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It’s just before Midnight. One of his neighbours is listening to (bad) music loud enough that he can feel the bass vibrating through the walls, another one of his neighbours is having sex loud enough to make the already shaking walls almost tumble down with her moans (that sound a lot like screams of a tortured dog), and Dan? Dan's sitting on the floor of his bathroom and is on the verge of a panic attack, convinced that he’s going to fail tomorrow’s exam.
When he signed up for university to study law of all things, Dan had thought that it would be fun. Parties, long nights with new friends, coffees at the quaint coffeeshops surrounding university, rainy afternoons hidden away at the library to read books. He’d dreamed about all those things, and all of them had become reality. There was this one party in an underground garage that had a live band playing, the nights spent at his favourite bar with that one bartender one of his friends was somehow friends with that would always serve them delicious shots he’d created himself for free. Not so early mornings at that nice coffee place with that pretty-looking barista that made Dan feel all flustered whenever he gave him that bright smile of his, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth and the corners of his eyes crinkling. So maybe Dan has a crush on the barista. He knows how cliche that is. In fact it is so cliche that he didn’t want to believe it at first either. After all, who actually develops a crush on their barista? It’s not like he’s living in some fanfiction universe written by a fourteen-year-old.
So maybe Dan’s university life had been fun up until now, but that changes now that exams are happening. All this time he has spent drinking and hanging out with new friends he could have smartly invested in maybe doing some actual studying, or he could at least have paid attention at lectures. He didn’t do that though, and now he’s been cramming as much as possible into his head before tomorrow’s first exam, hoping that at least some of it stays. And that maybe some of it is actually what gets asked in the exam. Dan’s never been a religious person, but right now, on the bathroom floor after midnight with bad music and worse moans, he’s praying to all the gods he can think of.
And after tomorrow’s exam is over, he’ll go right on to cramming for three more. Fuck him for being unorganised.
Dan doesn’t fall asleep before 3 a.m. thanks to his nerves and loud neighbours, but when he does finally sleep it’s restless. He’s haunted by dreams of having the exam paper in front of him, all questions on the sheet gibberish. Or at least that’s what he thinks. And he looks at the other students taking the test around him, none of them having any trouble with writing down the answers. One minute before the time is over, the ink on his paper starts to blur and after he blinks, suddenly the questions are in English. Even better than that, he knows the answer to all of them and just as he’s about to start writing with renewed hope, the supervisor tells them that time is up. Dan wakes up in his bed drenched in sweat an hour before his alarm is supposed to go off.
He looks like a mess. Dan knows it, but he can’t be bothered to change that. His hair’s sticking in every direction and he has bags under his eyes. He’s wearing yesterday’s shirt that has a small but visible stain on it. As soon as he pulls on the handle of the glass door that leads into his favourite coffeeshop, however, he regrets that decision. It’s a Wednesday. Dan knows for a fact that the cute barista - his name tag reads Phil but Dan feels creepy for knowing that because does anyone ever look at the name tags of people they are being severed by? - is never here on a Wednesday.
Except today, of all days, he stands behind the counter. Of course.
Looking up from where he’s doodling on some paper, he smiles at Dan and straightens. They are almost the same height, Dan has noticed that before. Most people usually aren’t as tall as Dan, so he likes it that he doesn’t have to look down to meet these beautiful eyes. Obviously they are made for each other.
It’s more quiet than usual today. It’s the first time Dan’s been here before the morning rush starts. One of the other baristas, who’s face is also familiar to Dan by now, is wiping down the tables. It’s actually oddly quiet. Only one man dressed in a suit and wearing a tie is typing away on his laptop at a table, and two younger women who look a lot like students are talking with hushed voices to each other.
“Good morning. What can I do for you?“ Phil asks cheerfully. “Do you want the usual?“
Dan freezes for a moment, because what? What? It’s true, he always orders the same thing when he comes here, but he’s never thought-
There are so many customers here and Phil specifically remembered his order? Unimportant, irrelevant Dan’s order?
Trying to conceal his surprise as quickly as possible, because honestly there’s probably nothing special about this at all - Phil probably remembers tons of regulars’ orders - Dan looks up at the menu hanging on the wall behind the counter and bites on his bottom lip thoughtfully.
“What’s the most sugary thing you have that contains the most caffein?“ he asks.
Phil chuckles. He has a nice chuckle, a deep one. Dan wouldn’t mind hearing it more often, and damn, isn’t it pathetic that he’s drooling over his barista instead of panicking over his impending (doom) exam.
“I’ve got just the right thing for you. Do you want to drink here or to go?“
“I’ll stay here,“ Dan answers and Phil tells him his total amount. Dan pays without even knowing what he’s paying for, and his fingers almost brush Phil’s when he hands over the coins.
“You can always tell when exams at uni start, because students start looking like zombies.“
Dan blushes at that. He should have at least worn a new shirt today.
“Thanks,“ he mutters under his breath and Phil shrugs his shoulders sheepishly.
“No offense. I know from experience that exam time at uni sure is rough. I once stayed up forty-eight hours straight to study for a linguistics exam and then completely failed.“
“How encouraging,“ Dan replies dryly and Phil laughs loudly.
“Sorry. You can go take a seat, I’ll bring you your drink in a minute.“
Dan wouldn’t mind staying at the counter for a while longer and talking to Phil. He wouldn’t mind that at all. But it would probably look weird to refuse the offer, and why would Phil want to talk to him anyway? It must be super annoying if guests try to make smalltalk.
Picking a table by the window, Dan gets out his notes and reads through them one more time. He knows the first few paragraphs by heart now, but the longer he reads on the less concentrated he is, and the truth is that he’s never even gotten to the last page of this script. It’s safe to say that he really didn’t take studying all too seriously.
“Here you go.“
A cup of whatever the hell Phil made for him is placed next to Dan’s left hand that’s desperately clutching the notes. It has whipped cream with sprinkles on top, and three more tiny bags of sugar are placed on the plate the mug stands on. Maybe Phil took his request for tons of sugar too seriously. Phil also puts a second plate on the table holding a slice of chocolate cake, the one Dan always buys here whenever he craves for something sweet.
“I didn’t order this,“ he says confused and looks up from his notes at Phil, who smiles at him brightly.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s like a lucky charm for your exams.“
Dan looks at him in awe and then at the cake, and then back at Phil.
“I- thank you?“
“You’re welcome.“
Phil looks like he wants to say more, but at that exact moment (because of course it would be right now) the bell above the door chimes, announcing new customers, and with a grimace in Dan’s direction that makes the man smile and Phil smile as well in response, Phil makes his way back behind the counter.
There’s this stupid saying that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Dan is utterly screwed.
Dan’s request really was granted when he takes a sip from his drink. It’s sweet but not too sweet and the taste of coffee lingers on his tongue once he swallows. Whatever the hell it is, it tastes absolutely amazing. The caffeine works its wonders and slowly Dan starts feeling somewhat like a human being again.
Before he has to leave to get to his exam on time, he comes up to the counter once again. There’s more business now than earlier and he queues up.
“Can I get you anything else?“ Phil asks when it’s Dan’s turn, who still is last in line. His colleague is now working the coffee machine and doing the drinks while Phil takes the customer’s orders.
Dan shakes his head. “No thank you. But I just wanted to ask what that drink was that you made me. It was amazing and I definitely want to order it again in the future.“
Phil leans over the counter a bit and signs Dan with his finger to come closer too. Blushing slightly, Dan does just that. He’s not even close to Phil, but it’s still closer than he’s ever been and fuck, are those freckles on his cheeks?
“It’s a secret. Come back again with positive exam results and maybe then I’ll tell you.“
There’s a mischievous grin on his lips and for a second Dan’s breath catches in his throat, before they both yelp as Phil’s colleague slaps the back of his head.
“PJ,“ Phil whines and rubs the spot, “what was that for?“
“Stop flirting and go back to work,“ his co-worker says with a roll of his eyes, but before he does so he winks at Dan.
“I wasn’t-“
“Of course not. Because you give free cake to all the sleep-deprived students and make them special drinks.“
It’s hard to say who turns redder, Dan or Phil. PJ walks away and Phil turns back to Dan with wide eyes, embarrassment clearly written all over his face.
“No really, I wasn’t-“
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, the amount of sugar and caffeine coursing through his body or just sheer craziness that makes Dan interrupt Phil.
“If I pass my exams, do I get your number?“
Obviously flustered, Phil agrees. Dan has a slight spring in his step on his way to his first exam straight from the coffeeshop, but the nerves from before have now turned into positive energy.
The next time he returns to the coffeeshop is on a Tuesday a few weeks later, a sheet of paper in his hand. Phil always works on Tuesdays and Dan was sure to pick a time where he knows the business is kind of slow.
Phil’s not behind the counter but PJ is, and as soon as he spots Dan he calls for Phil and leaves into the back of the coffeeshop.
Dan slides the piece of paper over the counter. His fingers are slightly trembling in excitement. All his grades from the exams are printed on it. He didn’t exactly ace them, but he passed them. Now that Phil’s looking at them though, Dan wonders if this was a good idea and not the most embarrassing thing he’s ever done. What if Phil was just joking back then? What if he finds it stupid? There’s so much doubt in his mind now, that he wants to rip the paper out of Phil’s hand and run out, never to return to this coffeeshop ever again. Other coffeeshops have pretty baristas too, probably.
Phil starts laughing and Dan’s heart sinks, but then he watches as Phil grabs for a pen and starts jotting down numbers at the bottom of the paper. He slides it back to Dan with a bright smile on his face, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth and the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“I would have given you my number even if you failed, you dork,“ he says the insult so fondly that it sounds like a compliment, before he furrows his eyebrows and adds, “but you know, I don’t even know your name. My shift ends in half an hour. If you want to wait, we could go for like a coffee and get to know each other. It probably won’t be as good as my coffees are, though.“
“Who’s the dork?“ Dan asks slightly amused and his heart skips a beat when Phil sticks his tongue out at him. It’s so childish, but also one of the most adorable things he’s ever seen. Well fuck, maybe Dan does live in some sort of fanfiction universe written by some fourteen-year-old.