Barista Boy [Coffee Shop AU] (Maxian)

☕ Chapter 4 ☕

The point at which he stood, Ian had become a well-known and welcomed regular to the compact establishment.

The young barista, who spent the most time working, had almost routinely greeted him with a common slur; cunt, and proceeded to make him his favoured beverage without so much as a word spoken about said drink.

Never was it acted upon with any real enthusiasm or drive, excluding the first day, but it was done well and at a pace which the young adult admired greatly. For such a little business, it had a service unlike any other he'd seen before, and he'd come to find it a place where he could unwind and relax a bit after a stressful day, or even before one.

The very thought of the shop cracked a smile on Ian's face, and he had to suck in a breath and wipe it from his features to be seen as somewhat normal while he pushed open the glass doors and was taken away by the bittersweet scent that had grown so feverishly on him.

His dark eyes ran rampant over the new, yet familiar scene, finding nothing out of order or particular uncommon, then he strolled over to the counter, where the teenaged barista was found, though his head was directed downward at a small gadget in his hand, biting his lips habitually as his eyes viewed the device behind thick-rimmed frames.

His brunette locks hung untamed over and around his face as he moved his fingers across the pads, and Ian had to wonder how he even saw whatever he was tending to.

"Excuse me?"

The Australian paid little attention, green eyes barely even making an attempt to meet hazels that bored on curiously.

"Fuck off, cunt. I'm busy."

"Yeah, working. So serve me," Ian demanded lightheartedly, folding his arms across his slim chest.

Max groaned in dismay, hating having being disrupted from his gaming, and tucked what Ian now recognized as an old Game Boy Advance away in his pocket, the very 8-bit sounding music stifling as it was confined.

The sound of machines roaring to life quickly overwrote it, and the American shook his head and mumbled a soft 'nerd' whilst his ramblings could remain unheard. He tossed the money from his wallet across to where Max would usually take it from, then sauntered over to his frequented stool, taking a seat and sighing.

"I'm surprised you actually got him to talk," a somewhat familiar voice uttered over the loud rumblings, "he's been playing that thing all morning. I was beginning to wonder if he forgot what English was."

Ian pivoted around to face the voice, only to be met with that odd kid who was constantly seated right there, no matter what time Ian had made his arrival.

"Oh, yeah? Well, you're welcome."

The odd character laughed, and the older was taken aback for a moment.

"I wasn't thanking you. He can be quite annoying once you get him started."

Ian had to throw in a chuckle at that, eyes wafting between the friendly teen and the ground a tad.

"I don't doubt that."

They had a minute of relishing the end of the dig, all in the meanwhile the barista peering watchfully at them from behind a wall of metallic machine backs as if he knew he was the butt of the joke, before the odd kid offered his name like it was asked of him.

"I'm Joji."

Biting his tongue to withhold a wisecrack about the name that often got him into trouble, like he did to get in the bad books of Max, Ian pulled up a genuine smile.

"Ian."

Joji grinned, and both were happy to be acquainted after a week of seeing one another without names to faces.