Coffee

Chapter 2

At first, John had thought he'd gone too far in his mission of annoying Sherlock. After storming out several days prior, John hadn't seen him once. He even considered the possibility that Sherlock was cheating on Coffee Co. with another café across town, but then decided that was stupid. Because, after all, Coffee Co. served the best coffee, and Sherlock wouldn't settle for anything lower than the best. That much John knew.

It was surprising, therefore, when on one drizzle infested Tuesday morning: Sherlock waltzed into the café with a spring in his step. John's eyes narrowed as Sherlock stepped through the doorway. Sherlock caught his eye and smiled cheerily, causing John to frown at the till while he sorted out a businessman's change. What was he so happy about?

"He's back," John felt an elbow in his side as Sally materialised next to him, pulling a large slice of carrot cake from the cake counter. He nodded as he handed back the change. "And he's smiling at you." She added, in case John hadn't noticed. "What do you think he wants?"

John shrugged. "Coffee? Just a wild guess though, don't shoot me if I'm wrong." As he looked up, Sherlock met his eye again and waved.

"I think he's pleased to see you," Sally grinned, walking round the back of him and giving the cake to a customer. John craned his neck.

"How can you tell from here? There's a dozen people blocking him. I know he's got long legs but-"

John winced as Sally smacked him over the head with her tea towel.

"Get your head out of the gutter." She scorned, but laughed all the same. "Not everything is an innuendo, John. You can tell if someone's pleased to see you by their facial features, not just by their trousers." John rolled his eyes.

"One large caramel macchiato coming right up," he said jovially, receiving several more orders as Sally stalked away to clear some tables. Soon enough, the queue had decreased considerably and Sherlock was one customer away.

To say that he was excited was an understatement. Sherlock had never shown the slightest interest in him before, and even though he knew that the guy was an arrogant prick, John still craved his attention. The way the low, orange lights caused the more brunette strands of hair to tinge a slight auburn, and the make the darker curls seem jet black in comparison were enough to make John's head spin. He'd only ever seen him in a scowl before, but God, he still looked good doing that. With this in mind, John was certain that if he could at least just prise a smile from those harsh lips, all would be well.

Indeed, John quickly learned to be careful what he wished for. No sooner had the thoughts of what a beauty Sherlock could be if he just smiled, was the very thing upon him.

This time, he didn't lean on the counter as Sherlock stepped towards him. Instead, he pulled out a cup, elevated it slightly, and waited for Sherlock to give his order. Professionalism was key.

"No pleasantries today?" Sherlock started, and John couldn't quite make out his face. So much for what Sally said, he thought bitterly. On a quick inspection of Sherlock's features, John plainly saw that his mouth was pulled in a smirk, but a frown still ran across it, making his true thoughts and feelings a tad transparent. Why couldn't he have been born a mind reader?

"Not if you don't want them, which you usually don't," John responded good-naturedly.

"Right." Sherlock nodded, before glancing away towards the menu. "I'll have an extra large 'natural blend'." He watched thoughtfully as John scrawled it across the cup. "And with that I'll have three espresso shots added- but I want each shot to have stood for one minute, and then added within thirteen seconds of one another. I then want a three pumps of caramel sauce, spaced out equally in the cup, and then white chocolate sauce pumped in almost exactly the same place as the caramel, only being off to the right a little bit-"

Half way through Sherlock's order, John had given up writing it down. With his pen still pressed against the cup, he looked up and glared at the exuberant customer from under furrowed brows.

"... Then I want you to pour it all out and do it again, just so that the cup has that pre-coffee feeling." The result of the long order was a beaming Sherlock, hands clasped behind his back as he rolled happily on his heels. "Oh, and the name is Sherlock, by the way. Try to get it right this time."

Unbeknown to him, John had been standing with his mouth hanging open for the most of Sherlock's speech. Finally realising that his mouth was now dry, he shut it and licked his lips.

"Alright," he started, leaning back. "I'll just let Sally know the exact details of your order."

As he turned around, he groaned as Sherlock's voice floated towards him again.

"No, I want you to make it. This one requires a rugby player's touch. Brutal, but nimble. If you get my gist."

John grit his teeth, completely ignoring the fact that Sherlock had mentioned his rugby. He put the cup down before whipping back round to face Sherlock, who was looking a bit too pleased with himself.

"That's a stupid order." John scorned, feeling the tips of his ears grow pink as he grew angrier. Not with Sherlock, mind, but mainly with himself. Because no matter how much Sherlock had succeeded in pissing him off, the guy was at last smiling, and that made John want to smile too. Not that he'd ever allow himself to do such a thing. No, if Sherlock wanted to win, he'd let him. And then come back with something equally more infuriating- if not more so.

However, as he studied him, John came to realise something. When he was pleased with himself, Sherlock's eyes twinkled. They sparkled at him, and soon enough John got lost in those magnificent things. He could feel his pulse hammering against his throat, as his heart fought to beat right out of his chest. He'd had crushes before, but this was something else. But the horrible feeling was, something about those vibrant blue orbs told John that Sherlock knew that he was crushing on him, and crushing on him hard.

No sooner than had he become lost in the depths of his subconscious, was John blinking hurriedly and looking away, slightly embarrassed by his sudden longing trance.

"Did I accidentally press the off-switch?" Sherlock asked, not managing to hide his smirk at all. John shook his head. "I think I did. I shan't trouble you with that order; I'll find a more competent barista somewhere else. But," John was watching helplessly as Sherlock turned to leave, "thank you for proving a point."

John stared at Sherlock's now retreating back.

"What point?" He yelled, growing hot in the face.

"That you," Sherlock began, turning slightly just so that John could make out his profile before he exited the café, "have the biggest crush on me that I have ever seen."

And with that, Sherlock left. Leaving a very distinctly pissed off (yet also embarrassed), John Watson in his wake.

I was not expecting that kind of response. Thank you so much! I'm going to try and aim for five chapters, although there may be more depending on how things go. So yeah. I hope that was alright? And thank you for reading :)