A/N: This is a companion piece to Sakura the Stalker Chick. It is not necessary to read that one first or at all to understand this story. This is told through Sakura's point of view while the other is told through Sasuke's.

-.-

Sasuke the Mocha Boy

-.-

At exactly eight-eleven, on the dot, Sakura walks into the nearest Starbucks with every intention of buying her usual peppermint white chocolate raspberry mocha along with the underlying intention of ogling the barista that works there in the mornings.

That boy is gorgeous and he has this air around him that makes her want to swoon and he's been her inspiration for many things. Like her secret novels. Or maybe a couple of decent and not-so-decent dreams. The only problem is, is that she has absolutely no idea what his name is. So she decides that today is the day that she'll find out.

She goes to the counter and decides last minute to add in a little snack to accompany her drink. One look at the boy behind the counter sends her heart fluttering and as she's given her lemon pound cake, she musters up the courage to say, "My name's Sakura."

"Would you like whipped cream with that?"

"My name's Sakura and yes, thank you."

He just looks at her and nods his head, heading back to the machines to make the mocha. She stands there and watches him make her drink. She stares at his face and catches herself with her mouth open on many occasions. The crappy lighting of the store doesn't do much for his nice features, but she doesn't care.

"Sakura."

She whirls around happily and grabs at her drink, noticing that she had just a bit extra whipped cream than usual. He thinks she wouldn't notice, but she did, and it makes her giddy. She freaks when he starts to head back to the register.

"Hey," she calls out, proud that her voice doesn't waver. He angles his head back to silently regard her. "Thanks for the extra whipped cream."

He grunts. As he's walking away, she mentally berates herself for not asking for his name. One of the other workers leans across the counter and says, "Don't let Sasuke get to you. He's like that with everyone."

Sasuke. So that's his name. Sakura giggles to herself and takes her mocha to the nearest table and settles in. She takes a large sip of her drink and burns her tongue, but it doesn't faze her in the least because it was made by him and it eases the pain like nothing else could.

A sudden inspiration hits her and she hurriedly digs through her bag for a pen. Flattening out a napkin, she pens out a quick poem.

She holds the napkin up with great pride and brings it down to her lips. She kisses it and places it gingerly back onto the table.

"Sasuke the mocha boy," she murmurs, "bring me cocoa, bring me joy. Sasuke the mocha boy, I love him, I love him, I love him."

She titters and takes another large sip of her drink, gagging and spluttering as she chokes on it. She reaches for the napkin and nearly has a heart attack when she realizes just which napkin she was going for. Rerouting her hand, she grabs at another napkin, one without the poem on it, and wipes her mouth clean.

She takes one last swig of her mocha and pushes out of her seat. She grabs the empty cup and the napkin, savoring one more look at the poem and folds it up neatly, slipping it into her pocket.

-.-

At exactly eight-eleven, she walks in the nearest Starbucks with every intention of ordering her usual peppermint white chocolate raspberry mocha along with the underlying intention of having a real conversation with the absolutely gorgeous and mysterious barista whose name she found out is Sasuke. Sasuke the Mocha Boy.

She's disappointed to find that he's not manning the register today and that another worker is. Regardless, she still heads up to the counter and places her usual order.

"Hey! You're the girl that comes in everyday at eight-eleven aren't you?"

She nods and waits impatiently for the guy to ring up her order. He's saying something to her, but it completely flies over her head, having spotted Sasuke the Mocha Boy by the coffee machines. To her, it seems like an eternity till she gets her change back, but it gets done eventually.

She hurriedly makes her way over to the other end of the counter and leans her elbows onto the smooth marble, watching as Sasuke makes her mocha. She catches the fact that he added extra pumps of raspberry into her drink. It makes her giggle to herself.

"Sakura."

She immediately reaches out for her drink even before he could release it and their fingers touch. There's a spark of electricity, she just knows it. Her fingers tingle and there are butterflies in her stomach. She smiles shyly at him and thanks him for the extra raspberries. He merely grunts and goes about making the next order.

She slides into the seat at the nearest empty table and if she strains her ear she can hear the worker that rang up her order chatting with Sasuke the Mocha Boy. She reaches into her pocket and takes out the napkin with the poem. She flattens it out against the table and grins stupidly as she rereads her own words.

"Ready for our gig next week?"

Gig? Her head shoots up at this sudden revelation. She didn't know he played in a band. Everyday she's learning something new.

"Where exactly did you book us?"

"You know that bar just down the street?"

Her eyes light up. She knows that place, having passed by it plenty of times on the way here. She reaches into her bag and brings out a pen, making a note of it on her palm. Now all she needs is the time. Come on, say the time.

"We're booked that night from nine till eleven."

She hurriedly jots it down and hastily puts the pen back into her bag, downing the mocha in three large gulps. She has to make sure she has the perfect outfit for this. In her rush, she forgets to neatly fold up the napkin and slide it back into her pockets.

-.-

At exactly eight-eleven, she walks into the nearest Starbucks with every intention of ordering her usual peppermint white chocolate raspberry mocha and the not-so-underlying intention of ogling the hot, absolutely stunning barista that works there in the morning.

He's working at the register today and she pushes down her butterflies and makes her order. He looks at her and she nearly swoons on her feet. She's proud to say that she doesn't.

She's not getting any extra whipped cream or raspberry or anything today because Sasuke the Mocha Boy isn't making her drink for her. Sighing despondently, she takes her mocha from another worker and heads back to the table that's slowly becoming hers.

She reaches into her pocket for the napkin, hand coming up empty. She draws in a deep breath and eyes rove around the room frantically. She could have sworn that she stuffed it back into her pocket. On second thought, maybe not. Either way, she searches the area around her.

When her search proves fruitless, she gets out of her seat and rushes over to counter.

"Did you happen to see a napkin lying somewhere over there?"

Sasuke the Mocha Boy looks at her funny and arches one of his eyesbrows. "Do you have any idea how many people sit there and don't clean up after themselves? You expect me to remember a stupid piece of napkin?"

She's about to argue that it wasn't just a stupid piece of napkin but realizes how stupid that would sound and closes her mouth without a word. She thanks him regardless and returns rather lifelessly to her seat. It doesn't really matter if she can't find it because she already has the poem memorized. She'll just have to make sure to write it somewhere where she won't easily lose it.

Today she takes her time with her mocha.

-.-

At five minutes to seven thirty later that day, Sakura finds herself at the bar down the street where Sasuke the Mocha Boy and his band are supposed to be playing.

She's early, but she just wants to make sure that she has a good seat and that she won't get lost in the crowd. She orders a mocha. It's nothing like what she gets at Starbucks but she supposes she'll have to make do.

Eight o'clock comes and goes and soon it's eight-thirty. She's eagerly awaiting for him to walk through the door. Her hopes rise only to be constantly dashed when it's not him that walks through.

Nine o'clock quickly passes and it's already nine-thirty and still no signs of Sasuke. She surmises that he's probably just late. Unlikely, but it's all that she has going for her.

Soon enough it's ten and then it's ten-thirty . Before she knows it, it's already eleven and by then she's given up entirely to him showing up tonight. Packing her things, she leaves a tip for the waiter and departs without a second glance back.

-.-

At eight-eleven, on the dot, Sakura walks into the nearest Starbucks with every intention of changing up her usual order from a peppermint white chocolate raspberry mocha to a peppermint white chocolate strawberry mocha and the underlying intention of wanting to ask why Sasuke the Mocha Boy wasn't at the bar last night.

He's standing behind the register toady and she swears he gets hotter with each passing day. His hair is styled to resemble a duck's butt, but a very attractive duck's butt at that. Did she mention that she absolutely adores ducks' butts?

She walks up to the counter and places her order. The slight twitch of his brow tells her he's surprised that she's not ordering her usual drink. She's smug about it. She wants to ask about the gig, but she can't seem to find the opportune time to ask. Before long, she finds herself standing by the pick-up counter.

He's not the one making her drink today as well. She doesn't mind. She'd rather watch him ring up customer after customer anyways.

And so, once her drink is in hand, she settles in and gazes longingly at the boy behind the counter.

-.-

Seven-thirty finds her walking into the bar down the street.

She settles in and orders a mocha. Again, she's early and she knows this but she just wants to get a good seat in case they show up today.

Eight o'clock flies by and soon enough it's eight-thirty. She's constantly checking the door and the stage for any presence of him, mocha forgotten and cold, and at eight-forty five she spots him and his band walking on stage. She clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle her delighted squeals. They spend a bit of time arranging themselves and tuning their instruments and at a minute to nine they are ready to begin.

She whips out her phone, happy that she convinced her mother to get her one with a video function. She screams herself hoarse and at one point she's pretty sure she yells "Sasuke, I love you!"

If she does, she feels absolutely no remorse because it's the truth.

Halfway through their set she finds out that her phone's memory is depleted and she groans. But there's not enough time for her to worry about it because their next song is playing as she's back to screaming her head off.

Eleven rolls around faster than ever before and the next thing she knows is that they're thanking the crowd. They set down their instruments and the drummer who's also Sasuke the Mocha Boy's coworker spots her.

He smiles at her and weaves his way through the crowd. "I didn't know you came here."

"Oh, yeah. I sometimes like to hang around here, you know, for fun."

He nods. "So what'd you think of our songs?"

Her eyes shine and she gushes, "They were absolutely great. I didn't know Sasuke could play the bass."

They chat for a bit, except Sakura can't focus on anything because Sasuke is only mere feet away and if she plays her cards right she might be able to snag a dance with him. She turns her attention back to the boy in front of her and makes an excuse to get out of the conversation and when she turns back around for Sasuke, he's gone from his spot. She scours the entire club for him. Finding absolutely no trace of him, she groans and chooses to leave the bar instead.

-.-

At exactly eight-eleven, on the dot, Sakura enters the nearest Starbucks with every intention of ordering her usual peppermint white chocolate raspberry mocha along with the underlying intention of having a normal conversation with Sasuke the Mocha Boy. And maybe get a date with him in the process.

Who knows, she might just get lucky today.