A home for the little non-smutty Pentatonix oneshots I end up writing to reach my daily word count goal when my main stories are uncooperative.
Let me know what you think, because frankly if I'm writing these, I need the encouragement. 😆
Ships wil...
So, this appeared on my timeline, and wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote something down. Oops.
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Scott's well into his ninth hour of a double shift — he fucking hates making strawberry Frappuccinos and he really fucking hates Stephen for begging him to take his shift last minute so he wouldn't piss off his girlfriend — when he overhears it.
"Romance in L.A. is copy and pasting 'Happy Valentine's Day' to the eight people you would theoretically fuck, and seeing what comes back."
Scott snorts, glancing up from his machine to see who this perfect reflection of jaded realism is attached to. The answer is a guy. A hot guy. A hot guy who Scott, despite not wanting to stereotype, suspects on the basis of his shoes alone wouldn't be texting Valentine's wishes to women if he were to carry out his cynical plan.
Hot Guy clearly notices Scott's snort, because he glances over at him, smiling with an unapologetic shrug before stepping up to the counter to order.
When their cups come through, Scott peers at the name written on the first one.
Mitch.
Well, hello Mitch.
He makes Mitch's soy latte as ordered, and the friend's hot chocolate, and hesitates only a moment before writing "Happy Valentine's Day!" just above the scrawled name and his number just below on the side of the cup.
Mitch is still talking to his friend when Scott calls their names. He smiles and says a polite "thanks!" as he picks up his drink, apparently not noticing the extra message. Scott wants to think his eyes are focused on Scott's face a little too long to mean nothing, but he really has no basis to believe that.
Ah well.
The pair turn and leave, still chattering away. If Scott's eyes linger for a bit watching them go, so be it.
The shift is busy. The Valentine's espresso BOGO deal starts at three, and Scott doesn't have much time to think after that until his shift ends. He's forgotten all about his attempt to hit on a stranger until he checks his phone and finds a text from an unknown number waiting for him from several hours ago.
"If this is the teenager behind the counter, you are very pretty, but I regret to inform you that I'm both too old for you and very gay."
A second text reads:
"If this is the tall blond barista, I'm happy to inform you that you are also very pretty and I'm still very gay. Are you free Sunday night?"
Scott's not free Sunday night; he's scheduled to work. But Stephen owes him a very large favor and Scott is going to collect in full because he's not missing this opportunity for the world.
