Spider-Man/Peter Parker One-Shots

Coffee Shop

Short lil idea for a quick read

You worked the morning shift at a coffee place that was relatively new to the area. You had gone here for coffee a few weeks ago, wanting to try the place out, and noticed that they were hiring. After tasting the extraordinary coffee, you decided to apply. And fortunately, they accepted you, and now here you were.

The job paid good and the customers were all willing to try something newーhence the reason they were at this new placeーwhich meant they were nice for the most part. Occasionally some guy or gal that thought they were going to be the next food critic would march up to you and demand to have something super complicated, and while you made it they eyed you in an almost threatening manner. But that happened only rarely, and if you had any other job that hired teensーnamely fast food placesーthe customers would be similar.

Today was a chill day, your favorite kind. Anyone who ordered coffee had simple requests and just went to sit down, no fuss or demand to know if you included a certain ingredient they asked to be in their drink.

You leaned against the counter and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what your afternoon classes would bring. You had no classes at the beginning of the day so you could work your job, and after noon you'd head over to the school to get in a few classes before heading home. It worked nicely, especially since the smell of coffee constantly in the air woke up you so you were prepared for class later.

The door opened and your head snapped down to see a customer enter, looking like a zombie as he walked up to you. He was around your age and had a backpack on his back, which had one zipper open that you doubted he knew about.

"Rough night?" You asked, making him look up. His eyes widened at seeing a cute girl and he quickly adjusted his clothes and ran a hand through his hair to try to look more presentable.

"Yeah," he replied, smiling awkwardly.

"So what can I get you?" You stepped aside so he could view the chalkboard with the items behind you, and his eyes scanned the options.

"Um, a pumpkin spice latte please," he looked back at you. You typed something into the register.

"What size?"

"Small."

"That'll be $3.37." He handed $4 over and you gave him his change. You turned from the register and started on the drink, feeling his eyes on your back. Unlike the future food critics, his stare wasn't burning holes into your back. It was more like the kind of look someone had when they were watching something that amazed them.

You finished and put the lid on top, then spun around and handed it to him with a smile. "Enjoy your drink."

"You too." He immediately winced after his words and you found yourself laughing. He blushed bright red, took his drink, and scuttled off to a table for two. You could hear his low mumbles of 'Great job' and 'Could you be any more embarrassing?' and you slowly shook your head. He really did need that coffee.

A couple minutes went by and nobody else came in, so you headed to the back room and grabbed a stool to sit on. Once you were back at your perch you felt eyes on you again, so you took a survey of the room and saw it was the tired boy. When he saw you notice he looked away, and you found yourself smiling.

You spotted a piece of paper sticking out of the register and saw it was the receipt you had forgotten to give the boy. A plan formed in your mind and you grinned, pulling it from its spot and placing it on the table.

Peter blew on his cup lid, more specifically the little hole that was cut out so liquid could come out of the container it sealed. He wasn't sure why he didn't just take the lid off, but perhaps it was because his brain hadn't fully woken up yet.

You walked up to the table he sat at and his eyes flew up instantly. You placed the receipt on the table and pushed it over to him.

"I forgot to give you your receipt," you winked and turned to walk off, making him confused. He picked up the receipt and saw nothing of interest on the side with his bill, so he flipped it and saw what it was. You had written your number on the back, along with your name.

You returned to your stool and saw him stuff the receipt in his pocket, smiling goofily. He stood from his table and headed for the door, clutching his cup with both hands. He turned his back to the door and pushed it open with his backpack, sending a smile your wayーwhich you returnedーbefore leaving.