Every fandom needs more coffee shop trope fics, right? This is rated Teen and is mostly crack, self-indulgent fluff and humor. There is just a tiny pinch of drama and a very teeny bit of plot.
This was written after a meme went rogue on me. On Tumblr, I asked for a pairing and an AU setting, and I would try to write a three-sentence fic. Meridian_rose gave me Leario and Coffee Shop, and this carried on from that during the holiday week.
I'm leaving these horrible run-on sentences with gratuitous punctuation errors because I'm particularly proud of the way I almost made a scene work in just three very convoluted sentences. I promise, the rest of the story isn't that hard to read.
Leo thinks the man looks like something the cat dragged in out of the rain—hair hanging bedraggled in his big, brown eyes, cashmere overcoat soaked, leather shoes squeaking across the linoleum as he shakes off some excess water and approaches the counter, scanning the menu board of drinks like he's never actually been in a coffee shop—but Leo can forgive a lot for the sake of a gorgeous face and the suggestion of an even better body underneath the perfectly tailored suit, so he smiles, leaning over the counter, and asks, "What'll it be, or maybe I can personally suggest something very hot and delicious that will utterly satisfy you...no wait, may I just make you something special based on my impression of you?"
The man's lips twitch into a smile, and Leo takes it for assent while getting to work on one of his specialties, his custom-made drinks based on what he sees in the patrons, each one a one-time-only work of art although Zo argues everyone just humors him, but Leo is good at reading people's desires and he openly scans the man before him as he takes out and rejects the sweeteners, the artificial flavors, before whipping up a new coffee concoction that is as rich and sensuous as the silk tie and the velvet scarf the man wears with a careless air.
He stares into the proffered cup then into Leo's eyes and says, "I came in here to use the phone—mine had a bit of an accident with a puddle—and I don't want to offend your obviously incomparable skills but I don't actually drink coffee, only tea," then just as Leo's hopes are dashed, the man slides a business card across the counter and says, "If you'd like to try again sometime..." and Leo knew that drink was a winner; he was never wrong about what a customer wanted most.
Turns out, the man who used the phone to call roadside assistance then politely left while Leo was distracted by other customers was Girolamo Riario, and Leo catches holy hell the next day from Lorenzo Medici whose family owns the building and operates the coffee shop.
"How could you let him in? You have welcomed the devil into our midst!"
"Melodramatic much?" Zo mutters just loud enough for Leo to hear and smirk. Lorenzo sees the expression and shakes a finger under their noses.
"How dare you allow such filth into our happy home?!"
"First of all, none of us actually lives here so it's not home," Zo ticks off on his fingers. "Second, who the fuck is this guy and third, what did he ever do to you?"
Lorenzo is working up a fine rant, and even Vanessa turns away from the ovens and Nico looks over from the sink. "He is … he is ithe tool/i of Pope Industries, in charge of property acquisitions." The blank looks on the faces of those listening and eavesdropping infuriates him even more. "He goes around, buying up properties so the company can tear them down and build shit, like mini-malls and soulless office complexes. They totally disregard the integrity of the original structures and the wishes of the tenants."
"So," Leo thinks it through out loud, "you're afraid he's going to want to buy your building?"
"Yes, yes that is exactly what I'm afraid of!" Lorenzo throws his hands in the air, clearly exasperated by the slow uptake of his employees.
"And all you have to do is… say no?" Zo suggests. "It's a small word, a powerful word, the word you say to all of us whenever we request a pay raise or an extra day off or—"
"For fuck's sake, Zoroaster, who even gave you permission to speak," Lorenzo fumes. "Of course I will tell him no, but that isn't enough to deter the man known in business circles as The Count."
Leo and Zo exchange looks when they can hear the capitalization in Lorenzo's furious tone. Zo clears his throat, opens his mouth, and it's enough for Lorenzo to bark, "Shut up, no I don't know why they call him that, but it's well-known that he'll do anything, and I do mean anything, to get a property he wants."
"Really?" Leo has to ask. "He didn't seem like a monster at all to me. Maybe a bit over-dressed, a tiny bit effete, but all in all, he was a pretty prize piece of man."
Lorenzo's mouth works but no sound comes out so Zo pipes up with the heaviest sarcasm he can muster. "So maybe that should be our plan then. You sleep with The Count and find out his dastardly scheme to take this coffee shop, and … profit?"
"That sounds like a wonderful idea, excellent plan, Zo."
"It was a joke, you dumbass," Zo mutters, and he and Leo are getting ready to have at it when Lorenzo finds his words.
"I will not sell to Pope!" he yells, shaking a fist in the general direction of the outside world. "I don't care how much money they offer me, I don't care what kind of villainous schemes they come up with, I will never submit to them. They will not have this shop!"
Leo and Zo both have the same mocking idea and quietly golf clap at the performance while Nico snickers and Vanessa turns away so no one can see her laugh. Lorenzo scowls at them all and sweeps out of the room, which would be a lot more impressive if the swinging door leading to the counter area didn't choose that moment to come off the hinges again. It drops to the floor with a loud clatter and Lorenzo starts to curse until he sees the customers that Giuliano is trying to handle alone while the employee meeting occurred, and he storms out.
Leo collapses against Zo as the two burst into loud laughter, holding on to each other until they can get their breath. "That was magnificent," Leo chokes out.
"What is he on these days? I swear, he is angry all the time," Zo wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes.
Vanessa leans over from where she's putting freshly baked cookies on the cooling racks. "I heard that ever since Clarice left him, he's been trying herbal remedies to mellow out, but I don't think it's working."
"It's not the only thing not working," Zo points at the broken door. He leans over and pulls at one of the floor tiles that starts a chain reaction in a wave across the floor, making Nico yelp when a tile upends into his ankle. "This place is a fucking mess. I'm always surprised when I don't fall through the floor when I go upstairs to the supply rooms. One of these days, the entire staircase is going to pull away and swing into space. The plumbing sucks, the breakers kick if we don't unplug the oven before we start the dishwasher, the entire building is crumbling around our ears. If I was Lorenzo, I would be begging to sell the shithole."
"Yeah, there's just one problem," Leo scratches at his beard until the others gather closer and he can lower his voice. "This place is the one thing his grandfather left him, and he obviously feels a lot of pressure to make it work."
"So why doesn't he pour in some of the big bucks from the family to make it actually work?"
Leo shrugs. "Why does his brother work here for him? If I had to say, the boys didn't inherit as much money as they expected. And now, with Clarice filing for divorce, Lorenzo is going to be screwed."
"I don't care. I'd still sell this steaming pile of shit and move somewhere warm and sunny," Zo leans back and stretches, but Vanessa slaps him in the chest.
"And then where would you go every day to laze about and pretend to work?"
"I'm sure I could find a nice little place on the beach that would take me in and admire my work ethic."
Vanessa and Leo both snort, but Leo brings out the business card from his pocket that started the entire fight. Lorenzo had spotted it on the counter the evening before while he was looking over Leo's shoulder as he closed up, and he'd gone ballistic, demanding to know if the man had been there before and what exactly he'd said. Leo hadn't gone into detail.
"You know, Zo, maybe your idea wasn't such a bad one," he muses, thinking again of the little smile the man had given him and the beautifully shaped hands that had passed over the card.
"What idea?"
"Maybe I should do a little corporate spying and call this Girolamo Riario, find out what he's really after."
Zo snorts, "We all know what iyou're/i really after."
"You don't know," Leo insists. "Maybe he really did come in just to use the phone. Maybe he'd heard about the reputation of the world's best barista and wanted to try me."
"Or maybe he really was snooping around the property," Vanessa suggests as Zo wrinkles his nose.
"World's best barista? You? In what alternate universe is that true?" he demands.
"You know I'm famous for hitting just the perfect combination of what everyone wants to drink, without them even having to tell me."
"Leo," Zo says in the long-suffering voice that suggests they've been over this a hundred times, "no one actually enjoys the concoctions you make up. But they are too infatuated with your smile and your charm and the way your shirts are always wide open and your pants hanging low."
"I don't hear complaints about any of it," Leo retorts.
"What about that college girl who was allergic to soy? She almost went into anaphylactic shock because she didn't want to upset you by not drinking whatever it was you put together for her."
"And I learned to ask beforehand if there are any allergies. And her friend drank that double-soy smoothie and said it was divine."
"But that wasn't until after the young man who had crippling migraines for days after you made him a triple-cinnamon chai."
"If you're sensitive to something and don't let me know—"
"If you were really the psychic barista or whatever you call yourself, you should know what people can and cannot tolerate and not potentially kill them. I swear, it's like you put a spell on them and they're suddenly willing to do whatever you want."
Leo steps close to Zo, cups his face, and Zo shut his eyes tightly. "Oh no, I am not getting involved in this, I'm not falling for your damn hypnotic eyes, those freckles are Satan's mark upon you!"
That's when Riario walks in, of course, while Leo is leaning over him like he's swooning maiden, backing Zo against the counter perilously close to Vanessa's mixer.
Riario quietly clears his throat. "If you are busy, I can return," he says and Leo lets go of Zo so suddenly his head bounces off the wall spice rack and he curses.
"No, you're fine. Very fine. Just as fine as I remembered," Leo says, and Riario smiles tightly at him, sparing a glance for Zo who is rubbing his head and glaring. "So, did you return for that drink?"
"What the fuck are you doing back here?" Zo challenges. "It's employees only."
"Well, that appears to be the problem," Riario says in the low voice that Leo had thought he was misremembering as very sexy. "There are no employees in your shop, but there is a line of increasingly frustrated patrons."
"Where the fuck is that asshat Giuliano? I swear, if he just walked away again in the middle of a shift—" Zo's threat dies off as he steps over the broken door and heads to the front.
"Did you come in here just to help sort out our shift scheduling issues?" Leo crosses his arms in front of his chest, aware of how it accentuates his broad shoulders and the low V-cut of his T-shirt (damn Zo for commenting about his fashion choices).
"No, I am working here in the area and thought I might take you up on your offer." At Leo's smirk, he clarifies, "You claimed you could make a perfect cup of tea, and that's something I have not had the pleasure of enjoying in some time."
"I can do that," Leo nods. "I'm sure I can definitely help you find some kind of pleasure to enjoy." When Nico makes a sound like a startled cat from where he and Vanessa are listening to every word, he adds, "In a cup."
But Riario is already looking at him with heavy eyes, lips crooked in another smile, and he steps closer. "You are obviously too much in demand right now," he no sooner says than Zo is shouting for Leo to get his ass out front and help. Riario continues unruffled, "Perhaps we could meet later? For dinner?"
"I get off at 8. Then we could get off by—" The loud clatter of Vanessa's mixing bowls purposely dropped onto Nico's foot and the floor mercifully cut off Leo's comment, and then she is stepping between them, pointing Leo to go help Zo and nodding to Riario as she asks him to leave the kitchen for health and safety reasons.
Riario politely takes his leave after one last scorching look at Leo. "I will say this much: he is hot," Vanessa confides. "But is he worth losing your job over when Lorenzo finds out you went out with him?"
"It depends on what happens tonight," Leo winks and lets her slap at him in fake outrage before going out to make drinks and daydream about tonight.