Sugar and Spice

Summary:..and everything nice. Shawn is a barista and you’re trying out new coffee shops trying to find a new favorite. Will you pick this one for him or the coffee?

Word Count: 2.1k

When your favorite coffee place shut down you had to find a new one. You don’t particularly care for change because you had particular taste for how your coffee was made. The owners of the Beans and Beats that shut down knew just how you liked it.

As you step into the doors of a place across the street from work you glance at the name on the window. SM and Co. Alright, not a tacky name but still not very catchy for a coffee place.

You sigh, expecting this place to disappoint like the last two you tried nearby. Each shop got three days. Three days of your usual order before you decided you like it or not.

The line is fairly short, only three people ahead of you. Soft music plays over the speakers and you are surprised to hear it’s a fairly new song, sort of a pop rock vibe. It’s a change from the usual smooth jazz or classical music other places played.

You catch sight of the barista taking the order of the person at the counter next. You raise your eyebrows, doing a double take because he had to be the hottest guy you’d ever seen behind a coffee counter. Your eyes flick down to his name tag and you can make out Shawn in slanted handwriting.

Just As Sweet

Word Count: 406

There he was, a tall curly haired angel with whipped cream smeared across his cheek from the back of his hand. The guy you’ve had a crush on for weeks on end. His back was to you, that lovely gorgeous back that you could see flex ever so slightly through his black tee that's stretched taut over his muscles. He’s mixing up the order of the person in front of you and the moment he turns to hand the drink to his coworker at the register, your eyes meet his. You stare for a moment, eyes locked and his coworker takes the drink as he nearly drops it.

When it’s your turn he fucks the drink up twice, spilling it once and forgetting the whipped cream on the second one. You don’t say anything about it because you just don’t care that much but the second you put your hand around the cup he turns around and grabs it, and your hand. The two of you stand there and stare at each other. Your eyes go to his name tag and you can see it says Shawn in messy cute loopy handwriting.

“Can I have my cup Shawn?” you giggle and the way his cheeks turn red is the cutest thing you’d witnessed in your whole life.

“I-I the top stuff?” He fumbles with his words and points to the cup with his free hand. “White cream, fuck, whipped cream?”

“Oh!” you laugh and pull your hand away for him to take the cup back.

Shawn smiles, eyes bright and sparkling, he’s like looking into the sun. He turns around with the cup and shakes the metal aerator can, filling your cup over the brim with a swirl of fluffy white whipped cream. He shakes a few sprinkles on it and even gives you one of the little chocolate sticks reserved for the mocha latte supremes. “Sorry about that,” he says softly as he hands you your cup back.

You grab the chocolate stick and take a bite, keeping your eyes locked with his. “It’s okay, I know it would have been just as sweet without it because you made it.”

Shawn flushes again, all the way to his ears this time and turns without another word to start on the next order. You turn away, smug and satisfied with yourself. Shawn was going to be yours one day, that you were sure of.

The Worst

Black coffee. That was all he was allowed to make. No cream. No sugar. And for god’s sake, stay away from the espresso machine. Bev’s words. Not his. Drumming his fingers on the countertop out of absolute boredom, waiting for the next surly customer was where he found himself this morning. Five am was an unholy hour to be awake but Bev, his best friend and his boss, had informed him that too many of their nightly customers were complaining about the quality of their drinks. One old man had even called the Omega ‘cantankerous’. Never had barely been able to say that with a straight face. He honestly didn’t see what the big deal was, he was perfectly happy living on the instant coffee that was granulated in jars. But some people had to be picky. The bell over the door ringing causing him to stand up straight and paste of a pitiful fake smile only to slump his shoulders once again when he saw Bev come through the door. “Mornin’.”, she called out happily, smiling when she saw that he’d put out the muffins and the doughnuts for the rush that was coming. “At least you didn’t give me the obligation for it to be a good one.” He grumbled out as crossed his arms over his chest, leaning his hip against the counter as he watched her tie on her apron. He needed this job and Bev knew that and that’s the only reason she kept him here. Not that he hated the work, he really didn’t, he hated the customers. The forced pleasantries grated on his nerves. Having been fired from three jobs this semester alone for his 'unwillingness to grant superior service’. The exact words of two former employers. He thought they were colluding anyway. “No one can force you to do anything, and we both know it.” Bev’s response was chipper anyway. “Says the person who made me be here at dawn.” Grabbing a towel and wiping down an already spotless counter as he grumped. “Did you drink your own coffee this morning?” Bev asked with the hint of a smile. “No. I ran out. And the store doesn’t open for another hour.” “Have a cup, then. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll brighten you up some.” A teasing edge to her voice. “Fine.” Tossing the towel in the bin and turning to look at the machines with an exasperated sigh. “Yeah. You need coffee.” She knew that he could be a bear in the mornings and yet, here he stood. At dawn. At work. He was grumbling so much to himself that he didn’t hear the little bell over the door announce the arrival of a customer until he heard a throaty clearing behind him. Spinning around, his eyes first landed on the leather gloves braced against the counter top, traveling up to the bright warm eyes of the Alpha looking back at him. “Can I get you what?” He asked quickly, tongue stumbling over his words, coughing and giving it another go. “What can I get you, sir?” He asked as his eyes danced away. “Caffè Americano, if you please?” Came a thickly accented response. “Single shot.” Swallow audibly, his anxiety about the espresso machine overriding any biological response he may have otherwise had. Giving the man an abbreviated nod and turning his back to him once again, calling out with a hiss, “Bev!” Waiting a beat for her response which never came. Squaring his shoulders and eyeing the equipment disdainfully before thinking fuck it and proceeding with the man’s order. The color and aroma were correct as far a he could tell, turning and placing the porcelain cup on the counter with a smile that probably looked more like a grimace as he rung him up. “Thank you…Will.” The man ducking his head slightly to read his name tag. “You’re welcome, let me know if you need anything else.” Wiping his hands on his apron and making a beeline for the back as soon as the Alpha turned away. “Bev! Where are you!?” Calling out lowly just as she was stepping from her office. “What happened?” A curious expression on her face. “A customer and a Caffè Americano happened.” He hissed back at her. Eyes growing wide as she looked at him. “You didn’t break the espresso machine, did you?” Resting his fists on his hips, nearly snorting. “No! It’s not broken.” But he was talking to the swinging kitchen door as she already gone out front to check on her machine. “Uh…Will? Come here.” His shoulders rounding at her tone, at least he thought he didn’t break it. Pushing open the door only to stop, Bev standing at the counter with a full cup in one hand a business card in the other. “I think this is for you.” Holding out the card between two fingers as she moved to pour out the coffee. In small copperplate scrawl was written: “Will, Your smile goes further than your coffee. If you’re so amendable, I like to enjoy a proper cup with you. H. Lecter”

Flipping the card over to read Dr. Hannibal Lecter MD PhD. His phone number penned above his name.

Hey I saw your question in the tags. Bakery/Coffee Shop AUs are a common trope in fanfiction of all shows and across all genres. It's one of those things you either love or hate. :)

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You know, the other two fandoms I write for (Veronica Mars, That 70’s Show) NEVER have AUs like that. It’s almost impossible to find a  T70S or Veronica Mars AU that isn’t pre-series, futurefic or a ‘what if?’ scenario, they almost always takes place in their respective verses. I’ve never seen a coffee shop fic for either fandom. This is probably the reason I had NO idea this trope even existed.

I personally love it, but I was cleless. I think this might be why I’m enjoying the TW fandom so much—far more outrageous scenarios are possible when the supernatural is involved. As much as I die for VM fics, they can often lean toward the depressing because of the subject matter. TW can be angsty, but it’s almost always in a satisfying way.

Thanks for the heads up!