Chapter Text
Working as a barista to help pay for college expenses was a perfectly respectable trade; at least, that’s what Ori had to remind himself every day when a ridiculous customer would order a “triple-shot mocha espresso latte with no sugar and 1% milk and sweet ‘n’ low.”
On the plus side, the job had taken his stammering nervous, and fidgety personality into something fierce and sassy; it had also perfected his customer-service appropriate glare, as he could explain how unfeasible such a drink would be, and could they please be a little more specific in what they wanted? (He would then would be rewarded with the embarrassed look on the customer’s face as they adjust their order to something actually doable.) It was a look he and Bofur would call, “Bilbo’s Bitch-face”, because he was the one they learned it from. However, if they ever referred to it as such near him, they would be treated to that exact face.
Currently, Ori was kneeling under the counter, restocking the various coffee cups, lids, and napkins. They had received several boxes of the stuff that morning, and he was sick of playing real-person Mario in the back trying to evade all the boxes to get from one place to another. It was also a slow morning – the rush wouldn’t begin for another half hour so it was only Bofur and himself working at that moment. In his position he wasn’t able to see over the counter at the various customers that had trickled in and out all morning. Therefore, he missed the reason for Bofur suddenly doing a double-take; he only saw the action. Then, his friend abruptly dropped to one knee so he could be next to Ori.
“Take over for me on the register. Your future husband just walked through the door.”
“What? Bofur get back up there!” It was such bad form for nobody to be minding the register, even for a few minutes; Beorn may be an unconventional boss but he did care about things like this.
“Nope.” With that, Bofur stole the box of medium to-go cups from Ori’s hand, and pushed his elbow so he found himself standing abruptly to take his friend’s spot from behind the counter.
Without thinking, Ori gave the perfunctory, “Hello, and welcome to Bee’s Tea and Coffee,” Before stopping short.
Holy Hell – Bofur was the worst best friend.
The man before him was tall – about a head more than him, wearing a professional button-up collared shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, showing off the nicest arms and shoulders Ori had ever seen. He had tattoos along his forearms, and they disappeared into the sleeves, making him wonder how far up they went (and that was a train of thought he needed to silence now). His head was shaved, and Ori spied tattoos all along his head, and before he could stop himself he was wondering if they could be connected to the ones on his arm and how badly he wanted to check and find out- Stop.
No hitting on people who just want coffee. It was unprofessional. And rude.
Dori would probably have a heart-attack.
Nori would probably be very proud.
The man was also probably a professor with the way he was dressed (and that made him so much more attractive but that was also even more inappropriate Ori wanted to die).
Ori wanted to melt into the floor, or at least kick Bofur who he could feel snickering next to him.
“Is there anything I could get you?” He just knew he was blushing. Sudden social interaction did that to him – made him stammer a little no matter how much he hated it. Thankfully he still had his scarf around his neck which hid just how far down the blush actually went. Sometimes Bilbo would affectionately call him his lovely tomato. Ori needed new friends.
The man wore a scowl on his face (Ori hoped it wasn’t out of anger at him), shifted in front of him, and then took a look behind him to see if there was a line – there wasn’t. He then leaned forward, as if to convey a deep secret. Hesitantly, Ori leaned in to hear him.
“You…. have pumpkin now?” He kept his voice so low Ori almost didn’t catch him. With the secretive nature of the question, the innocent question itself threw him off.
“Pumpkin?” He repeated a few decibels louder, only for the man to scowl (even more) at him.
Ori lowered his voice to match the customer. “Yes, we just added pumpkin spice to our menu for fall.”
“I’d like a coffee with it.” He must be one of those overly masculine types afraid of others overhearing, which was both ridiculous and adorable and really Ori was doomed.
“Alright.” Ori began to write the order on the cup. Usually, that was all he did, but before he could stop himself he looked up and added, “You know, our blueberry muffins pair well with the coffee.”
There’s a second where the man’s glare intensifies, as if he can’t decipher if Ori is teasing him or not. “I mean, I’m not an expert on food or snacks,” Ori admits, letting his eyes drop down to the cup. “I just.. the blueberry muffins here are my favorite and I get them with the pumpkin spice. Can I have your name?” Realizing how forward that sounds Ori adds on, “For the order?”
“Dwalin.” The glare lessens, and Ori would like to believe it softens. “And, if you like it, I’ll take one of the muffins as well.” Relieved that he hadn’t embarrassed himself further, Ori gives him a bright smile and rings him up, promising no more than a five minute wait. Dwalin nods and walks away.
The minute Ori’s shoulders relax, Bofur pops up right next to him.
“Why didn’t you ask him out!” He whispers, and Ori scowls at him.
“You can’t come onto someone like that! It’s rude.” Bofur’s mature response is to roll his eyes and nudge his hip at Ori to stand behind the register again.
Ori ignores him and focuses on making the coffee. When he’s done, he sets it on the counter so it can cool for a few minutes, and he heads to the display case to grab the muffin he’d recommended.
“Ori, do not take that muffin.” Beorn emerges from the back, followed by Bilbo and Bard, who’ve just clocked in. Once upon a time, Ori would have stammered and blushed before explaining that it was for a customer. But he’s come a long way since he was a scared freshman.
Now he glares at his boss and snippily replies, “Well, unless we’re now thieves, I can’t very well not give someone a pastry they paid for.”
The lip from him causes Bard to wear a pained expression (but that is also his face), but Bilbo looks like a proud parent so he counts it a win.
Beorn snorts in amusement (which is typical whenever he gets sassy). “I have new ones for you to give. You can have that one and go on your break.”
“He can take it to the handsome bloke that ordered it – he’s the lad’s type and everything.” Bofur adds, and Ori really needed to get better friends yesterday, because he can already see Bilbo looking about the tables to find him. And, sure enough:
“It’s the bald one isn’t it?” Ori growls at him. Beorn looks amused, as he usually does whenever the three of them work a shift together, and lets Ori go.
Before Ori can escape from behind the counter, Bofur calls after him, “I’ll bring you a pumpkin spiced latte- I hear they’re good with the muffins!”
If he weren’t dating his brother Ori would end him. Slowly. With a stirrer.
He walks over to the table Dwalin is seated at. The other man brought out a manila envelope and is marking several papers with a pen, so he is most likely a professor, like Ori had presumed.
“Hello.” Ori hates his voice for stammering. It’s not fair how attractive men make him lose his confidence! Dwalin seems to jolt in surprise and it’s just not far how cute it is.
“Didn’t think I’d warrant table-side delivery.” That, coupled with a sly smile will be the reason Ori dies young and beautiful.
“My boss decided I could go on break, and to bring you your order while I’m at it.” Ori replies.
“Lucky me.” And it’s official, this handsome flirty customer will slay him.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” Despite wanting to immediately take the offered seat, Dori ingrained enough manners in him for Ori to ask if he’s sure.
“You just seemed very busy.” He eyes the stack of papers upside-down – they appear to be essays.
“You’re a welcome break from grading.” Dwalin replies, taking a drink of coffee. Ori subtly adjusts the scarf to hide his blush as he sits down.
Dwalin continues, “These kids are engineers, not writers, and I couldn’t take it anymore.” Ah, he was from the engineering department. No wonder Ori hadn’t recognized him.
“Are you a professor?” Dwalin barks out a laugh, and shakes his head.
“Nah laddie, I could never. ‘m a TA. This is my last year of grad school. You?”
“Third year, undergrad. History and pre-law.”
“Sounds nice. Means you probably write well.”
“I do alright.” Ori takes a bite of his own muffin. Before the silence stretches, they get interrupted by Bofur.
“Hello there, Ori dear I have your pumpkin spiced latte.” With eyes that he hopes convey how much he wants to end him, Ori gives a sweet smile and chimes a, “Thank you Bofur.”
“Is everything here to your liking?” Bofur then asks Dwalin, because it’s Bofur and he has to overstay his welcome.
“Everything’s fine.” Dwalin replies, giving Ori an amused look.
“Well that’s good to hear. Enjoy your snack. Ori gets off work in three hours and likes the cinema.”
Ori nearly spit out his coffee as Bofur ruffles his hair and saunters away.
“I..I.. don’t listen to him!” He pleads.
Dwalin raises an eyebrow.“You don’t like the cinema?”
“No. I mean, yes. I …” He buries his face in his hands. Damn Bofur. Except maybe all hope isn’t lost, because Dwalin starts to chuckle.
Ori looks back up. If he looks happy, and hasn’t left, he clearly can’t still be there out of pity so maybe there’s hope.
“I do like movies. And pumpkin. And blueberries. I also have nosy friends. But in three hours I don’t have to see them anymore.”
“I like movies too. And I think you have good taste in snacks, though I’m not so sure about friends.”
That earns a weak smile from him. Dwalin continues, “But how about I pick you up in three hours, and I can see what your taste in movies is?”
Ori smiles at him. “I’d like that.”
“Why don’t you write your number on this cup, and I’ll see you tonight.”
After he does, Dwalin asks if he wouldn’t mind a kiss on the cheek (and who seriously asks that anymore? Ori was thisclose to proposing) and Ori walks in a daze back behind the counter as a line starts forming for their before-lunch rush. The daze ends when Bilbo asks if his lovely tomato just got a date, and he and Bofur laugh when Ori declares their friendship over.