book of mormon one shots

Coffee Shop AU

In all likelihood, Kevin Price's blood had been replaced with coffee.

At least, that's what the employees at his local coffee shop presumed. With the quantity of caffeine consumed by Kevin, doctors should have been studying his heart for seeming to be immune to cardiac arrest. All it took was one week of overnighters for his finals in freshman year, and Kevin had renounced his Mormon ideologies entirely for the bitter joys of coffee.

Now he was a regular, and every barista knew his order. He knew all the people who regularly made a visit to The Coffee Pot, including Arnold Cunningham, fellow student at his university.

Which is why it came as a surprise to Kevin when he swung by the coffee shop on his way to his morning classes one crisp autumn morning, and found a cute redhead he didn't recognize at his usual table.

The redhead didn't look up at the sound of the door, typing furiously on his laptop. Stickers from various musicals that Kevin vaguely recognized circled the apple icon. His leg was shaking up and down, rattling the small metal table. 

Ordinarily, Kevin would have cleared his throat behind him until he left, moved his stuff when he went to the bathroom, or something of that nature. It was basically his table after all, he was lucky that he wasn't charged rent at that point. But something about the red haired boy intrigued him enough to be civil.

James, a dark haired barista who was nearly as tall as Kevin smiled and handed Kevin a drink without him needing to order. Kevin grabbed his requisite sugar packets and turned back to the boy at his table. He slid into the seat opposite the stranger.

"Mind if I sit here?" Kevin asked, plastering on his best 'everyone loves me and you should too' smile. The redhead jumped, flustered.

"Oh, no..." He said with trepidation. He immediately struck Kevin as the kind of person who would rather be polite and uncomfortable than avoid conflict. Kevin wondered what that was like.

"Okay, good, because I usually sit here," Kevin said, immediately realizing how much of a pompous brat he sounded like.

"That's...nice?" The other said, clearly wanting to return to his work, but not wanting to seem rude. Kevin ignored all the social cues that told him the redhead wanted to be left alone, and stuck out his hand.

"The name's Kevin Price."

The redhead reluctantly shook Kevin's hand. "Connor McKinley."

"Are you a student around here? Haven't seen you before," Kevin continued, attempting to keep Connor in the conversation. Connor sighed under his breath and shut his laptop with a soft click.

"Yeah. I don't usually study outside of my dorm room but my roommate brought a girl home and that's a little too straight for me." His fingers tapped on the edge of the laptop, obviously anxious to finish his project or assignment.

Kevin's face lit up. Musical stickers, straight jokes? This guy definitely played for his team. Kevin looked for ways to keep him engaged.

"So clearly, you're a football player, right?" Kevin joked. Connor shifted a bit uncomfortably in his chair. Was this guy really going to waltz in and interrupt him just to make fun of him?

Kevin noted Connor's change in demeanor. "Why are- Oh God, no- I meant- your stickers." He gestured at Connor's laptop. 

The tension melted out of Connor's shoulder and he laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm actually getting my BFA. What about you?"

"I'm doubling up right now, trying to decide between journalism and law."

"Who's holding you back?" Connor asked. Kevin was a bit shocked at the turn of conversation, considering how little Connor seemed to want to talk to him up to that point.

"I- What?" Kevin sputtered, his turn to be flustered. 

"I don't mean to assume," Connor explained. "But I've seen it so many times in theater. Guy from strict family decides he'll pursue arts as his minor or second major to what his parents want him to do. Usually med school, teaching...law school." 

Kevin was a little rattled by such an accurate read from someone he had just met. "Um, yeah...you aren't wrong. It's kinda hard to let go of that 'Straight Mormon Boy from Utah'." 

Was it only his imagination, or did Kevin see Connor's face fall just a bit when Kevin called himself straight?

"Me too!" Connor said, his positivity managing to outshine his disappointment. "I was never good at the whole...straight thing...though..." His sentence trailed off. His confirmation felt like a little victory for Kevin and his gaydar, though his ego really didn't need any more of a boost.

"It's really no big deal, if I had tried coffee sooner, I probably would have left the church anyway, even without the whole...you know." Kevin said. 

Another barista, this one diminutive in size, lifted up the partition on the counter and made his way over to their table. "Want your second coffee, Kevin?"

Kevin looked down at his first coffee cup, realizing it had grown cold in his distraction. "Oh, thanks Chris." He took the fresh coffee from him, trading out the cold one. Chris shot him a knowing look, winked, and was gone. 

"You must come here a lot," Connor remarked as Kevin sipped his drink.

"Often enough to know the workers. Hey, you might know Chris, he's studying lighting?"

Connor shook his head. "I'm usually more in front of the lights, but I'll keep an eye out for him." 

"An actor, huh? You must have all the boys falling at your feet then."

Connor blushed almost as bright red as his hair. "That doesn't really seem to be the case, unfortunately. The scrawny carrot top look that I've got going isn't always the most appealing, you know?"

"I think you're really cute," Kevin said earnestly. "You don't give yourself much credit."

The clock on the wall signaled a new hour and Connor checked his watch. "I gotta go to class. It was...nice meeting you." To Kevin's surprise, he didn't sound like he was saying it out of formality. He almost sounded...sincere.

They stood and Connor moved to slid his laptop into his backpack. 

"Wait!" Kevin blurted. "I think there's one more sticker you need for your computer."

"And what would that be? Where can I get it?"

Kevin laughed. "Custom made." He grabbed a sticky note pad from his backpack, scribbled something on it, and handed it to Connor. With one last smile and a jingle of the bell on the door, he disappearing into the swirling autumn leaves. 

Connor unfolded the post it note and read it. 

'555-6445 Text me -Kevin"

Connor had a feeling he'd be back to the coffee shop soon.

(Monday, June 11, 2018 3:27pm PST)