disclaimer: without prejudice. the names of all characters contained here-in are the property of FOX and Ryan Murphy. no infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.

author's notes: written for andercriss, who wanted a coffeeshop!au.


Do You Remember;;


For as long as he can remember he's had a thing for coffee shops. It started when he was a kid and his mom carried him around on her arm, quickly nipping in for a coffee-to-go she'd sip from intermittently while they ran all sort of errands together. The rich smell of the coffee would spread through the car on cold winter days, and whenever the coffee had cooled down enough his mother allowed him a small sip.

Soon he would have a small cup of coffee with his breakfast every morning. But what he enjoyed most of all was making the coffee; the smell of freshly ground coffee beans would overtake him and make him think of warm blankets and the scent of some of his father's old books. It pulled all those special sensations together in one single scent. And it was nothing short of magic.

In high school he turned old enough to buy his own coffee, watch the baristas jot down his name on the cup and shout out his order, pull levers and press buttons, hear the grind of the machine as it turned coffee beans into a delicious beverage he would slowly get addicted to. In college he'd often sit in his favorite coffee shop entire days, reading, studying, spending an insane amount of money on all kinds of different coffees, but it always transported him right back home, right back to the car where he sat strapped into the middle seat so he could see everything that was going on.

His fascination with coffee shops had stretched across continents; everywhere he travelled he'd check out whatever kind of coffee shop he'd find, which had led to an unfortunate miscommunication in Amsterdam–Sebastian had doubled over laughing, and even though it's been three years he still can't mention pot without Sebastian reminding him of that time he honestly feared he'd get arrested. But Sebastian still tagged along all the same.

A lot of milestones in his life had taken place in coffee shops; his first kiss with a girl called Isabella when he was thirteen, the first time he'd told someone he loved him, his first break up, his brother's triumphant announcement that he'd be playing a dead body on CSI, Tina's baby shower, which he got to attend because he'd be the baby's godfather.

He met Sebastian at a coffee shop, the same coffee shop he was heading to, almost five years to the day. The same coffee shop they still frequented, though not always together; Sebastian's commute took him to the other side of town, while his was on route to the coffee shop. There were about a dozen or so other shops they could reach a lot easier, but there was something to be said about the sentimental value of a certain place, even though it's impossible to return to another time.

Still, crossing the threshold does transport him every single time, the soft lighting along with the small tables, the room bursting with other commuters, college students, young mothers with their sons or daughters, it all feels part of a larger system, one cog in a well-oiled machine. Sebastian tells him it's a strange metaphor to apply to coffee shops, but his life often seems like a long line of coffee shops, each holding a small chapter of his life.

He unearths his personal tumblr once it's his turn, but Marley, the girl behind the counter, shakes her head. "Mr Smythe already has your order." She beams and points to the left side of the room, where he quickly spots Sebastian's piercing gaze through the crowd. "He also paid for any extras you might want."

He looks back at Marley and forces himself out of his stupor, eager to go join his boyfriend at the table they met, and had stolen many more dates since. Two minutes later he makes his way over with a chocolate chip cookie.

"Why aren't you at work?" he asks, quickly stealing a kiss off Sebastian's lips before he can answer.

"I took the day off so I could be with my boyfriend." Sebastian smiles sweetly, which immediately tips him off. His boyfriend is up to something.

He takes off his coat and sits down. "That's really sweet, but I have work in half an hour."

"Tina's covering for you, actually."

His eyes narrow on Sebastian's face, but he knows better than to ask.

"So there's no reason why you can't relax and enjoy your favorite coffee at your favorite coffee shop." Sebastian reaches for his hand across the table; their hands meet each other halfway. "With your favorite guy in the whole world."

He smiles softly, "I guess there's not," and sinks comfortably into his seat; if neither of them are expected at work, he's going to enjoy every second of this. It's been too long.

"Don't let your coffee get cold."

He eyes the white mug on the table, the foam bulging over the top decorated with chocolate sprinkles in the shape of a heart. The mug isn't one they normally use here, the usual ones are all painted in bright colors, like Sebastian red-and-blue striped one. He's not sure if the color of his mug should raise suspicions though.

He takes a tentative sip, but the coffee's cooled down enough to drink.

"I've been thinking," Sebastian says, leaning over the table, resting on his elbows. "We haven't taken a vacation in ages. We should head back to Europe sometime."

He stares at his marvelous boyfriend over the edge of his mug, heart melting at the suggestion. It's been three years since their big European adventure, the summer before they both got jobs, the summer before they officially moved in together–they had been in each other's company every minute of every day, often even in the shower. It'd been a once in a lifetime experience, and the thought of having that again gives him goosebumps.

"I'd really love that."

Sebastian smiles, but faces away, a sudden blush in his cheeks he can't quite explain. "Do you remember the day we met?"

"Of course I do."

"You were sitting right here, reading some obscure play for school."

"And you came in with all your swagger and ran into my table."

Sebastian finds his eyes again. "Knocking over your coffee."

"Nearly ruined my books." He takes a few sips from his coffee, cooling down too fast for his taste.

"Ruined your mood pretty good."

"You spilled scalding hot coffee all over my yellow chinos."

"I still remember you hightailing it for the bathroom." Sebastian chuckles. "Great view of your ass."

"But when I came back you had everything cleaned up."

"And I got you a fresh scalding coffee."

He laughs. "God, I really disliked you."

Sebastian's eyes soften. "You warmed up to me."

He shrugs. "Only because of the coffee."

"I made sure this one wasn't so hot."

He blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Killer, I'm dying over here."

He eyes his coffee again. So there is a reason why his mug's different?

"In fact, I think poor Marley's close to passing out."

"Marley?" he asks and glances over his shoulder, but the young girl faces away.

"She poured your coffee."

He stares at his mug again; the coffee's his usual order, so what's so special about it? He lifts the mug and raises it high enough so he can see the bottom, but it's blank, as is the outside of the mug–it's a totally standard white mug.

Unless ...

He takes a few big sips to empty the mug and sure enough, what he first believed to be sediment turns out to be lettering underneath a last layer of his medium drip coffee.

He turns the mug so the liquid shifts.

r r y?

a r r y?

And then he tilts it so all the remaining coffee gathers up along the side.

m e

His heart skips a beat, seven black letters printed on the button of his mug staring back at him. "Sebastian," he whispers, but when he hears a squeal from behind the counter and a few people around them gasping, he knows Sebastian's no longer seated opposite him at the table.

Sebastian has knelt down next to his chair, a ruby red ring box clutched between his fingers. "What do you say, Blaine Anderson," Sebastian says. "Will you marry me?"

Tears blur his vision, but he doesn't waste a second thinking about it.

"Yes," he breathes.


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