out what-for. “It’s Green, by the way. Like the color.”
The dude almost, ALMOST raised an eyebrow inquisitively, and that was all the more infuriating. “I know it’s weird, but get it right,” it only just occurred to Green that the man was wearing a name tag, so he quickly read it for an extra effort of making his point. “Re-“ The last letter died on Green’s tongue in his own befuddled disbelief, the 25 year old almost spilling his kalosian press drink in a lavish double-take. “What?? Really…? Your name is really Red?!”
He doesn’t know why he bothered to ask a question. It’s not like he was getting an answer. Although, if he didn’t know any better, he might misconstrue the huffed exhale through Red’s nose as the tiniest of laughs.
“Weird.” He said, as if his own name wasn’t the very same kind of strange. “Whatever. Smell ya.” Green waved him off as if he didn’t have a care in the world, turning heel and heading back out towards what remained of the bitter winter morning awaiting him. But, given his nearly-medical need to get the last word, he called out a snarky reminder to the new guy over his shoulder. “Next time I come, press me a roast that isn’t some shitty Paldean bean!”
…He listened.
Or, at least, when Green came by two days later, he was served a Kalosian blend in his ususal café au lait. Whether that was dumb luck or purposeful, he didn’t know. Once again, Red didn’t so much as utter a peep to him the entire interaction, just boring straight through him with that blank thousand yard stare that could probably burn a hole through just about anything. Not a single smile, not a single crack of the facade. The same happened later that week, and then the week after, too.
Green hated it.
It pissed him off to an ungodly degree, and he didn’t even know why. He didn’t care- dude made ok coffee, started sneaking Eevee small freebie biscuit cookies without Green even having to ask, and that was it. He even caught Red and Lance talking together behind the bar one day when the older manager was actually in: even then, it was a one-sided conversation.
Green would break him.
He didn’t know why it was such a personal vendetta, but it was. No matter what attempts at wit, joke, nor even accidental making-a-fool-of-himself to Red, nothing ever got anything more than an eyebrow raise at best. And at worst, a tiny shit-eating grin that had more annoying and smug energy than Green could ever hope to contain within his own.
Well, he was the first at something after all: he was the first to crack, after a week and a half’s worth of visits. At this point, he was almost pleased at the way Red already was punching a café au lait with his specifications into the system as a new order before he’d even reached the counter. Or, at least, he would be, if he didn’t practically hate the guy’s guts. “Fine.” Green spat out without even so much as a hello, and it's clear that Red was interested in what’s following based on the singular centimeter that his eyes widened. “What gives? Why’s Delcatty got your tongue? Are you doin’ it just to mess with me?”
He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, because it makes Red press his lips together in an amused smile that is blatantly at Green’s expense for thinking everything was about him. His nostrils even flared out, just a little. If Green weren’t burning up in heated embarrassment right now, he might almost be proud of himself for garnering such a large (well, large for Red) reaction.
Red’s hands move in an erratic way he hadn’t seen them do before, and it takes half a second for Green to realize it’s sign language. [Don’t Talk.] Red says plainly with a hint of a residual smile, but Green can’t read it for the life of him.
“Oh,” he sputtered out, speaking before thinking.”You’re Deaf?”
Red raised both of his hands to cover his face for a brief moment- for if he hadn’t, Green might have caught the borderline affection within the you are so stupid it amazes me scrunch of his nose. He shook his head ‘NO’ very adamantly after, breathing out an elated and entertained sigh as he tried to convey it more plainly. He pointed to himself, then made a straight line across his neck to convey DONT, quickly followed by opening and shutting his hand in a ‘blah blah blah’ way. Green put the puzzle pieces together this time, and tried (and failed) to smooth over his idiocy. “No, ‘course you can’t be Deaf. You wouldn’t answer me, or I would’ve noticed your cochlear by now.”
[Oh, you pay attention to how I look?] Red teased immediately out of instinct, but it fell flat due to Green’s inability to understand. He doesn’t know what Red’s said, but he can tell by the look on his face that it was something snippy.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just go make my drink…!”
Satisfied with a banter successfully won, Red bit his lip and pivoted to do just that. Mute or not, he was a quiet guy by nature, so he didn’t usually go out of his way to communicate with others. Not customer, nor coworker. He just clocked in, did his job well enough, and clocked out. He didn’t know why messing with Green was so appealing, but it was. He didn’t want to say that he’d begun to look forward to the freckled man’s appearance every other day or so, but… well, at least he’d gotten really good at making café au laits. With a premium Kalosian bean.
By the time that Green comes in on that Friday, he outright expects to see Red.
Oh how things change so quickly. Just two weeks or so prior the first snow had only just fallen, Eevee slept through the entire daily coffee run, and Green had demanded to know why Lance wasn’t around to take his order as he usually was. Now the streets were wrapped in lights and decorations, Eevee had already begun pawing impatiently in wait for her free cookie that Red always gave her before they’d even reached the door, and Green was almost frozen in place at the sight of Lance standing behind the counter the way he’d always used to.
His burnt red hair was graying more than Green remembered it, but he supposed that’s what running a coffee shop almost alone for years would do to someone. “Mornin’, kid.” The gruff greeting ripped the younger adult out of his shock, moving his feet toward the counter in some awkward sort of autopilot. It was familiar, but felt out of place this time around. “Let me guess: your usual?”
It’s Green’s turn to be the one only blinking in response, and he quickly discovered firsthand how much more expressive Lance is to the human equivalent of a brick wall he’s been socializing with. “…What’s a’ matter with you? Forget your order?”
And if Green is nothing else, he’s defensive. “What?? No!” He shoves his hands into his pockets and glares up at the older guy he was on friendly-but-icy terms with, huffing out a disgusted grumble. “Just surprised t’see you finally showing up, is all. Where’s the new guy…?”
He doesn’t know why he asked about Red. He doesn’t know either if he even cares. It just fell out of his mouth before so much as bypassing his brain for any sort of quality control check. He ground his teeth together in irritation at himself as Lance raised a challenging stare his way, already putting in the drink on the system. “Red’s on break,” Lance ignored the way Green all but shoved his card into the machine with bitter purpose, jutting his chin out in the direction of behind him and to the left. “Sittin’ right over there, if you’d been bothered to look.”
Green whipped around much faster than he would have liked, his eyes meeting the back of a messy black head of hair that was endearingly freed from the uniform cap at the moment. His jaw relaxed a tiny bit at the sight, but only for a blissfully fleeting moment; a boisterous laugh from the other side of the booth quickly informed Green that he wasn’t alone.
A brown haired girl their age sat across from Red, expressive enough in the way she beamed to make up for the both of them. She reached across the table and shoved at Red’s shoulder in a playful way, and Green saw both the most delightful and awful thing at the same time: a hand raised to cover Red’s mouth, to hide a smile. An unabashed expression in a way that was never directed at himself, in all the times he’d tried to break that cold exterior.
His stomach dropped down to his feet. The door to outside was shut, but it felt like ice was crusting over his veins. The transaction machine was beeping at him to remember to take his card back, but he didn’t hear it. Or didn’t care.
Green snapped his head forward again and ripped the payment card back out of the terminal, shoving it in his wallet without second thought. He grabbed his coffee the second Lance had finished making it, and hurried out to get on with the rest of his day.
The café au lait was bitter today. The beans must have been burnt. And thus Green didn’t even finish the cup, pitching it into a trash can haphazardly after three sips.
It was three days before Green decided to get coffee again. Maybe he was saving the money for the holidays, or maybe he just got a good night’s sleep. Or maybe for some other reason entirely.
When he did return, Red was back to his station behind the counter, and this time almost seemed to perk up when Green pulled the door open. Or maybe Green was just imagining things. Either way, he took his sweet time sauntering up to the empty ORDER HERE! line, and did his best to fight off the scowl that was forming hidden underneath his scarf. “Oh?” He addressed almost patronizingly, pulling the fabric down under his chin and practically spilling Eevee onto the counter in the process. “Your girlfriend not here to visit today?”
Red pursed his lips in deep confusion, before his face grew scarlet in amusement and he had to press his lips together to keep from laughing. Whatever was the joke, Green didn’t care to know. “Cafe au lait,” he spat out, watching Eevee being bribed back into his favor as he punched in buttons by heart. “With-” Before he could finish, the transaction had already loaded and was ready for payment. As if Red would need a reminder of his order at this point.
He held up a bag of the nice Kalosian blend to Green as a sense of peace offering, an even further showcase of the fact that he knew what he would like.
“...Yeah. Thanks.” Green conceded, and paid quietly as Red made his drink. He reached for the cup as soon as it was passed over the delivery counter in his direction, but Red placed his hand over the lid to stop him.
“What?” He asked, and Red tapped on the scribbled handwriting on the side of the cup with his forefinger as if Green were dense. “Yeah, I know it’s mine. No one else is even in line, dumbass.”
Rolling his eyes, Red picked up the cup and directly passed it to Green, his fingertips warm and inviting from having been inside all day when they touched Green’s, which were still chilled from the frosty weather. It was then that Green recognized that the writing wasn’t his name at all, but rather, a string of 3 words.
That’s my sister.
Green opened and shut his mouth multiple times in a futile attempt to sputter back some cool-headed reply as the words processed, and felt all the blood in his body rush to his ears. It was a good thing he knew Red hadn’t said anything, because all he could hear was the walloping of his own rapid heartbeat.
[Jealous…?] Red signed with a miniscule coy smile curling onto his lips, and even though Green didn’t know the sign, he could put context clues together well enough.
“As if…!” He bit back, face indignantly shocked at such a notion to even have been suggested. “More like surprised that someone as boring as you could get someone’s interest, DUH!”
Smooth comeback, truly.
Red just smiled in return, and for the first time, the smallest bit of his teeth poked out in it.
And just like that, all the humiliation had been worth it. Green stuffed his Eevee into his jacket and made haste to get the hell out of there before he could do anything else he might regret.
Green’s fingers traced over the shapes he’d practiced the night before as he walked towards the same stupid coffee shop he always did, his chest feeling tighter than a destiny knot. It wasn’t anything crazy or over the top. Just a completely normal, regular question.
He practically forgot it the second his hand touched the door.
Red looked up from the moomoo milk he was steaming and lit up in recognition, putting the hot metal down and giving Green a small wave as he wiped up any froth that had splattered. Green felt his stomach leap into his throat at the notion of making a fool of himself.
“Hey,” his greeting was uncharacteristically demure, which caught Red’s attention. The barista pointed to Green, then to the ordering screen, and Green could just tell from time spent together that he was asking if Green wanted his usual. “Yeah, yeah…! Just that’s fine.”
Red didn’t turn around and start making it the way he usually did. He was waiting to see what was following, because clearly something was up.
“Had a question,” Green pointed to himself, and then drew a question mark in the air. And then recited the signs he’d practiced, butchering them beyond recognition. But thankfully for Red’s sake, he spoke it verbally as he signed them. “What time… Do you… Get off work today?”
For the very first time, Red outright laughed in front of Green. It was breathy, and it was sporadic, and it was terribly endearing. He laughed so hard he almost doubled over, and his eyes were watering, because Green seemed to have forgotten he could hear. Just because he signed to communicate didn’t mean he couldn’t understand what Green was verbally saying. He didn’t have to try and muscle his way through signing it. He could have literally just asked.
It was awfully sweet, in a sense, though.
[...Are you asking me out?] Red fumbled over residual giggles, taking great pleasure in the way Green’s face had completely heated up. And in how his eyes were nearly crossed in flustered mortification.
“...Yes? No? What did I say in sign?? Why are you laughing?!” That only made Red peal off into snickers again, and Green desperately snatched a fistful of his apron. “RED! C’MON! WHAT’D I SAY?!”
Catching his breath with a wider smile than he’d ever shown before, Red reached up and placed one hand of his own atop of the fist on his chest, easing its grip delicately. For some reason, it almost felt like it burned on both ends.
Red held up a finger to denote one minute! and hurried off to make Green’s usual drink, canceling the transaction to consider it on him, his treat. And when the arduous minute and a half passed as Green awaited his answer, he returned to Green’s side and passed him the café au lait and a cookie, just as he always did. Only this time, it was punctuated with an infuriating, horrendous wink.
The door’s bell chimed, and unfortunately, it meant Red had someone else to attend to. But with shaking hands, Green reached out and gingerly lifted the cup, finding the terrible handwriting he’d come to enjoy scrawled over it as usual. He almost spilled it on himself in embarrassment.
2:30. It’s a date. :]