SOTUS: The University Days (and Other Universes)

Hella Fucking Gay

a/n: another coffeeshop au!

(this is based on the hella fucking gay post on tumblr years ago.)

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Arthit slips off his apron and goes straight to the staff bathroom. He, then, stares at himself in the mirror for a good minute. There doesn't seem to be anything about his current appearance that differs drastically from usual, but something is going on.

He's been given four phone numbers today.

Confused, he gets the phone numbers written on paper napkins from his front pocket. Working as a barista during weekends for a year now, he knows all of the guys that gave him their numbers. They are his regulars, and one of them, Nick, has been obviously flirting with him whenever he gives him his latté, though he never entertains his advances.

But why would they give him their numbers? Also, four of them? In four hours? That's already half of what he has in his contacts list. He moves his face closer to the mirror. Maybe because I don't have eyebags today? Maybe because I slept—

Tutah peeks his head into the bathroom. "You okay there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just— does my hair look good today? Or something?" Arthit asks, a little desperately.

"No more than usual," Tutah answers, eyes alight with what he knows. "Why?"

"It's— Well, nothing. It's nothing."

"Well, if you're done with nothing, your favorite eye-candy just walked in the door, and he appears so very heartbroken that you're not around to serve him." Tutah waggles his eyebrows.

One day, Arthit will learn how to do that with his eyebrows just as obnoxiously as Tutah does, as soon as he gets control of the ridiculous heat in his face.

"How many times will I tell you? Kongpob isn't an eye-candy," he grumbles, casually running wet hands through his hair to smooth it down and straightening his still-perfectly-ironed shirt.

He has to brush past Tutah to make his way up front, which gives the latter a perfect opportunity to whisper. "The fact you know exactly whom I meant only proves my point."

Tutah cackles as Arthit pushes him through the bathroom door.

The thing is, Kongpob has been flirting with him for months now. Arthit noticed it when he realized Kongpob only orders his drink when Arthit is the one who would prepare it. After that, Arthit started feeling very conscious whenever Kongpob is near.

In a way, Arthit returns Kongpob's advances. Of all the guys (and girls) hinting their interest in him, he only responds to Kongpob, but he hasn't done anything more than giving Kongpob his rare eye smiles. Despite all of this, Kongpob hasn't asked him out or asked for his number yet, and Arthit doesn't want to make the first move either after embarassing himself so thoroughly during their first meeting.

But, with all the guys who noticed him, today is a good day for Arthit's confidence.

And Kongpob is right there looking as gorgeous as ever.

And so, after an inner deliberation for what seems to be a period of time longer than his shift, Arthit thinks, why not? Why not be brave?

So he decides to make the first move.

Thus, he makes Kongpob's iced cappuccino and writes his phone number and "text me sometimes" on the cup.

He comes around the counter to place the cup into Kongpob's lovely hands before returning behind the register and back to not making eye contact with him.

~

During the later part of his shift, Arthit is very busy. All of the cups in front of him need to be counted for inventory, and the syrup levels need to be checked. Also, he thinks something is wrong with the fridge.

"Tutah, I think the fridge isn't running cold enough. Come feel this," he shouts.

Except, it's Kongpob who comes to stand beside him, completely ignoring the café's policy about only employees being permitted behind the counter. Arthit would definitely say something about that, if only he weren't so distracted by Kongpob's beautiful eyes staring at him.

"This is all completely backwards," Kongpob says as he holds his cup. He seems exasperated... and fond. He definitely sounds fond.

"What?"

Kongpob reaches Arthit's front pocket and takes all the paper napkins with phone numbers on them (he saw two more guys giving Arthit their numbers). He then steps on a pedal that opens the trash bin near him and throws the paper napkins in it.

"The sign says I'm supposed to give you my number, not the other way around," Kongpob says.

"What sign?"

Kongpob uses his thumb to point at the chalkboard outside the coffeeshop's door. Arthit darts towards it and allows his jaw to fall.

The board states, in large block letters:

"TODAY, YOUR BARISTA IS:

1. Hella Fucking Gay

2. Desperately Single

FOR YOUR DRINK, I RECOMMEND:

You give him your number."

He is going to kill Tutah.

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a/n: i actually think he needs to treat tutah, but it's arthit so—