[ Looks like his flirting has flown right over Steve's head then. Aww, man. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices that Riley's quieted down a little, has taken to staring disapprovingly at Steve while muttering to his phone. Deciding to just ignore his friend, he shakes his head, waving away Steve's objections. ]
Man, don't worry about it. It's on the house.
[ If he seems a little more dejected now than he did just a moment ago, all he can really do is hope that Steve doesn't notice. He turns back to make his latte, managing to complete the drink without any major mishaps.
When it comes time to add in the foam art though, he pauses, unsure of just what to attempt now. A simple smiley face would probably be safest, but he'd originally wanted to try a heart if he'd gotten some sense that Steve might reciprocate his interest. ]
[ That Steve notices. He's observant, he's just not great with innuendo, so even without the muttering in the background he can tell he's said something wrong, and knits his eyebrows together to try and work back to what it was. He wouldn't make Sam pay out of pocket for a mistake, especially given the way Steve egged him into it. It wouldn't feel right. And he thought he was being obvious that he'd drink anything Sam set in front of him, because he liked...
Oh. Oh.
He rubs his forehead to mask his grimace. Steve, you blockhead. He flushes with nerves, his aggravation with himself battling for dominance over his surprise that Sam could be flirting back. Idiot, he literally asked to buy him a drink, and it flew right over his head. ]
Thanks. But I'll pay for the next one. At least let me put something in your tip jar. [ He's too embarrassed to attempt much eye contact, which Sam may not even notice now that he's moved off to work on his drink. His eyes land on his sketchpad, and he suddenly brightens with an idea. ] Reimbursement for dealing with your first pain-in-the-ass customer.
[ He laughs self-deprecatingly, rubbing the back of his neck. ]
[ It's quiet for a while behind him as Sam makes Steve's drink before the blond starts to talk, his voice some starting out hesitant and turning determined and apologetic by the end. It sounds like he's laughing at himself, too, and Sam glances back at him, feeling a touch concerned. Steve won't meet his eyes, his cheeks flushed with pink as he rubs at the back of his neck, and damned if that image doesn't inspire Sam. ]
Well. You know... [ The words come out slowly, as thoughts tumble around in his head wildly. Riley's gone silent in his corner, as if assessing the situation, and Sam's almost afraid that he'll wander over now in an attempt to save Sam from himself, so the rest of his reply comes out in a rush. ]
That sounds pretty fair. [ The words "the next one" make Steve's earlier objection sound a little more promising, so Sam flashes him a small smile. ] Just let me finish up with this foam, and then you can tell me how this tastes, okay?
[ He ends up doing some kind of heart with a smiley face in the middle, and it's not amazing but it's not terrible. Judging from Riley's snort - having seemingly come up to the counter finally - from over his shoulder, Sam suspects he's just a little biased with regard to his own work, but whatever. If Steve laughs, then. Hey, at least he made Captain America laugh, even if it's at the expense of his dignity and the chances of scoring his number. ]
Here you go. [ Carefully, the brings the cup back over to Steve, sliding it closer to him. ] Enjoy.
[ Steve's fought through a lot, but the stony blond in the corner is making him sweat more than any mission ever did. By this point it's obvious he's more than just Sam's coworker, and Steve gets the distinct impression that if he doesn't make this right he's going to be looking for a new coffee shop soon, assuming he doesn't like salt in his coffee.
The change in Sam's demeanor is slight, but enough to make Steve smile shyly and nod, dropping his gaze to his hands when Sam turns back to the foam. He taps the pencil from the spine of his sketchpad, and quickly etches something out. ]
All joking aside, I'm sure it's great. [ He rips the piece of paper from the book and folds it in half when he gets the sense Sam is almost done, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet and pulling out a more than reasonable tip. He slips both into the jar on the counter just as Sam's walking back, casually pushing his pad aside so it doesn't alert suspicion.
When he sees the drawing in the foam he blinks, and then all but softens like butter on warm bread. There's nothing that could wipe the smile off his face now. ] What are you talking about? You clearly have talent.
[ He's almost reluctant to take a sip, but he doesn't photograph his food like Clint does and he isn't about to blow it with Sam again, so he picks it up and sips cautiously. His eyebrows tic, and after licking the foam from his lip he's forced to chuckle. ]
You know, we never discussed a prize for being the first person to change my usual.
[ Sam doesn't notice what Steve slipped in with his money into the tip jar, but Riley - who's been watching the whole exchange like a hawk - certainly has.
Steve's smile though, all warm and fond and directed right at him, makes Sam feel like he's 16 years old all over again with butterflies in his stomach. He's not sure how he can possibly be this far gone over a guy he's met just 10 minutes ago, but there's likely no going back now.
It's with a touch of anxiety that he watches Steve try his drink, but it seems like he enjoys it well enough, based on his reaction. He grins, finally trying to regain his earlier demeanor before his confidence got shaken. ]
Does that mean that I'm in the running for that prize?
[ Sam wouldn't really call sassing Steve Rogers pushing his luck, but hey, go big or go home, right? ]
[ So Riley is Sam's own personal Bucky, hanging over Sam's shoulder with his sniper rifle pointed at any oncoming threat. Steve can respect that, even appreciate it, so long as Riley stays cool and doesn't blow the surprise too soon. A flash of pleading blue eyes and a tight smile will hopefully do the trick.
Steve laughs, all nervous energy and charmed expressions. ]
You're on the ballot. I might need to see what else you can do before I make up my mind, though.
[ He scratches his cheek, noticing how hot his skin feels under his fingertips. He just hopes he's maintained some sense of cool without looking like a ripe tomato. ]
As for the prize... [ He shrugs a little, looking up through his lashes. ] Let me buy you a drink next time?
[ Riley still looks unimpressed as fuck by just how little game Captain America has. At the very least though, Riley gives Steve a considering look before he wanders off to his corner again though up close before he moves away, they can pretty much hear what he's been muttering to his phone - a quiet narration to his phone about what sounds suspiciously like the mating rituals of the samus dweebus and the patriotus steebus.
Sam refuses to look at his best friend - the traitor - and resolutely pretends he's not turning red where he stands. His only real consolation at this point is the fact that Steve's blushing, too. They're just lucky that no one else has come in yet. ]
Oh, is that how we're doing this? Haven't even finished your first drink and already angling for another one. You going to offer up a suggestion for it this time around?
[ Sam's quick to bounce back, now that he knows he's got a chance. He flashes Steve a grin, warm and teasing, inwardly cursing Steve Rogers's eyelashes for being so damned pretty. He pretends to pause and think the proposal over. He's got to make Steve work for this after that brief moment of dejection Sam faced, but he doesn't let him wait too long. ]
Throw in a drink and a pastry, and sure. We might have to do that at a different coffee shop though. [ His eyes flicker over to Riley meaningfully. ]
[ Cut him some slack, Riley. He's been on ice since 1945. Not a lot of game to be had when you're a popsicle.
And yeah, he can joke about that, but don't anybody tell Stark about it.
Steve freezes when he catches that last bit of Riley's narration, and then chokes on a laugh. He's got a good sense of humor, nobody can deny that, but he doesn't want to make Sam uncomfortable again. If he's pretending nothing happened, then so will Steve (even if that new glow in his cheeks is hard to look away from). ]
That's how we're doing this. [ He grins, relieved Sam hasn't turned him down outright. ] I promise, next time I step up to this counter I'll have something better to say.
[ He's going to rehearse, Sam. That's how much you're worth it, especially once Steve's offer is accepted. He breathes a sigh of relief, brightening like a 100-watt bulb. He opens his mouth to quip back, but the bell on the shop's door jingles. Well, another customer was bound to walk in sometime.
Deal. [ He grabs his things, totally oblivious to how he looks like a nervous, grinning schoolboy now. Not that he can help it. ] Thanks, Sam.
[ He hates walking away, but he's not going to get Sam into trouble on his first day on the job. So he takes a table in the corner, and tries not to keep glancing over at him.
Whenever Sam gets around to looking in the tip jar, he'll find that neatly folded piece of paper (and the generous tip). It's a rough doodle of Sam and Steve, Sam smiling with those big soulful eyes, and Steve frowning as egg drips off his face. It's kinda impressive how much detail Steve was able to draw while Sam worked with his drink, even if other parts of the drawing are more raw. Underneath the cartoon are two printed sentences:
I'm an idiot, but if you'll give me another shot meet me when your shift is over? I'll be at one of the tables on your left. ]
Edited 2015-06-22 19:38 (UTC)
because he wants you to up the ante, steve, come on
[ That nervous, grinning schoolboy look is actually really attractive on Steve, and Sam takes a moment to stare after him before Riley clears his throat behind him so they can start serving customers.
Sure enough, as if to make up for the time where Steve had been their only customer, they suddenly get slammed with the morning rush of people, all seemingly late and in a rush to get where they need to go. He hopes that Steve will stick around long enough until Sam can go on break or - even better - off shift, but Sam knows the blond has better things to do with his time. He can't really see the table in the corner that Steve has claimed as his own, so he has no idea if the other man has up and left already.
Eventually, things do wind down, and they've earned a fair amount in their tip jar. Sam's not all that interested in the bills crammed in there for once though. Once there are no more customers to serve for the time being, Riley takes over at the counter so that Sam can fish out the paper Steve had tucked into the jar.
The little doodle of him is actually pretty good, and the note underneath makes him smile widely and glance over frantically to Steve's table though he has to twist a bit to manage it. Surprisingly enough, Steve's still there.
Even more surprising though is Natasha walking in the door, about half an hour too early for her shift. Startled, Sam turns to Riley, eyebrows raised, which his best friend just answers with a shit-eating grin. Apparently, narrating Sam's pathetic attempts at wooing Steve wasn't the only thing he'd been doing with his cellphone earlier. ]
I hate to say it, but I owe you guys, [ Sam mutters to the both of them once Nat's behind the counter with them, and both just wave him off, looking amused. Nat demands details of their little date once it's over, but Riley just snorts and wishes him luck.
Considering how things had gone down earlier, he'll need it.
He finishes up in the back as quickly as he can and soon heads over to Steve's table, hoping he doesn't look as nervous as he feels. ]
So, uh. Sorry if that took longer than expected.
oh is that how it is? this little birdie's gotten bold!
[ Steve stays faithfully, until the last customer leaves. On days when he doesn't have training or a mission he usually spends his time in coffee shops anyway, sketching or writing or just people-watching. He hasn't exactly found a hobby outside of work yet, so there's nothing pushing him out the door.
But he does get nervous after a while. His leg bounces gently under the table, partly from the caffeine and partly from anxiety. He thinks about getting up for a refill after he finishes his latte, but they're so busy up there he doesn't want to add to it. And maybe Sam saw the note, and thought it was lame. Man, he really does have to work on his flirting skills.
He's just about talked himself out of anything happening when he sees Sam lean over the counter out of the corner of his eye, and feels a little rush of excitement. He's smiling. That can't be all bad, right? So he settles back into his seat, a little bolstered, and waits. ]
No! No, it's OK. [ He straightens up in his seat, smiles, smooths his palms down the knees of his slacks, gets up, rubs the back of his neck -- yeah, Sam doesn't have to worry about looking too nervous. Steve debates pulling out a chair for him, but he's not sure if that's the way things are done anymore. ] You looked pretty busy up there, and I wasn't sure you'd want to join me.
[ If Sam were aware of Steve's thoughts, he'd probably volunteer himself as a willing partner for Steve to practice his flirting skill on. As it is, he smiles, sliding into the seat across from Steve and more than willing to pick up where they'd started (though hopefully with less embarrassment on both sides now).
Laughing, he shakes his head in agreement. ]
Yeah. I don't know about you, but I think there's some kind of conspiracy going on. [ He glances back over his shoulder at the counter where Natasha grins knowingly and wiggles her fingers at them in a wave. Turning back to Steve, his expression turns a little apologetic. ]
Sorry if Riley made you feel uncomfortable earlier. He can be a jerk sometimes, but he's actually my best bud, though Nat comes close, too.
[ He flounders a little for what else to say, flushing a little when he realizes he's still got his apron on. ] Uh. So. I think I remember something about a drink and a pastry being mentioned?
[ Volunteer or not, Sam's going to have a front row ticket to the show. Steve doesn't have any practice flirting, no. He isn't always smooth. But he is confident, which stems from growing up a scrappy little punk in the boroughs, which means nervousness aside when there's something he wants, he goes for it.
He smiles lopsidedly, glancing over at the counter. Natasha doesn't strike an imposing figure like Riley does, but he has this feeling about her. Like he'd better mind his P's and Q's.
He shakes his head at the apology, and laughs. ]
I'm not sure I'd call it a conspiracy. Don't worry, I used to have a friend like that. He's just looking out for you. [ He smiles wistfully, playing with the edge of his cup. ] N-not that he has any reason to worry.
[ He rubs the back of his neck, breathing another laugh. ]
Yeah, you remember right. And, uh, you said something about getting that drink at another place?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i'm sorry, i don't know how this turned out like this
Man, don't worry about it. It's on the house.
[ If he seems a little more dejected now than he did just a moment ago, all he can really do is hope that Steve doesn't notice. He turns back to make his latte, managing to complete the drink without any major mishaps.
When it comes time to add in the foam art though, he pauses, unsure of just what to attempt now. A simple smiley face would probably be safest, but he'd originally wanted to try a heart if he'd gotten some sense that Steve might reciprocate his interest. ]
sdlghsdg no it's all good, Steve's a doofus
Oh. Oh.
He rubs his forehead to mask his grimace. Steve, you blockhead. He flushes with nerves, his aggravation with himself battling for dominance over his surprise that Sam could be flirting back. Idiot, he literally asked to buy him a drink, and it flew right over his head. ]
Thanks. But I'll pay for the next one. At least let me put something in your tip jar. [ He's too embarrassed to attempt much eye contact, which Sam may not even notice now that he's moved off to work on his drink. His eyes land on his sketchpad, and he suddenly brightens with an idea. ] Reimbursement for dealing with your first pain-in-the-ass customer.
[ He laughs self-deprecatingly, rubbing the back of his neck. ]
no subject
Well. You know... [ The words come out slowly, as thoughts tumble around in his head wildly. Riley's gone silent in his corner, as if assessing the situation, and Sam's almost afraid that he'll wander over now in an attempt to save Sam from himself, so the rest of his reply comes out in a rush. ]
That sounds pretty fair. [ The words "the next one" make Steve's earlier objection sound a little more promising, so Sam flashes him a small smile. ] Just let me finish up with this foam, and then you can tell me how this tastes, okay?
[ He ends up doing some kind of heart with a smiley face in the middle, and it's not amazing but it's not terrible. Judging from Riley's snort - having seemingly come up to the counter finally - from over his shoulder, Sam suspects he's just a little biased with regard to his own work, but whatever. If Steve laughs, then. Hey, at least he made Captain America laugh, even if it's at the expense of his dignity and the chances of scoring his number. ]
Here you go. [ Carefully, the brings the cup back over to Steve, sliding it closer to him. ] Enjoy.
no subject
The change in Sam's demeanor is slight, but enough to make Steve smile shyly and nod, dropping his gaze to his hands when Sam turns back to the foam. He taps the pencil from the spine of his sketchpad, and quickly etches something out. ]
All joking aside, I'm sure it's great. [ He rips the piece of paper from the book and folds it in half when he gets the sense Sam is almost done, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet and pulling out a more than reasonable tip. He slips both into the jar on the counter just as Sam's walking back, casually pushing his pad aside so it doesn't alert suspicion.
When he sees the drawing in the foam he blinks, and then all but softens like butter on warm bread. There's nothing that could wipe the smile off his face now. ] What are you talking about? You clearly have talent.
[ He's almost reluctant to take a sip, but he doesn't photograph his food like Clint does and he isn't about to blow it with Sam again, so he picks it up and sips cautiously. His eyebrows tic, and after licking the foam from his lip he's forced to chuckle. ]
You know, we never discussed a prize for being the first person to change my usual.
no subject
Steve's smile though, all warm and fond and directed right at him, makes Sam feel like he's 16 years old all over again with butterflies in his stomach. He's not sure how he can possibly be this far gone over a guy he's met just 10 minutes ago, but there's likely no going back now.
It's with a touch of anxiety that he watches Steve try his drink, but it seems like he enjoys it well enough, based on his reaction. He grins, finally trying to regain his earlier demeanor before his confidence got shaken. ]
Does that mean that I'm in the running for that prize?
[ Sam wouldn't really call sassing Steve Rogers pushing his luck, but hey, go big or go home, right? ]
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Steve laughs, all nervous energy and charmed expressions. ]
You're on the ballot. I might need to see what else you can do before I make up my mind, though.
[ He scratches his cheek, noticing how hot his skin feels under his fingertips. He just hopes he's maintained some sense of cool without looking like a ripe tomato. ]
As for the prize... [ He shrugs a little, looking up through his lashes. ] Let me buy you a drink next time?
keywords tbh
Sam refuses to look at his best friend - the traitor - and resolutely pretends he's not turning red where he stands. His only real consolation at this point is the fact that Steve's blushing, too. They're just lucky that no one else has come in yet. ]
Oh, is that how we're doing this? Haven't even finished your first drink and already angling for another one. You going to offer up a suggestion for it this time around?
[ Sam's quick to bounce back, now that he knows he's got a chance. He flashes Steve a grin, warm and teasing, inwardly cursing Steve Rogers's eyelashes for being so damned pretty. He pretends to pause and think the proposal over. He's got to make Steve work for this after that brief moment of dejection Sam faced, but he doesn't let him wait too long. ]
Throw in a drink and a pastry, and sure. We might have to do that at a different coffee shop though. [ His eyes flicker over to Riley meaningfully. ]
wow rude, why do you want to hurt him like that?
And yeah, he can joke about that, but don't anybody tell Stark about it.
Steve freezes when he catches that last bit of Riley's narration, and then chokes on a laugh. He's got a good sense of humor, nobody can deny that, but he doesn't want to make Sam uncomfortable again. If he's pretending nothing happened, then so will Steve (even if that new glow in his cheeks is hard to look away from). ]
That's how we're doing this. [ He grins, relieved Sam hasn't turned him down outright. ] I promise, next time I step up to this counter I'll have something better to say.
[ He's going to rehearse, Sam. That's how much you're worth it, especially once Steve's offer is accepted. He breathes a sigh of relief, brightening like a 100-watt bulb. He opens his mouth to quip back, but the bell on the shop's door jingles. Well, another customer was bound to walk in sometime.
Deal. [ He grabs his things, totally oblivious to how he looks like a nervous, grinning schoolboy now. Not that he can help it. ] Thanks, Sam.
[ He hates walking away, but he's not going to get Sam into trouble on his first day on the job. So he takes a table in the corner, and tries not to keep glancing over at him.
Whenever Sam gets around to looking in the tip jar, he'll find that neatly folded piece of paper (and the generous tip). It's a rough doodle of Sam and Steve, Sam smiling with those big soulful eyes, and Steve frowning as egg drips off his face. It's kinda impressive how much detail Steve was able to draw while Sam worked with his drink, even if other parts of the drawing are more raw. Underneath the cartoon are two printed sentences:
I'm an idiot, but if you'll give me another shot meet me when your shift is over? I'll be at one of the tables on your left. ]
because he wants you to up the ante, steve, come on
Sure enough, as if to make up for the time where Steve had been their only customer, they suddenly get slammed with the morning rush of people, all seemingly late and in a rush to get where they need to go. He hopes that Steve will stick around long enough until Sam can go on break or - even better - off shift, but Sam knows the blond has better things to do with his time. He can't really see the table in the corner that Steve has claimed as his own, so he has no idea if the other man has up and left already.
Eventually, things do wind down, and they've earned a fair amount in their tip jar. Sam's not all that interested in the bills crammed in there for once though. Once there are no more customers to serve for the time being, Riley takes over at the counter so that Sam can fish out the paper Steve had tucked into the jar.
The little doodle of him is actually pretty good, and the note underneath makes him smile widely and glance over frantically to Steve's table though he has to twist a bit to manage it. Surprisingly enough, Steve's still there.
Even more surprising though is Natasha walking in the door, about half an hour too early for her shift. Startled, Sam turns to Riley, eyebrows raised, which his best friend just answers with a shit-eating grin. Apparently, narrating Sam's pathetic attempts at wooing Steve wasn't the only thing he'd been doing with his cellphone earlier. ]
I hate to say it, but I owe you guys, [ Sam mutters to the both of them once Nat's behind the counter with them, and both just wave him off, looking amused. Nat demands details of their little date once it's over, but Riley just snorts and wishes him luck.
Considering how things had gone down earlier, he'll need it.
He finishes up in the back as quickly as he can and soon heads over to Steve's table, hoping he doesn't look as nervous as he feels. ]
So, uh. Sorry if that took longer than expected.
oh is that how it is? this little birdie's gotten bold!
But he does get nervous after a while. His leg bounces gently under the table, partly from the caffeine and partly from anxiety. He thinks about getting up for a refill after he finishes his latte, but they're so busy up there he doesn't want to add to it. And maybe Sam saw the note, and thought it was lame. Man, he really does have to work on his flirting skills.
He's just about talked himself out of anything happening when he sees Sam lean over the counter out of the corner of his eye, and feels a little rush of excitement. He's smiling. That can't be all bad, right? So he settles back into his seat, a little bolstered, and waits. ]
No! No, it's OK. [ He straightens up in his seat, smiles, smooths his palms down the knees of his slacks, gets up, rubs the back of his neck -- yeah, Sam doesn't have to worry about looking too nervous. Steve debates pulling out a chair for him, but he's not sure if that's the way things are done anymore. ] You looked pretty busy up there, and I wasn't sure you'd want to join me.
Uh, did you want to sit? Are you on break?
come and get him, steve /bats eyelashes at
Laughing, he shakes his head in agreement. ]
Yeah. I don't know about you, but I think there's some kind of conspiracy going on. [ He glances back over his shoulder at the counter where Natasha grins knowingly and wiggles her fingers at them in a wave. Turning back to Steve, his expression turns a little apologetic. ]
Sorry if Riley made you feel uncomfortable earlier. He can be a jerk sometimes, but he's actually my best bud, though Nat comes close, too.
[ He flounders a little for what else to say, flushing a little when he realizes he's still got his apron on. ] Uh. So. I think I remember something about a drink and a pastry being mentioned?
you're on, wilson :>
He smiles lopsidedly, glancing over at the counter. Natasha doesn't strike an imposing figure like Riley does, but he has this feeling about her. Like he'd better mind his P's and Q's.
He shakes his head at the apology, and laughs. ]
I'm not sure I'd call it a conspiracy. Don't worry, I used to have a friend like that. He's just looking out for you. [ He smiles wistfully, playing with the edge of his cup. ] N-not that he has any reason to worry.
[ He rubs the back of his neck, breathing another laugh. ]
Yeah, you remember right. And, uh, you said something about getting that drink at another place?