Work Text:
Today's shift at the campus café of Pacific Tech was especially long and draining. A broken coffee machine, impatient customers and a staff shortage as everybody except for you and one colleague either had the day off or called in sick with a flu, which led to you working overtime. On a Friday, at that.
Just then, Chris Knight walked in. He very rarely went to buy coffee here as the dorm had its own coffee automat and many used that one instead if they didn't come here to socialize. But of course you knew who he was: one of the top ten minds in America. You had seen him in passing several times and his clothing style was quite distinct. Who else would wear a shirt that said “I love toxic waste” paired with an antenna hairband?
He made his way to you, sliding along the last meter in an attempt to be smooth, yet tripping on the dry parquet flooring and catching himself on the edge of the counter in a way that somehow looked cool despite him probably feeling embarrassed deep down inside. “Hello there, one coffee with some milk, please,” he ordered cheerfully.
“Sure, just a moment,” you said in the friendliest voice you could muster considering the circumstances. Swiftly grabbing a cup, you turned to the coffee machine and silently prayed it would work now after it already had for the last two hours. According to the apparent schedule, it must have been time for its break now.
Thankfully, nobody else was in line at the moment, but that also meant there was no sound except for an exasperated groan from your end.
“Need me to fix it?” Chris offered, leaning over the counter so he was almost too close when you turned around.
“That's not your job,” you mumbled, unplugging it before plugging it back in and pressing a button.
“C'mon, let me take a look,” he said and before you knew it, he was standing next to you, expertly fumbling with the components of the machine and explaining what was broken in a way you didn't understand — or rather, you might have understood it if you only had the nerve to pay attention right now. All you cared about was that it would function again.
“Now it should work.” He stepped aside to let you try it and you were relieved when you found it was, in fact, working again.
“Thank you, I couldn't imagine calling the manager another time today,” you said awkwardly, putting the money he gave you into the register and finally handing him his coffee.
“No problem, dear. If you need me, I'm at your service. Teamwork makes the dream work.” He bowed deeply and took a sip from the cup. “Mmh, this is a dream. See you!”
You weren't sure what the coffee at the dorm tasted like, but if he considered this a dream, he was either used to worse or exaggerating in his typical silly manner that was known across campus, even without sharing classes with him.
On Monday, he came back. His confident walk that looked more like dancing from the corner of your eye gave him away. That and the plush bunny slippers. You hadn't noticed them before, but you knew that only he would wear them out and about with pride. If he was wearing them while trying to slide up to you last week, that explained why he had failed.
“Hello Chris,” you greeted him before eventually looking up from the drink you were preparing to hand over to someone else.
“You're making me blush, I feel like a celebrity, yet I'm the starstruck one,” he grinned and propped his elbow up on the counter, resting his chin on his palm and looking up at you through his eyelashes. “The usual?”
You wanted to roll your eyes at that. He had only been here on your shift once before and you hated when people ordered ‘the usual’ as if you had nothing better to do than remember everyone's go-to order. But you went to make a coffee with some milk without further ado. Of course you remembered his order.
“Here you go! The sugar is-” You pointed at a small bowl with a wooden spoon on the other end of the counter.
“Oh, I'm looking right at it,” he interrupted you, biting his lip as his eyes wandered down your body as far as he could see and back up to your eyes.
A smile tugged at your lips and you hoped your makeup coverage was enough to hide the blush that was surely creeping up on your cheeks. You didn't know how to answer, so you simply said, “Have a nice day.”
As soon as you said that, you regretted not responding differently, but he didn't seem upset. He grabbed his cup and replied with a wink, “I am now, you too!”
He danced away and you couldn't help looking until he disappeared around the corner. This boy had a certain appeal, if only you could be sure his flirting was genuine…
Over the next weeks, Chris returned regularly, even if the coffee was more expensive than from the automat in the break room, where he saved even more money by throwing sliced liquid nitrogen from the freezer into the slit instead of coins.
At the moment, it didn't matter to him. He was not a struggling student who had loans to pay off, his scholarship took care of all of that, so he could treat himself to the near-daily slightly expensive coffee — and the sight of you. Both things that kept him awake until late at night.
Every time he visited, he flirted with you more than the last. You felt flattered and wanted so badly to believe that he meant what he was saying, but you couldn't. From his giggling and laughing that followed most comments, your bubble burst and you thought he was only kidding. So you decided not to engage at all.
You hated being played with and you would have felt especially stupid letting Chris Knight play with you. You did remember his compliments and pickup lines and nerdy references, but you only silently acknowledged them, reacting just as politely as you would have to any other customer.
You had to admit he was cute, very cute in fact. That full blonde hair, those striking green eyes, that gorgeous smile, those soft-looking cheeks. Who didn't have a crush on him? Surely some people didn't, but in your case he was also way out of your league. The looks were one thing, but the other thing was his reputation as one of the most intelligent people in the country.
He must have thought you were stupid because that was what a lot of people had told you in the past and which was why you had been rejected from many colleges. You knew that wasn't actually the case, but for some reason, the prejudice that chubby people were lazy and dumb was alive and well.
You were not saying he was one of those people per se because he surely would have treated you with less respect in that case, but especially for someone of his kind it was not too far-fetched. With his silly antics it was hard to tell seriousness packaged in lighthearted jokes apart from making fun of someone.
Meanwhile, Chris was growing more and more frustrated. Usually he was pretty straightforward, but as the subtle boldness wasn't working on you at all so far, he was not sure what else he could do now. He had been lovestruck since he had first walked into the café the day he had spontaneously fixed the coffee machine for you.
You didn't seem to be stuffy, which he very much appreciated as a lot of the intellectuals he worked with were. He figured you had a good sense of humor; he could tell by the way you smiled at every one of his statement pieces like the bunny slippers, the antennas, the graphic tees and the earmuffs in summer. His preferred silly type of flirting was a safe bet — or so he had thought.
However, the most he got in response was a giggle or a smile you tried to cover up, but usually it was a classic waitress phrase that left him wondering whether you were even interested in him.
Next time, he planned to directly ask you out on a date to get it over with. He enjoyed the chase, but he was too impatient to wait for the final result after months and months of courting someone who took the ‘no flirting at work’ policy a little too seriously.
By now, Chris had come here frequently enough for you to actually remember his order for a valid reason that wasn't just because you had a crush on him.
“Good afternoon,” he declared as the door swung open, smiling widely.
“Hey,” you called, grabbing a cup to make his coffee before he even reached the counter.
Chris felt his heartbeat speeding up. For one, because of the way you had started to prepare his coffee the moment he walked in, but mostly because he hoped the question he had — embarrassingly — practiced all the way here would get a positive answer from you.
“I was wondering if you wanna go out with me,” he asked without wasting any time, still beaming.
You rolled your eyes, grateful you had your back turned to him right now. You should have expected this. Asking you out as a joke or for a stupid bet, then laughing once you said yes, or not showing up, or going on the date and quickly dropping you.
“I don't play those games,” you answered without any audible emotions — at least you hoped you didn't sound as hurt as you secretly were.
“What games?” he asked, seeming genuinely confused.
“Getting asked out as a joke.”
“Wait, is that why you've been acting so dry?” His eyes were wide as he lifted his head from his crossed forearms that were resting on the counter. “I'm not joking.”
“You wouldn't be the first,” you shrugged, barely looking at him so he wouldn't catch disappointment in your eyes.
“What? No, I mean it,” he insisted. “You're beautiful and I think you're really nice, even if you always ignore my flirting.”
His pout combined with his puppy eyes that still had an earnest look to them told you he was probably not lying. After a pause, you tilted your head and said, “Okay, we can go out.”
“Fantastic!” As if you had flipped a switch, he resumed his lighthearted act, which wasn't an act but just his normal personality. “When is your shift over?”
“Today?” you asked and he nodded enthusiastically. “7 pm.”
“Good, then I'll wait,” he grinned. “Can't let a pretty girl work alone for so long.”
“You did for the whole last semester,” you teased, finally feeling like you could actually talk to him now.
Chris slapped his hand against his chest and put on a pained frown, exclaiming dramatically, “My God, where have I been?”
With a laugh, you went to take the next customer's order while Chris made his way to one of the few seats inside the café. For the remaining time, he sat there, slowly drinking his coffee when it must have already been cold, but he didn't complain. Every time you glanced over to him, his smile widened and he didn't seem to take his eyes off you, sometimes giving you a small wave or making a funny face.
“I must kick you out now, we're closing,” you said as you approached his table and took his empty cup away to put it in the dishwasher.
He hurriedly stood up and jokingly did a military greeting. “Of course, m'lady.”
After you finally clocked out, you went outside where Chris was waiting. He offered you his arm and you hesitantly slung your hand around his elbow. “Where are we going?”
“Uh… I didn't think I'd get that far, hah!” He turned his head towards you with that silly open mouth as if to laugh. “The drive-in? Stargazing? Ice skating? Anywhere in the world, just say the word.”
You chuckled and looked at him. “Ice skating? It's June.”
“In the dorm hallway it's possible,” he replied nonchalantly.
“Ah, crazy scientist, I should have known.” In fact, that was all the more intriguing to you. After everything you had heard about his unusual ideas and the mostly working implementation of them, you were curious to see it for yourself.
Chris grinned proudly. “Stick around and you see just how crazy I can get. Normally, I'd suggest grabbing coffee, but I don't want to bring up any work-related trauma. Though I could try my hand at playing therapist here too. Sigmund Freud!”
Frankly, the way he talked so much was endearing to you and you were glad this seemed to be a real date. “Well, I am interested in seeing your ice rink.”
“You got it, let's go!” He was visibly excited that you would let him show off one of his favorite scientific experiments with a practical and fun use. Besides, that would give him a chance to be close to you and play skating instructor.