Title: Coffee Shop
Description: Ah, yes. The classic coffee shop AU drabble. It needed to be done and it was a prompt from vickykun on my Drarry blog. Enjoy!
AN: Draco Malfoy is a white girl. If you look into a mirror and whisper 'pumpkin spice latte' three times, he'll appear and steal your soul.
Draco's foot tapped impatiently on his stool. He'd heard about drug addicts starting to tweak out when they didn't get their fix, and figured this was honestly a likely possibility for him.
Draco Malfoy needed coffee like he needed air to breathe and underlings to make fun of. It was entirely essential to his very being and he didn't care if that qualified him as an addict. He could stop whenever he wanted, but he had no intention of stopping.
Finally the man behind the counter got to him.
"Double-shot espresso, three sugars—"
"The usual," the man nodded, some kind of smile dancing in his green eyes. His ragged black hair didn't even look too shabby that morning. "I know. I put it on when you walked in. I was going to tell you it's almost ready."
Well. "Of course," Draco said like he had expected that all along. He was an important customer with important business and he was glad even a simpleton barista could see that.
Harry rolled his eyes to himself when he walked away from the man at the counter to go check on his precious and oddly specific coffee brew. Harry had once out of pure curiosity poured himself a cup of what that arrogant blonde man drank every morning to absolutely disastrous results. Harry had never felt like a drink was literally kicking him in the face like this did.
That was one way to wake up, he supposed.
After checking to see the temperature was just right 79 degrees Celsius just as His Majesty had requested (never more, never less. Harry had once tested him and brewed the coffee at 80 degrees only to find Draco demanding a refund and berating him), Harry poured it out into a cup.
Next came the challenging part.
Harry poured the espresso shots in with ease before moving on. Next came the exacting dribbles of cream, sugar, steamed milk, pumpkin-flavored syrup all swirling into what Harry hoped would be an acceptable manner.
The man who ordered it always got prissy about people not pouring the toppings in correctly, so Harry did his best to be precise.
To top it all off was a fluff of whipped cream and pumpkin spices swirled around the brim of the cup.
It smelled delicious enough to fool anyone who hadn't drank this particular mix, but Harry knew all of those wired and sugary flavors packed quite the punch.
Satisfied with his work, Harry grabbed the man's usual morning croissant and took both over to where he sat at the counter. His eyes were slightly bloodshot from waiting for his drug of choice.
"Double-shot espresso, three sugars, cream, steamed milk, pumpkin spice, whipped cream, and Kilimanjaro brew," Harry recited as he set it down.
Draco would wait until the coffee was in his mouth before he handed a knut over to the coffeehouse.
Gingerly, his long fingers wrapped around the ceramic mug and he met the edge with his lips, tongue darting out to catch some of the sweet whipped cream as he drank.
Harry tried his best not to stare at his mouth—a customer last week had accused him of leering—but he hoped this time it would be evident that he was looking for a reaction instead of a date. Or a reaction and a date. Either one.
"Perfect," Draco practically purred, the warm liquid filling him from head to toe like a splash of cold water to wake him.
"You're welcome," Harry replied even though the beautiful, particular man who came in every morning looking half-dead until he got some caffeine into his system never thanked him. Not once.
Draco, now in a considerably better mood, decided it was time to break that tradition. "Thank you." He searched for a nametag and found one. "Harry."
"Did you not know my name before?" Harry laughed. He knew he was supposed to hold his tongue around the customers, but this was just ridiculous. "How long have you been coming here, a year?"
"And three months, yes."
"And you never knew my name?"
Draco, in spite of popular belief, had a heart and could recognize how insensitive that sounded. "Do you know my name?" he countered gently, hoping it would justify his lack of knowledge.
Oh, shit. "Uh." Fuck.
"Malfoy," he introduced himself, one hand wrapped protectively around his coffee mug while the other extended to offer Harry a handshake. "Draco Malfoy."
Shaking his head, Harry took the man's hand. "Related to Bond, James Bond?"
"That's classified information," Draco teased right back. "How do I know you're not some enemy spy who's been slipping hallucinogens in my morning cup?
"Well, have you been actually having hallucinations?"
"No."
"That's how you know," Harry said as if that was brand new information that Draco had not already figured out on his own. It was still fun to play around with this man, the one whose name he finally knew. Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy in all of his obscurity and sudden burst of alertness from the coffee, turned the corners of his lips up. "I'm still not convinced." This 'Harry' was interesting.
Was Malfoy, Draco Malfoy hitting on him? Harry could never process when people were flirting with him, so he did his best to play it safe. "How can I prove it, then?"
Draco thought for a moment. "I know how but I only have a half-hour until work starts, and this method will take much longer than a half hour. What time do you get off?"
"Three," Harry replied with a grin that spread from ear to ear. This was definitely flirting.
"Three it is."
Harry's manager gave him a look from across the shop in reference to the new customers that had lined up while Harry was having his fun, and Harry quickly realized that he'd let the line pile up quite a bit. They were all staring at him, too.
"Can I help you?" Harry asked hurriedly as he went up to the cash register to serve the first annoyed-looking woman.
From his seat, Draco smiled. Harry was almost kind of adorable when he got flustered. For that, Draco would be sure to leave a big tip.
While Harry was busy making Chocolate Chai Tea lattes, Draco quietly slipped out of the coffee house, excited for when he'd return later that afternoon so he and Harry could pick up where they left off.
