First try at a coffee shop AU. They're a guilty pleasure, just like flavored lattes.
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A bitterly cold January day found Sirius Black grateful for the cozy warmth of Madam Puddifoot's. Of course, it could just have been proving so warm because the door hadn't opened since he'd arrived and begun his shift. Sunday mornings were rarely busy as it was, but with the weather outside, and this shop being slightly off his school's campus, he wasn't surprised at the complete lack of customers.
Two and a half hours into his eight-hour day, he was leaning against the register counter, his back to the door. His latte sat forgotten next to him while he stared into space, cracking his knuckles so hard it hurt. All he wanted was a cigarette, but he'd promised James only days before that he'd quit. Not that the git cared about his health, obviously - no, James had argued that it would help his performance on the intramural football team. Sirius wasn't going to admit that he had a point, just like James wasn't going to admit that he didn't want to lose his best friend and roommate to lung cancer. Friday had been the one and only time James had broached the subject, and he had quickly put a lighter spin on the moment, blurting out, "If you die, I have to pay your half of the rent too, so don't you dare."
Of course, James's parents paid his half of the rent, while Sirius worked for his, but he didn't mention that. He had only shrugged and agreed not to die anytime soon, and a single convenience store visit later, James had him convinced to start wearing a nicotine patch. It itched.
There was a terse ahem behind him, and he jumped away from the counter and tried to smile without looking like a nutter. Fortunately, the customer waiting so impatiently was none other than Peter Pettigrew. Peter was making a spectacle of tapping his foot on the linoleum, glaring across the counter at his friend.
"Welcome to Madam Puddifoot's," Sirius said with the usual faux cheer. "What size of tar water can I get for you?"
Peter drew out a long hum, slowing the tapping of his foot. "Instead of coffee, how about you give me a bullet in the back of my head," he suggested, rolling his eyes. "Leblanc's got our first systems architecture assignment out, and I'm already considering dropping out and finding a cozy cardboard box to spend the rest of my life in. If you've got a spare hour or two sometime, I'll give you the technical gobbledygook to explain it." He put his head in his hands, heaving a deep breath. "All I care about is that it works. I'd die without someone to talk to, thank you for listening. You know I appreciate you, right?"
Sirius grimaced. "All right then, one large Americano with an extra shot." He paused. "Do you want that hot or iced?"
Peter seemed affronted. "It's freezing out there!"
"I'm shocked you even went outside today," Sirius said as he grabbed a travel cup for Peter's drink and drew an elaborate penis on it in lieu of a name. "I haven't seen another soul since I started my shift; everyone's too busy hiding under their blankets, I suppose." Peter paid for his drink, and Sirius set about pulling the espresso shots. Peter followed him down the bar, continuing their conversation as his friend's hands moved efficiently over the machines.
"I wouldn't have even bothered coming in," Peter was saying, "except the water in my building shut off again this morning. I swear, they never give us any notice, just say it's emergency maintenance - maybe if they stopped fucking around with it, it'd have a chance to-"
His ranting was cut off by the door's bell jingling, announcing the arrival of another customer (of a real customer, Sirius thought privately). Thankfully, Peter - despite being an aspiring computer engineer - did have some basic understanding of social cues and appropriate public behavior, and he happily switched from complaining about his management company to eyeing the menu as though he'd never seen it before.
Sirius vaguely recognized the young man approaching the counter from around campus. He smiled a welcome as he handed Peter his drink and headed back to the cash register. "What can I do for you?"
"Just a, er, plain coffee for me, please." His wallet was already out by the time he made it to the counter, and he was waiting expectantly for the price. Something was telling Sirius that this wasn't the kid's usual order.
Sirius couldn't help but raise his brows. "You came out in this weather to order a black coffee?" He'd heard of a caffeine dependency, but this was ridiculous.
"The water in my building is out, you see," the sandy-haired customer, who Sirius still could not place, replied. "How much will it be?"
"You live in the Marvin too, then?" Peter was clearly in the mood to complain rather than work on Leblanc's assignment, not that Sirius blamed him.
"Oh, er, yes. I believe we're neighbors, I've seen you around on my floor." He turned to Sirius again, probably for the price of his drink, but his attention was pulled back to Peter.
"Neighbors!" Peter exclaimed brightly. He extended a hand, which the mystery customer could only take listlessly. Peter shook it with conviction, introducing himself. "Thought you looked familiar - I'm Peter Pettigrew. Second year, computer engineering major, and regretting not living in the dorms again. You?"
"Remus Lupin," the customer said, a put-upon smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Also a second year, electrical engineering, and trying to pay for my coffee." He turned back to Sirius and asked with purpose, "How much will it be?"
"That'll depend on the size, you see."
Remus Lupin closed his eyes briefly and took a large breath, in and out. "I'll have a small."
His customer's growing frustration apparent, Sirius took his cue to quit fooling around and serve the bloke. It was the easiest possible drink, and as he put the lid on the freshly poured cup, he turned to see Remus frowning into his wallet. Realizing what was happening, Sirius made a show of exclaiming, "Oh no!"
Remus looked up, a deer in the proverbial headlights.
Sirius continued with the dramatics: "I poured a medium instead of a small! What an egregious error!" He pasted an apologetic smile onto his face. "Well, when I make a mistake, the drink has to be free. So you won't be needing that," he said, looking pointedly at Remus's wallet.
Remus took the drink awkwardly, stutter out something unintelligible, and made his way to the shop's exit. "Th- thank you," he managed to stammer, and then ran out into the cold, nearly sprinting across the street and back into his building.
Peter, who had been quietly watching the entire exchange - and subsequent escape - hummed cheerfully. Sirius glared.
"Is he your type?"
"Don't try to be clever," Sirius grated out, "it doesn't suit you."
"That's not a no." A beat while Peter sipped his drink. "He kind of reminds me of-"
"I gave him the drink because he didn't have any money, Peter, not because I want to shag him."
Another beat, another sip from his Americano. Peter continued. "I mean, you didn't know he'd forgotten his wallet when you gave him the medium. What was that, then?"
"Shut up," Sirius explained. He took a sip of his latte, cringing when the lukewarm espresso and milk hit his tongue.
As Sirius would find out soon, Remus preferred a caffe mocha to plain coffee, but typically chose the cheapest caffeine source possible. His scholarship covered tuition and books, not frivolities.
By the end of February, Sirius was giving him free drink upgrades every time he visited; by mid-March, they were sneaking into movies together (to save money, of course). By the end of April, they were seeing one another exclusively, and by the end of term, Sirius finally made it thirty days without a cigarette. Remus credited his increased caffeine consumption.