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The Best There is at What I Do (The Cat Cafe Remix)

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The Rock walked by Xavier's Cat Cafe every day on his way to and from teaching cooking classes to the children at the orphanage, but he'd never taken the time stop inside. Today, though, he's exhausted from staying out late to street race with his friend Jesse Pinkman and could really use some snuggle time with a cat or two, so he goes inside.

The place is surprisingly empty, save for a man reading a magazine behind the counter. He's not bad looking, either--short, but compact and muscular. He looks up as The Rock approaches, then does a double take and stands up straight.

"Afternoon," he says. "What'll it be?"

The Rock tears his gaze away from the stranger and stares up at the menu.

"What's your specialty?" he asks.

"I'm the best there is at what I do, and what I do best is make espresso," the man says. The Rock can't help but chuckle.

"I like your style," he says. "I'll take a triple."

The man raises his eyebrows and nods. "To stay or go?" he asks.

"I'd like to stay," The Rock says. If it comes out sounding flirtatious...well. He's not opposed to the man getting that idea about him.

By the look on his face, he's not opposed to it either.

"Name?" he asks.

"The Rock," The Rock says.

"Logan," the man says. "Have a seat. It'll be right up."

The Rock takes a seat at a table where he can see Logan work. There's a grey cat sitting on the chair across from him, and he reaches out absently to pet it.

"I'd avoid that one if I were you," Logan says, but it's too late, The Rock is already scratching the cat behind his ears. The cat looks momentarily perturbed, but preens under the attention. "Well, fuck me."

The Rock refrains from telling Logan that he'd very much like a chance to do just that.

"That's Hello Duarte," Logan continues. "Meanest cat in this place. We don't even let him out during busy times. Had to be declawed twice because he grew more spite claws after the first time. I've never seen him let someone pet him before."

"He seems nice enough," The Rock says, rubbing Hello Duarte's neck as he purrs.

"I'll be damned," Logan says. He comes out from behind the counter with The Rock's coffee. "On the house, for taming the beast." He hands The Rock the coffee, as well as a receipt. There's a number scribbled on the bottom. "In case you want to tame any other beasts," Logan adds.

"I might be persuaded to do that," The Rock says, and takes a sip of the espresso. It's by far the best he's ever had.

"I get off at six," Logan says.

The Rock smiles and takes another drink. If Logan fucks anything like he makes coffee, tomorrow morning The Rock is looking forward to being tired for entirely different reasons.