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He's looking at his phone while waiting in the cue. When it is his turn and he looks at Rafael, his face turns red.
Really. Rafael does everything to not be complacent about it, but not smirking at all is not a task that he can achieve. He is only human after all.
The guy's physical reaction comes naturally. He's a nodge shy about it, but doesn't try to hide it all the same. It's so pure, that Rafael's heart can barely take it.
"What can I get you, compay?"
If possible the guy turns a little more red and Rafael feels that his expression just got a little more smug.
"Caramel latte with extra caramel drizzle, please."
Please? If every customer was this nice.
"That's very sweet," Rafael comments and gives him the smallest non-smile he can manage.
"Is it?" the guy answers, but swallows hard.
The guy hands Rafael a travel mug. It's one of those that these Fordham students who claim to save the environment buy themselves. Accordingly, the phrase 'Fordham University' is written all over the tumbler, but Rafael forgets to roll his eyes as he's distracted by the man's endearing clanger. Rafael takes the mug out of the guy's hand, purposely letting their fingers touch and he's delighted to see that the guy blushes even more. An opportunity, Rafael couldn't let go to waste.
"Which size?"
"What?" Widened eyes meet Rafael's.
"Large?"
"Uh," the guy clears his throat. "Isn’t it a medium-sized mug?"
“No, it’s a large size,” Rafael sighs. “But we can make it small or medium, if you want.”
“Yeah, no. Large, it is. Please.”
Rafael marks the order with his erasable pen on the travel mug. He presses his lips together, attempting to not show how much he enjoys this little interaction.
"And would you tell me your name?"
The blush spreads over his neck and vanishes somewhere underneath the collar of the guy's hoodie. A terrible choice, Rafael thinks, because the man could cut quite a handsome figure. He's tall, there are plush lips and these blue eyes really have the potential to make Rafael weak. Luckily, he cannot stand a badly dressed man.
"Raymond."
Rafael doesn't need to look into the man’s face to know that this is not his real name. Many customers love to give names of friends or family members they're missing, only to post their coffee mug on Instagram. Students mostly and this one seems to be no exception.
Undeterred, Rafael writes down the name.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Uh, no. Thank you."
There are dimples when he smiles, that doesn't slip Rafael's attention.
The guy gives him a ten dollar bill and just when Rafael searches for the change, the man says: "The rest is for you."
Rafael gives him a short look. Not a lot of students tip, this is the reason why most of the baristas don't like them. Rafael gets it, student loans are crazy. So it's actually nice of the guy, but if he tips because he fancies Rafael, then Rafael can just as well go without it.
Nonetheless, Rafael puts the change into the tip box.
When Rafael doesn’t say anything, it takes a few moments for the guy to realize that he is expected to move on to the end of the counter.
"Have a nice day," the guy says in turn and that's also something Rafael doesn't hear very often. Still, Rafael ignores the guy's friendly wish and takes the next customer's order.
"You didn't say 'thank you' and 'goodbye'," Nick whispers into his ears. The sound of hot water splashing into milk makes it impossible for anyone but Rafael to hear.
"I know," Rafael answers dryly.
"Look, if Liv finds out about this-"
"I don't care!"
Unlike his colleague/friend Nick, Rafael doesn't bother to whisper. He hates working in the coffeeshop and he makes no secret about it.
Because this stupid job drains him endlessly. It leaves him tired when he comes home in the evenings. And this evening is no exception. All Rafael has energy left for is a shower, then he goes straight to bed.
Silence. Darkness. Finally.
Rafael lies on his back and closes his eyes, not to sleep but to feel his body. It aches in his back, his legs. But no migraine tonight.
Rafael breathes out.
This job at the coffeeshop is only meant to be temporary, luckily. And Rafael is determined to keep it that way. Whether he has enough money or not, he will quit in a couple of months, maybe sooner. Before it becomes unbearable, more than it is already.
Doing a shift at the coffeeshop after he already worked an eight hour day as a lawyer at the NGO he's working for is exhausting per se, but even more so he just doesn't like the job. He doesn't know why he thought it'd be a good idea to work as a barista. He likes coffee, he needs money. A coffeeshop came to his mind quickly, but actually working there is a mistake. The endless sound of milk being foamed drives him crazy, haunts him right into the darkness of his small apartment and most of all he hates dealing with customers.
Rafael may like coffee, but he likes buying it, not making it.
Blue eyes come to his mind. Rafael is not surprised that between all his stress, it is this image that gives him a good feeling. The man with his tousled hair and hoodie looked like he unexpectedly stumbled over his attraction to Rafael. Even in the loneliness of his single room apartment Rafael needs to grin at that. It was toothrottenly sweet, like the coffee order, and yet just the right amount.
With a sigh, Rafael picks up his phone. He realizes, he didn't look at it for hours.
One message waits for him. It's from his mother. It's a list with errands he needs to run for abuelita.
She's not the one working two jobs, Rafael thinks.
Once more, he closes his eyes. This time to sleep.
It's very close to the end of his shift and the coffeeshop has become empty. Unenthusiastically, Rafael walks from table to table to wipe with a cloth over the surfaces.
In his mind, he's still at the case he was working in the morning where he's representing a group of black workers suing their employer for letting them work underneath minimum wage. Rafael doesn't hate his lawyer job, not at all, but he hates the workplace. Working for an ngo isn't paid well anyway, but the conditions are just the worst. He feels like he's working his ass off and still stands no chance in cases against big companies.
Ugh, this dull job should distract him from his misery at least. But here Rafael is, cleaning tables and thinking about the law.
"There's a customer," he hears Nick shouting.
Confused Rafael looks to the counter where Nick is cleaning one of the coffee machines, which is why by pure means of proximity a new customer is not Rafael’s primary concern. But Rafael decides to not protest when he detects the tall guy from yesterday. After all, Rafael’s job is easier to be interrupted than Nick’s. So he leaves the cloth on the table and walks behind the counter.
"Hi," Rafael says into a dimpled smile.
"Hello," the guy answers and Rafael is impossibly delighted by the fact that he blushes yet again.
"What can I do for you?"
"Uhm, dry cappuccino, please."
Just like the day before, the man hands him a travel mug that Rafael takes without a word. Fiddling with the pen, Rafael stalls a little while he thinks about commenting on the fact that the guy's coffee order has changed. Rafael dares to give him a look to take him in fully. Unlike the day before, his hair is combed. The eyes are still blue, but tired this time.
As it is already ten o'clock, Rafael can't blame him. He has a book and a notepad clamped under his arm. Rafael vaguely remembers that these items must have been there the day before as well, but he didn’t take a closer look then. It seems like he must have been distracted by the pretty face.
Even out of the corner of his eyes, Rafael recognizes it's a law book. One he studied, too, during his first semester. Tax law I and oh, how it tormented him.
"How many shots?”
"Three, please."
There's actually no mystery to solve here. The guy's a student who's about to pull an all-nighter.
"Name?"
When no answer comes immediately, Rafael looks up. The guy looks back at him expectantly, huffy maybe. But Rafael just shrugs his shoulders. He cannot and he doesn't care to remember every fake name customers tell him, no matter how cute they are.
"Rogelio."
Rafael blinks. Usually he just writes down whatever name he hears, and sometimes wrongly on purpose. Spite is a character trait running through his veins. But at the end of the day, he just wants to get through his shift. The stupidity of the common coffee drinker usually doesn’t get to him.
This one though annoys him and inexplicably, Rafael allows him to have that effect on him. It's obvious that the man in front of him wants to tease him. Not to amuse himself, but to see how Rafael reacts.
It's not flirting. It's not inappropriate. It's just- annoying. And it bothers Rafael that he feels bothered.
Rafael writes the name on the travel mug and starts preparing the order himself as Nick is still busy with cleaning. It’s not very often that Rafael prepares the coffee, but it has something to do with his pride that he makes perfect coffee.
It would be easy to just get the order wrong.
Wouldn’t that be silly?
Biting his lips, Rafael foams milk and prepares a triple espresso shot. Carefully, he fills it all into the mug. When he’s done, Rafael hands the guy his coffee.
“Thank you. Uhm, have a nice evening.”
It’s sweet how friendly the guy is, but Rafael doesn’t answer anyway.
Which doesn’t mean that he isn’t checking him out when he walks out of the shop. The man is tall, again that comes to Rafael’s attention and Rafael has a soft spot for that. Long arms and legs seem to be dangling everywhere around the man’s body. He appears to be wearing an apparently new, very tight fitting pair of jeans that shows off a well-shaped ass. In a club this one would definitely draw Rafael’s attention.
A short sigh escapes Rafael’s lips.
“You didn’t say ‘thank you’ or ‘goodbye’.”
Rafael needs a moment or two to realize that his colleague/friend Nick is talking to him. And when he does, he only rolls his eyes.
“Liv also says we should talk in full sentences.”
“Claro que si.”
Not even to argue, Rafael has no energy left.
He’s only in bed around two am that night because he needed to see abuelita before going home. She’s not good, it worries Rafael. Unfortunately, the worries do not help him at all.
His days are endlessly long anyway. All he can do to help is find her the spot in that home. As soon as he will have enough money piled up, he’ll get her all the help she needs. Until then, he’ll live with the pressure of it every day.
Silence and darkness. Rafael tries to find the beauty in it.
It has become a routine. Just a moment before going to sleep, Rafael tries to shut everything out. To find a moment that is just his. So that he can stay sane and doesn’t feel like his life contains only worries about abuelita, a lawyer job he wants to quit and working at the coffeeshop.
At least there is one little thing brightening up his day. This beautiful boy who is neither called Raymond nor Rogelio seems so friendly, such a pure character. Life hasn’t thrown a genuinely kind person Rafael’s way very often.
Although he realizes that the guy must be five or six years younger than him and a little green behind the ears, Rafael cannot deny that he feels flattered by his attention. That only reminds him how much time must have passed since he last went to a bar and picked someone up.
Not much left, Rafael tells himself. Just another month or two at the coffeeshop and he’ll have enough money gathered up to put down the deposit for abuelita. And he’ll quit the ngo as soon as he gets a job at the DA’s office in one of New York’s boroughs. Not much left.
Then he’ll be able to take care of everything, everyone, without working himself to death.
His next shift at the coffeeshop is not before a week later. Rafael spent the last days holding his mother’s hand in various doctor’s offices. Abuelita had fainted the day after Rafael visited her. He had received the call from his mother while he was at work. Since then Rafael dealt with doctor’s visits and had to call in sick at the coffeeshop.
Low blood sugar, old blood pipes. Rafael’s head hurts from all the things the doctors said to them. While the explanation might be complicated, the conclusion is simple: These are all illnesses that come with abuelita’s age, sooner or later she will be in need of care. Of course, his mother is worrying sick about her mother and Rafael can’t stop worrying about how they will pay for all those medical bills.
Not that his most favorite person in the world’s fainting health is already saddening enough, between his lawyer job and doctor’s appointments Rafael doesn’t find much more than this one little moment to himself before going to bed. He doesn’t want to feel like he’s all alone. Rafael wishes for (needs) change.
Despite all that, Rafael is able to push the melancholy aside. Because he finally has a date, it’s a week later. He received the confirmation email in the morning. A date for a job interview at the DA’s office in Brooklyn. The job he wants all along.
This is how Rafael’s shift seemingly flies by. He spends it in a kind of bubble, deep in thought. About what he has to say. How to present himself. Determined to spend some of the money he earned so far on a suit, a suit that will get him that ADA job.
“This guy came here every day,” Nick whispers into Rafael’s ear.
Once again, Rafael needs a few moments to understand what Nick means. Rafael’s head was occupied thinking about colors, cuts and what information about himself he would need to casually slip into a conversation. Everything else happened on autopilot.
It is a set of blue eyes that bring Rafael back into the moment.
Maybe a smile slips from his lips, Rafael only hopes that he is able to catch himself quick enough.
The guy looks tired, again, and stunningly beautiful all the same. His hair, dirty blond in color, looks undone, a henley and denims round up the picture of a guy who’s alarm probably rang too early. Time to put on more or less decent clothes was all he had time for before starting his obviously very long day. There are shadows under his eyes and considering the exhaustion in his face, Rafael guesses that he neither got enough sleep nor water or whatever a human body needs to function properly.
Therefore, it is admirable to see the spirit of ambition still flickering in his eyes. Books, more tax law apparently, are still or again in his hand, ready to be turned around in agony. Anyhow, a rather goofy grin puts a kind expression on his face. There’s no doubt that the guy is happy with who he finds behind the counter.
It just feels right. That this guy is here when Rafael feels like there’s something to celebrate.
This is why he looks the guy straight in his eyes. His eyes linger, it’s a little on the nose and Rafael sees how the guy squirms under the unexpected attention.
“Hello,” he greets Rafael.
“Hi,” he only replies, waiting for the other man’s reaction. And when the guy blushes, Rafael doesn’t hide his own smile. There’s no way for the other man to not understand that Rafael went exactly for that. To elicit the reaction he was hoping to receive. “What can I do for you?”
“Yeah,” the guy clears his throat. “Dry cappuccino, please.”
“Three espresso shots.”
“Yeah,” the guy huffs.
The corner of Rafael’s mouth twitches when the guy misses to hand him over his travel mug. It’s uselessly pressed into his right hand. Apparently, the man must be distracted by staring back at Rafael for he doesn’t realize why nobody moves.
Cruel as Rafael is, he doesn’t let him know and just waits.
It is Nick who destroys a perfect situation.
“Do you want a paper cup or should we prepare your beverage in your personal mug?”
One, two, three. A few heartbeats pass, until the guy wakes up from his trance. Without actually looking at Nick, but very much realizing that he’s holding everyone up, the man hands Rafael his travel mug slowly: “Sorry.”
Rafael isn’t, not the slightest bit.
“And what do you go by today?”
Yet again, dimples dip into his cheek when he shows a set of white teeth: “Ronald.”
“Add some caramel drizzle, Nick,” Rafael says nonchalantly while marking the order on the cup and ignores Nick’s confused look. Instead, looking into the one across the counter.
“Liv doesn’t want us to hand out gifts to-,” Nick whispers to Rafael, although he is ignored by the two men.
“Oh, I love some- but I really didn’t-”
"Drizzle’s on me. Can't all be dry tonight," Rafael says pointing to the guy's book.
With a look at Rafael’s name tag, he answers, rather abashed: “Thank you, Rafael.”
Immediately, Rafael feels embarrassed for wanting to see these blue eyes glowing along with the smile he receives in return.
Well, the smile is the one of the nicest things to remember about the day when Rafael lies in bed at night, exhausted, very much. But with a smile on his face.
The interview is behind him. So is the visit to abuela in the hospital in the morning.
“Complications of diabetes” is the impossible short way of abuela’s doctors to summon up her condition.
And now Rafael doesn’t know what he waits for the most: a yes on the job or abuelita out of the hospital.
It’s the unfortunate situation that Rafael feels like sitting at the edge of his life’s seat at only 28 years of age: Rafael needs two positive answers or else, he doesn’t even want to think of the consequences. The turn he wanted for his life is suddenly there. As a matter of consequence it’s supposed to be a turn for the better, but it is most innately the turn Rafael had worked for so long. The path he has chosen, that is now overshadowed by abuela’s terrible condition.
Rafael was very close to quitting the coffeeshop job when he learned that abuela needed to stay in the hospital. At least getting a physical break seemed like a good idea. Not just the fact that he’ll need every penny to be able to meet the expenses of abuelita’s care, also the tender crush he had developed on the man just walking in, kept Rafael from making that decision.
“Hi, what can I do for you?”
The guy literally comes every day. Always with a book of law in his hands, a smile on his lips and a slight blush on his cheeks. He also got a haircut sometime during the week. While Rafael avoids too many words, the guy tries to trick him into a conversation by elaborating on his coffee order while he obviously wants to talk about everything but. (In the worst one of all New York accents, the guy told him that he has an aunt drinking black coffee with five sugars among expert opinions about the dryness of cappuccino). Rafael does smile back sometimes, but still doesn’t engage further than that. The fact that there are always other customers helps.
“He’s basically drooling on the counter,” was Nick’s comment on that, warning Rafael that making himself scarce is a way to make himself more interesting to the beautiful stranger.
Rafael doesn’t care much about that. All he cares for is the little summersault his heart does when the guy’s eyes look bluer everytime.
Today is no exception. The last half an hour of opening hours is usually a quiet one. Rafael is somewhat happy that his shift is over while also deeply unhappy about receiving no news on his tending worries. Which, in conclusion, makes Rafael all the more relieved that he gets the chance to have a closer look at those adorable wrinkles around the eyes of the guy with the silly names.
Rafael can only guess that the guy’s happiness stems from the fact that he’s done with exams. The lack of a book speaks for that theory as does the man’s coffee order.
“Caramel latte, extra caramel drizzle. And uh,” he wets his lips. “Whatever you’re having.”
Surprised, Rafael looks up to him. The other man holds Rafael’s gaze who only needs a few moments to collect himself. Then he smirks.
It’s important that he keeps the upper hand.
His heart has just skipped a beat as Rafael didn’t expect that. How many weeks did Rafael look into that bashful grin, he doesn’t know. Underneath all the bearishness, Rafael didn’t expect him to be this straight-forward. And isn’t that something Rafael likes? The attention, unsolicited as well as welcome, lacked determination to pull through with it, leading Rafael to feel the safety of uncommitedness.
“Excuse me?”
Rafael is very aware that Nick and the other girl who works here (whatever her name is) are observing the situation openly. He is also very aware that their boss probably has a policy against flirting with customers. But where he didn’t care before, he cares even less now.
“You got me through those exam weeks, Rafael. Just a way to thank you.”
For a long moment, they look at each other. The guy might as well just mean it, is what Rafael understands. The guy’s expression is friendly, his posture easy. Rafael doesn’t feel tricked into a situation he doesn’t want to be in, even though there are two colleagues watching them. A kind gesture, and Rafael decides to take it.
“Dark roast, tall- large,” Rafael says, directed at Nick next to him, but he doesn’t mind turning his head.
“What?” Nick exclaims.
Instead Rafael watches the guy’s reaction who beams up, quite openly.
“No Fordham Law mug this time?” Rafael asks.
“Nah.” Staten Island street spills out of these three letters and Rafael starts to get the hang of it. “Enough with the law. I’m off tonight.”
The guy runs a hand through his hair and his expression shifts. The blush returns and the way he bites his lips, tells Rafael that he suddenly got nervous. A sentiment Rafael shares.
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“So,” Rafael straightens his back and reaches for a paper cup. His pen ready in his hand. “You know my name, time to tell me yours.”
He just stands there, in front of the counter. But for some reason, the guy manages to somehow half-trip when he takes a step forward.
“Sonny.”
A black dot is already marked on the spot where Rafael wanted to start writing the name.
“Sorry?”
“Sonny.”
“What is that? Sonny & Cher?”
“No,” the guy lets out a genuine laugh.
“If there was a pattern of the names you gave me before, I didn’t get it.”
“No, you can call me Sonny. It’s my name.”
"Your real one?"
"You could write down your number. I can call you later and you can find out."
Eyebrow still raised, pen and paper cup still in hand. Rafael starts to grin and gives the guy an impressed nod. He allowed him to be led into this one, Rafael guesses.
The bashfulness of coming in for weeks, of just lingering around until something happens. The clumsy choice of conversation (Rafael doesn't care about the uncle having a heart attack after fifteen espressos) and the overall impression that he's new to flirting, doesn't do anything to lessen the guy's confidence in any way. Rafael cannot help but be intrigued.
All the more it stings when Rafael doesn't write his phone number on the paper cup.
"See you, stranger," Rafael says, looking into these blue eyes. "And thank you, really." You helped me getting through these last weeks as well.
"Always," he answers and gives Rafael another one of those smiles.
The two women who raised him keep telling that he's still young (and very handsome), but even before thirty Rafael feels like he's past that point. Being a lawyer already takes up all of his energy and it will even more, if he wants to get where he wants to be. The little of what Rafael has left of the day already isn't enough to handle everything he has to or wants. There's simply no space for someone.
It's been a long time since he last slept with someone and that would be nice. But the little ache in his chest tells Rafael that with this man, Sonny or whatever his name is, he couldn't leave it at that.
A boyfriend, he didn't miss one. Which doesn't mean he didn't like one all the same. It's just that his life is not available for it. There's neither time nor space, quite literally.
Rafael doesn't speak a word for the rest of his shift and Nick finds the courtesy to not ask him to.
All the more surprised Rafael is when he finds the man of his thoughts in front of the coffeeshop when he and Nick close up. Lingering yet again.
"Pasalo bien," Nick whispers to Rafael before he leaves quickly.
The guy waits patiently for Nick to disappear, before his approaches Rafael slowly with a box of Tupperware (???) in his hand.
"I'm sorry, you said 'see you'. Did I get this wrong?"
"Did you?"
"Because I happen to make great lasagna." The guy holds up said Tupper box. "You can either take it home or we can find a nice spot to have it."
"You don't give up, do you?"
"It's up to you."
This is when Rafael just makes the decision.
"My place is just a block away from here."
It's acting on an impulse and trusting his instinct, the only argument is the man in front of him.
"Oh, great. Perfect," Sonny beams.
The idea of food, a warm homemade meal in his stomach, and someone next to him in bed seems like a very good idea. Too good to be true. Not being alone anymore is in a way more than Rafael can hope for.