I managed to get my friend (who chooses to go by J. M. Accord) to read a Hamilton fanfic, and then she wanted to write one. So, we worked together on this. It'll just be a couple chapters, so don't get too attached.
John walked into his job at the Schuyler Sweets Bakery on a warm summer day in Albany, New York. He grabbed his apron off of its designated hook, and tied it around his waist.
"Mornin', Eliza!" John cheered as he strode past her to the back room, where he went to help his other coworker, Peggy, with baking cupcakes for the afternoon.
"Good Morning, John!" Eliza called back, putting frosting on top of her city-wide famous cinnamon rolls.
Peggy was trying her hardest to lift the heavy flour bag to pour just the right amount into the cupcake batter. John ran up just as the bag of flour escaped Peggy's grip. He caught it before it made a huge mess that Angelica would surely throw a fit about.
"That could have been really bad." Peggy sighed with relief once John placed the bag back onto the counter. "Thanks, John." She wrapped her arms around his body, making him chuckle. John pushed her away with a small kiss to the top of her head.
"Anything for you." John winked. Peggy scoffed and crossed her arms sparking John to ask, "What?"
"You can't lie to me," Peggy said, amusement filling her eyes. "I know gay you are." John laughed as he poured the correct amount of flour into the batter then turned on the kitchen tool to stir it.
"That doesn't mean I can't flirt."
"I'm just gonna mention how weird that is, considering I'm basically your sister at this point." John blinked.
"Good point." Suddenly, the eldest of the girls, and the owner, Angelica, burst into the room.
"We open in five!" Angelica yelled, making her way to the front door.
"Four!" John continued.
"Trois!"
"Stop with the French, Eliza!" Peggy groaned.
"One!" Angelica spun the sign on the door with a flourish, making it known to the world that the bakery was open.
Much to none of their surprise, nothing happened. A total of zero people entered for what felt like forever. "Why do I keep working here?" John complained as he leaned his back against the counter and crossed his arms across his chest.
"Because you love me, remember?" Peggy nudged him in the side, making John giggle a very manly giggle.
"Interesting. Apparently I can lie to you." John said with a laugh as Peggy stuck out her tongue. Just then, they all heard the familiar jingle of the bells above the door, signaling that someone walked in.
John turned around, quickly darting to his proper post at the cash register. Peggy plastered on a smile when the customer stood in front of her part of the counter, behind the wall of pastries. The customer ordered, then paid John at the register as Peggy wrapped the food and Angelica poured a cup of coffee. And this was how the day went. The bells would chime, someone would walk in and order, and John and the sisters would serve them. It had been the same routine for the few years John had worked there while he was in college. And, frankly, all John wanted was a little change.
Though, he wasn't prepared for change when it came.
They had been working for a few hours, when the door opened for the 18th time that day (yes, John had been counting). A young man walked in, and in John's general disinterest in everything that happened at the bakery, it took him a moment to actually take a look at the customer. But when he did, he certainly didn't regret doing so.
John's eyes basically fell out of his head, and his heart went boom. This man was the handsomest guy that he had ever seen. The way the corners of his dark eyes crinkled when he concentrated on the menu; the way his too-big sweatshirt drooped over his arms; the way his long hair bounced in its ponytail...everything about him made John's heart flutter.
All of a sudden, John was shoved to the side, his hip slamming into the side of the counter, the sudden pain tearing him out of his thoughts. Peggy took his place at the register, glaring at him before facing the customer.
"I'm sorry," Peggy sighed. "My coworker is an idiot." She gave the boy his food, then he paid and left. He was gone, and John hadn't even spoken to him. The reason he hadn't, John decided, was Peggy.
"Why did you push me?" John cried, grateful the bakery was vacant of any customers.
"Excuse me, but I just saved you from embarrassment," Peggy sassed.
"What are you talking about?" John asked. "I was just doing my job."
"Uh, I don't think 'drooling over cute guys that walk in' is written in the job description."
"I don't know what you're talking about." John's burning cheeks suggested otherwise.
"Uh-huh…" Peggy narrowed her eyes at him. "Because, to me, it looked a lot like you were staring at that guy like a love-struck version of the doofus you already are." She then returned to her side of the counter. John tried his best to compose himself as another person walked in, and he prayed to never see that boy again.
John not only saw that boy again, but he saw him so often, that he spotted a pattern. Several patterns, actually. First was that the boy only came in on Saturdays. Every Saturday. Second, John noticed that he came in at exactly 10 in the morning each day. Third, the boy ordered two cinnamon rolls, and two coffees, one black and one with lots of sugar and milk. Every. Single. Time.
Fourth was that John was somehow always busy with something in the back room whenever the boy arrived.
He decided that this routine was worse than the previous one.
It continued like this for a month and a half, John avoiding his problem every time it showed its adorable face. The girls didn't seem to mind, besides the fact that they were incredibly annoyed.
One day, Peggy brought John into the kitchen to help her prepare a new batch of cupcakes to be sold later that day. The main issue with this: Peggy was a messy baker. She poured the flour too fast, causing a white cloud to engulf both her and John. She also wanted to add much more frosting than necessary, squeezing a large mound of the bright green icing onto the pastries. John, of course, would then have to painstakingly fix her mistakes. During this process, the bells rang. John, eager to get away from Peggy for just a few minutes, wiped his forehead with his hand, then walked towards the front.
"John, wait," Peggy called out. John simply ignored and walked past both her and a clock that read 10 am.
"Hel-" John froze mid-greeting, seeing the boy standing there, staring back at him. John cleared his throat and forced himself forward, since it was too late to go back now. "Hello. What can I get you today?" He already knew what the boy would ask for, as he had ordered the same thing for the past six Saturdays. It was a good thing that John was a creep and already knew the boy's order, because he certainly wasn't paying any attention to what was said; just how it was said. The way the boy spoke with a quiet determination about something so insignificant. John's body was set on autopilot while his brain picked up on every feeling hidden in the boy's voice. Boredom, exhaustion, anxiousness? Maybe….Or maybe that was just how John felt.
"Green is my favorite color." John nearly dropped the cup he was holding as he was filling it with coffee. He hadn't expected the boy to actually start a conversation with him. "How'd you know?"
"Uh...what?" John stammered. He turned to the boy, who was biting his lip to hold back a smile. He simply tapped his own forehead, indicating that something was wrong with John's. John reached up, feeling a soft substance on his head. Shit... He blushed, and quickly cleared his face of the frosting with the end of his apron. "Sorry, I-" The boy began to laugh softly, and the hair on the back of John's neck prickled up, because oh, God, that laugh.
"It's okay." The boy smiled faintly. If John hadn't melted already, he did now. "It's nice to see you aren't being pushed around by your coworkers anymore."
"Yeah, well, Peggy is like that sometimes." John laughed nervously.
"The girl I usually see is Peggy," the boy concluded. "So, who are you?"
"Uh...J-John." Good job on sounding like you forgot your own name. A brilliant idea flashed through John's mind. "What's your name?"
"Well, most people call me Hamilton," the boy started. "Then again, most people don't like me."
"And those who do?" The boy smirked.
"Alexander; Alex if they really like me." John picked up a pen, and rose his eyebrows questioningly at the coffees in front of him. "I drink the black coffee." John nodded, and wrote "Alexander" on the cup with his best cursive. He subconsciously drew a small heart next to the name, then consciously scribbled it out. He handed Alex the things he had ordered, getting another wonderful smile in response.
"For the record," Alex said on his way out, "I like you better than Peggy."
And so, John decided to stop hiding whenever Alex was there.