Work Text:
♈ ♌ ♈ ♌ ♈
“He’s going to kill you one day,” Erica says, shaking her head when she sees that Stiles is putting chocolate into Jackson’s drink. Heaven forbid the workout god ever enjoy life and have some chocolate. He’s going to freak. Stiles gives her a smile. She rolls her eyes. “Your funeral, Stilinski.”
“Please. He loves it,” Stiles says, grinning. He moves over to the other end of the counter and hands Jackson the hot drink. “For you, Jackie.”
“Quit calling me that,” Jackson sneers. “Did you get it right for once, Stilinski?”
“I’m sure you’ll let me know if I didn’t,” Stiles says, with a bright smile. “How’s lacrosse been going?”
Jackson stares at him like he’s stupid. The truth is that Stiles has been crazy about Jackson ever since Heather’s End Of High School party two years ago. Jackson had gotten so, so drunk. It’d been adorable. Stiles had also been almost as hammered, and they’d somehow ended up alone in a bedroom together. Erica’s heard the story enough times that whenever he brings it up, she mouths the words with him. But Stiles can still remember how good Jackson had felt grinding up against him in the dark.
It’d been a year after that party before they’d run into each other again. Now, Jackson’s always coming into the coffee shop that Stiles works at and grumbling because Stiles never gets his order right. The first time had been a mistake. He’d been so nervous with Jackson…hot, attractive Jackson, standing there staring at him. He hadn’t been paying attention.
Then Jackson had stormed back to complain about his order. It’d been such fun talking to him that now Stiles does it occasionally just to get a rise out of him.
“Lacrosse is fine. Why would you care about that?” Jackson demands. Stiles feels redness crossing his cheeks.
He had thought he’d done such a good job at playing it cool. He tosses his hands in the air. “Listen, dude, I was just making conversation. Sorry if that upsets you.”
Jackson watches him, as though he’s waiting for a catch. Then he sits down on the stool at the counter and says, “It’s alright. McCall isn’t doing so badly either. He’s your friend, right?”
“Brother,” Stiles corrects. “Technically, step-brother. His mom and my dad got married.”
There’s a small nod of acknowledgement and then Jackson lifts the drink to his lips. Stiles holds his breath. Here it comes. But then Jackson’s setting the cup down. “The chocolate’s not so bad.”
Stiles’ lips part and then he says, “I thought you should mix it up. I mean, your drink order is so boring.”
“At least I don’t drink my coffee black,” Jackson says.
“Like Erica does? God, I know. It’s so gross. I only ever do that if I’m pulling an all-nighter to write an essay. I can’t sleep with that awful taste in my mouth,” Stiles rambles. “I think it keeps me up more than the caffeine does.”
Jackson shifts on the stool and looks down at his coffee cup. Quietly, he says, “I have to go to class.”
“Right.”
“Stiles!” Erica says from the other side of the counter. “I’m getting a bit behind here. As much as I am all for your littlething you two have going on, I need some help.”
“Coming!” Stiles says back. He looks at Jackson and nods. “See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.”
Before Jackson stands up though, Stiles asks, “Why do you keep coming back if I always mess up your order?”
Jackson meets his eyes and says, “Maybe I don’t mind so much.”
Erica’s yanking Stiles back to his station and Stiles is watching Jackson leave in a confused daze. Erica snaps her fingers in front of his face. “Stiles, Stiles. Don’t get useless on me.”
He jumps as if he’s waking up, and launches into action.
♈ ♌ ♈ ♌ ♈
“Stiles, can you just get my order right for once?” Jackson asks, holding out a cup towards him. Stiles takes it and shrugs.
“I could. But it wouldn’t be as much fun.” Stiles starts making Jackson’s actual order. “You seem stressed out today.”
“I have a huge final tomorrow. I don’t feel prepared because lacrosse has been taking up so much of my time. I can’t seem to concentrate in the library,” Jackson tells him.
“Try studying here. I can’t study at the library because it’s too damn quiet. It makes it hard to focus. I find public places are easy to tune out,” Stiles suggests. He shrugs. “You don’t have to though.”
Jackson taps his fingers against the counter and then shrugs. “What the hell? It can’t hurt, right?”
He settles down at the end of the counter, spreading his textbook, papers, and laptop in front of him. Stiles sets down his correct order and hums when he goes back to work. Strangely, it was nice for Stiles to have Jackson sitting there.
Every so often, he’d look over to see that Jackson was still working. Stiles wonders, not for the first time, if Jackson ever thinks about that night at Heather’s party. The panting, the moaning, the secret touches, and the light kisses. Stiles is not going to get hard at work. But Jackson is biting down on the end of his pen and Stiles has to turn away.
“How are you doing, hot stuff?” Erica asks, keeping her voice low. She doesn’t look at Stiles as she cuts a piece of cheesecake for the hottie in line. “You’ve been a little quiet today.”
“I’m good,” Stiles answers. “I just can’t help it. He’s so attractive and…I just wish I could redo that night.”
Erica looks at Stiles now. “Honey, he got spooked. It has nothing to do with you.”
Spooked is one word for it. Stiles glances at Jackson. Fuck, things had been getting so hot and heavy and then…then Jackson had been shoving him off and having a mild panic attack about how he wasn’t gay. Stiles knows that he’s not homophobic in the least. Jackson had once beat up a guy for making nasty comments about his best friend, Danny. That had been in grade ten. No one had messed with him or Danny after that.
But apparently, the thought had never occurred to Jackson. Stiles had sworn he’d never tell anyone about it. Of course, he’d told Scott. And Erica. And Allison knew because of Scott. Plus Lydia knew. But that’s it. That’s where it ended. His friends didn’t blab to anyone.
“I know,” Stiles murmurs. Still, he can’t help but wonder if he had slowed things down for Jackson instead of rushing…maybe Jackson wouldn’t have felt it was going too fast. Maybe he wouldn’t have panicked. Maybe the night would’ve ended on an entirely different note.
“Here you go, handsome,” Erica says, smiling at the customer in line. She gives him a wink and leans forward to say, “I wrote my number on the inside cup if you want it.”
Stiles waits until the hottie finds a seat in the corner of the coffee shop before he says, “Since when are you giving your number out to boys? You have a strict rule about that.”
Erica shrugs. “He comes in here all the time and he always makes my panties wet by smiling at me. What can I say? I’m a sucker for that face of his. And body. Look at him.”
Stiles does and he makes a noise of approval. No one else is in line so he touches Erica’s arm as he passes her. He makes his way over to where Jackson is studying and bends down to pull out a plate.
“How is it going?” he asks.
Jackson glances up. “It’s better than the library.”
“That’s good.” He drops a brownie onto the plate and pushes it in front of Jackson. “Have a snack.”
“I don’t–”
“I know you don’t. It’s Erica’s and she’ll be very upset if someone rejects her baking,” Stiles teases. “C’mon, one brownie isn’t going to kill you or your healthy diet. Besides, you always drink coffee. That can’t be much better for your system.”
Jackson lets out a laugh. “What can I say? Coffee is one addiction that I can’t seem to give up.”
“Aw, damn. Here I was hoping you always came in here for me,” Stiles teases.
“That too,” Jackson says as though it’s not a big deal at all. Stiles stares at him and Jackson shakes his head. “Stiles,c’mon, you must have known that you’re the reason I keep coming back here.”
“Uh, no. I most certainly did not.”
“Stiles there are about fifteen coffee shops in between my place and the campus. Why else would I keep coming back to the one where the barista always gets my order wrong?” Jackson asks, smiling at him now like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“You make a very good point,” Stiles tells him. “Why didn’t I ever consider that?”
“I don’t know. Why do you always mess up my order?” Jackson asks. “I kind of thought we might be…friends or something.”
Stiles grins at this. “I just like having an excuse to talk to you again.”
Jackson rolls his eyes. “I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for a while now. At Heather’s party…”
“It’s okay, dude. No need to explain. You weren’t ready,” Stiles says, shrugging. “I went too fast. I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t you who was going too fast. It was me.” Jackson shakes his head and says, “It doesn’t even matter. What matters is you were so cool about it and none of my friends heard about it.”
“Of course not–”
“And I want to say thank you,” Jackson says. His voice has dropped quite a bit and Stiles leans on the counter. He looks away, and Stiles can’t stop staring at him. “I know we didn’t really get along in high school.”
“Dude, that’s over and done with. Forgotten.” Stiles’ entire body hums. “And now? What would you like now?”
“I’d really like to take you out on a date sometime. Or maybe…skip the date and pick up where we left off two years ago?”
“Erica!” Stiles shouts, without taking his eyes off Jackson. “I’m leaving early!”
“What! You can’t do that. You have four more hours on your shift, Stilinski!” Erica calls back.
Stiles takes off his apron and lifts the counter so he can get to Jackson’s side. Jackson shoves all his stuff into his backpack. When he’s got his bag on his back, he slips his hand around Stiles’ waist.
“Stiles, get back here!” Erica shouts. “God, you suck!”
Stiles glances back to see the hottie come up to the counter and offer her help.
“Should you stay?” Jackson asks.
“Nawh, she’ll be okay. We have two years to get caught up on.”
♈ ♌ ♈ ♌ ♈
