Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Hazelnut latte for Joan!”

Joan blinked. He certainly hadn’t ordered a hazelnut latte. He was sure he’d asked for the new spiced apple tea that had been written on the board outside, commemorating the coming of the autumnal season. 
Joan didn’t even like coffee. The caffeine tended to give him a headache, and the bitterness was something he just couldn’t get over, no matter how much sugar or flavoured syrup was added.

But, glancing briefly around the almost empty coffee shop he had stumbled into on his way into work, no one else was making a move towards the takeaway cup on the end of the counter, ‘Joan’ written cheerily on the side.
The barista looked a little hesitant, a slight furrow creasing his otherwise smooth, pretty face. A very distractingly pretty face. So pretty in fact, that Joan was starting to doubt himself.

He could well have been stunned so stupid in the vicinity of such a man, that he had accidentally blurted out the first menu item he saw, and ordered the latte. No other Joan was appearing to claim the drink, and the barista was so handsome , Joan couldn’t make a fuss about it now.

So he stepped up, taking the paper cup with what he hoped was a grateful expression; in spite of the early morning and now apparent lack of tea, and was almost blinded by the dazzling smile he got in return. The barista’s eyes were just so blue Joan forgot briefly how to speak.
A cheery and thickly accented ‘goodbye’ followed him out the door, as Joan tried to shake off whatever had just happened, and glared at the cup in his hands.
At least it was warm and nice to hold, even if he would now have to make his own tea from the temperamental kettle at the garage.

Joan arrived at the ‘Garaje de Hermanos’; the motorcycle garage he worked at, in a conflicted mood. 
On one hand, he genuinely was mad that the order was screwed up; he wanted a nice cup of tea. And now he’d have to dig in the back of the store room cupboards for dusty old tea bags, that were definitely chewed on by mice. 
On the other hand though… Jesus Christ. What bad day could begin with the witnessing of an angel? When Joan had walked into the coffee shop, one he hadn’t been past before, as he took a different route to work that day, he thought he might pass out. Tall, lean, and ridiculously gorgeous, with long slender limbs and soft looking, disney prince hair, a few strands falling artfully across his forehead; the barista leaning casually against the counter was undoubtedly the most handsome man Joan had ever seen in his life, and he would hazard a bet at the most handsome man in the world. 

How someone could even exist every day looking like that , let alone at 5:30 in the morning, while Joan knew that he still had grease smears on his arms from a late shift tinkering with an old Yamaha, and a bit too much scruff on his jaw where he had forgotten to shave three days in a row.

Maybe it was worth having to buy a coffee he wouldn’t drink. Joan would pass it on to the new apprentice anyway, that the brothers who ran the garage were training up to be a full time mechanic. He was a good kid; Fermín, with a great attitude for work and the passion for bikes that everyone at the garage did, but he did also consume a concerning amount of coffee.

Once he arrived at the garage, Joan thanked whatever good fortune usually avoided him, as he found some tea bags that didn’t smell too musty, and the kettle actually turned on on his first try. 
Fermín was already there, trying to find all the pieces to his socket set, that had inexplicably become scattered all over the room; as socket sets are wont to do. He accepted the coffee gratefully, giving up his fruitless search for the 10mm. They needed to order some new ones anyway.

The day went as smoothly as it could have done, with minimal drama or injuries, and no problem customers, but Joan could not keep his focus. 
As soon as he tried to get stuck into his work, his thoughts would start to drift again to piercing, ice blue eyes. The hours dragged on in his distraction, and it seemed like an age before Joan could pack up his toolbag, strip off his gloves, and head home for a much needed, long, hot shower.

Not thinking about that hot barista.

---------------------

Of course the next day he had to go back.

Joan wasn’t 100 percent sure that the barista wasn’t some early morning hallucination of an angel, and needed to see again if his memory was playing tricks on him.

To Joan’s devastation though, his memory had apparently not done justice to this man. When he walked into the coffee shop again, the cheery jingle of the welcome bell sounding out, the barista perked up, straightening from where he had been half slumped, leant over the counter. 

The building was empty, soft Italian music playing from a radio on one of the shelves, and he appeared to have been dozing off a little in the comfortable warmth. His hair was sticking up a little on one side, and one cheek was redder than the other, as if it had been pressed into his hand. His eyes were a bit pink and drowsy, but somehow even more intensely vivid blue than Joan had remembered. 
He looked breathtaking.

“Ciao! Good morning, hello again,” the barista smiled charmingly, somehow still appearing princely at this time in the morning. Joan wasn’t sure whether to kiss him, or punch him for the audacity.

“Morning,” Joan managed, working on putting enough words together to order his tea. “Could I please get -”

“No, wait, don’t tell me, I can remember.” The barista cut him off, “You were the hazelnut latte right!”

Joan opened his mouth to deny it, then paused. He just looked so earnest, so excited to have remembered Joan’s order. And he had remembered. So he had remembered Joan . 
This irresistibly stunning creature, who Joan hardly dared look in the face of, had remembered him from yesterday, and what he had (supposedly) ordered.

So of course Joan nodded, a little helplessly. “That’s right! Perfect! Thank you so much, ah -”

“Luca,” The barista smiled, a little indulgently. “I’ll get right on that for you.”

Joan watched Luca move gracefully around the little coffee machine, his long limbs elegant and coordinated in a way Joan could never quite manage. 
If he tried to think about two things at once, he usually ended up dropping a hammer, usually onto his own foot. 
And if only he wasn’t making another cup of damned coffee that Joan wouldn’t drink, the picture would be perfect, but yet, Joan stayed silent, eyes straying wistfully to the jars of tea on one of the cluttered shelves that lined the walls.

“A latte for Joan,” Luca beamed a smile, the force of which could probably power the whole town, and Joan blinked, a little dazed.

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” He grasped for the cup, pausing before he fitted the to-go lid on. There was an odd blob shape in the foam on top, undiscernible as anything in particular.

“I’ve been trying to learn latte art! Sorry it isn’t very good.” Luca looked a little beguiling, and Joan scrambled to reassure him, hating the waver in his glowing demeanour.

“It’s fantastic! It’s great! It’s… I’m sure it’s exactly what you meant it to look like! I - uh - what is it?”

Luca flushed a little pink, “A bird?”

“Oh!” Joan squinted back at the blob, which had absolutely zero features of any bird, “I can totally see that! Nice one!”

“Thank you!” Luca’s smile was back to full force, eyes sparkling, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Joan?”

“Ah - yes! Of course - uh - see you tomorrow, Luca.”

Joan left the coffee shop in something of a daze, head spinning, hands warm as he grasped the rippled cardboard of the cup. He just couldn’t stop thinking; he remembered my name .

---------------------

The next day Joan, obviously, had to go back again. He had passed the coffee onto Fermín, who was loving the free drink every morning, and spent yet another day of work in a bit of a daze.

When he walked into the coffee shop, Luca was instantly up and beaming at him.
“Joan! Ciao ciao, how are you?”

“Good morning! I’m pretty good, thanks, and you?” Joan did his best to act casual, like it was totally fine to be talking to the most effortlessly breathtakingly gorgeous man on the planet.

Luca was already starting up the coffee machine, so there was no chance that Joan could change the order today. Hazelnut latte again. Lucky Fermín. 

“I’m very good now,” Luca sent Joan another winning smile over his shoulder as he bustled around the equipment, and Joan felt himself start to blush a little. Was that flirting? That might have been flirting. 

“Do you have - ah - much planned for the day?” Joan instantly kicked himself mentally. The guy was at work , obviously he was working for the day.

Luca seemed happy enough to talk though. 
“Not much planned, no, I work the morning shifts here, as you know, haha, so this afternoon I’ll probably be studying mostly.”

“Studying?” Joan leaned against the counter curiously, and Luca seemed to buffer for a moment. If Joan knew better, he would say that Luca was staring at his forearms, where his sleeves had been rolled up. But surely not.

“Uh - ah - yes, I’m in university. I’m studying law? I didn’t really know what I wanted to do until recently, you know, so my brother has been a massive help letting me work here part time, and I’m getting my proper education.” 
Joan couldn’t help but notice that Luca waved his hands around a lot when he talked. Maybe it was just an Italian thing, but it was very distracting, and very cute.

“That’s so nice! Law huh, you must be smart then?” Joan tilted his head a little, looking up at Luca with soft eyes.

“Ah - well -” Luca definitely looked a little flustered now, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his long neck. “Umm - your coffee!”
He set down the cup, with another unidentifiable smudge of foam on the top.

Joan stared at it for a few seconds, squinting at the shape. Two bigger blobs, with a weird blob joining them. He tried turning the cup around to see if it looked better the other way up, and Luca dropped his face into his hands.

“It’s supposed to be a motorbike? You were wearing a shirt with a bike on yesterday, so I thought… It’s a bit silly, I know.”

“Oh! No, it’s good! I see it!” Joan lit up, smiling brightly at Luca. He had tried to draw a motorbike for him. Joan was ready to drop to one knee and propose right there. “I’m a mechanic, I work on bikes, I love them!”

Luca looked a little awed. “That’s so cool. I’d love a bike, but I haven’t ridden in years. My brother is the big bike guy, but I really like them. You have one?”

“Of course, a Honda Fireblade, she’s my baby.” Joan was always ready to talk about his beloved bike.

At that, Luca looked rather like he wanted to pass out, or jump Joan. “That’s - you - wow. Okay - um - so I need to see that please?”

Joan grinned, pulling his phone out to bring up some pictures of it, before catching sight of the time.

“Ah fuck, I need to get to work, sorry Luca. Next time! Some day I’ll take you for a ride on it.”

Luca made an odd squeaking noise, nodding mutely, as Joan grabbed the coffee he would never drink, and left the shop, the bell cheerfully chiming his departure.

When Joan reached the garage, Fermín was already waiting hopefully for his coffee. 
“Where are you even getting these? And should I ask why? I thought you didn’t like coffee anyway?”

Joan just sighed. “It’s kinda pathetic, you can’t laugh at me. But the barista messed up my order a few days ago and gave me coffee instead of tea. And he’s really hot so I didn’t want to correct him, so now I have to go in every day to see him and buy a coffee.”

Fermín blinked at him. “That is a bit pathetic, Joan. All you needed to say was that the first day you were getting the coffee for someone else, but now you wanted to buy a tea for yourself. That would have sorted it out straight away.”

“Well -” Joan groaned, “I obviously didn’t think of that, when I was trying to put a coherent sentence together while speaking to a literal prince. You’d understand if you saw him, kid.”

“Nah, I get it. When I met my Pedro I thought he was an idiot.”

Joan blinked, “That’s not - eh, doesn’t matter. I’ll just be getting coffee for a while, until I get my act together and either do something about it, or get scared and stop going back. So free coffee for you!”

“Thanks Joan!” Fermín chirped happily, raising the cup in a mock toast, before bouncing back to work on the latest project that had been dropped off, a Kawasaki with a loose brake pad.

---------------------

And so the pattern continued. 
Every morning Joan would go to the coffee shop and buy a hazelnut latte that he wouldn’t drink. 

He would make a little more conversation with Luca each time, learning more about the Italian. He learnt about his older brother who owned the coffee shop, but travelled around a lot, so left it mostly in the hands of his team of young Italian protégés. Luca told him about the other men who worked in the cafe, all of them apparently a bit crazy, with a lot of curly hair and ridiculous stories. He listened as Luca opened up about his passion for writing and photography, especially of motorcycles and motorsport.

In turn, Joan spoke about his childhood growing up in Mallorca, and his passion for skateboarding and motorcycles, driving him to get his education in engineering and finally to move away and start working at the garage run by the Márquez brothers, old friends of his from university. 
It was still difficult to get past the fact that just looking at Luca’s face took Joan’s breath away, but he was surprisingly easy to talk to, conversation flowing easily over the next week or two, and their morning meetings became the highlights of his day.

The latte art was also improving a bit, as Joan was able to actually guess what some of the squiggles were meant to be. The day he was given his coffee with an uncharacteristically neat heart drawn on the top, he could barely stutter through a goodbye, and spent the entire day at work in a giddy daze.

Their conversations were edging closer and closer to flirting territory, but Joan still didn’t dare push too much. Luca was Luca .

---------------------

After 3 weeks of Joan being dreamy and wistful at work, and yet still with no actual movement towards a relationship with Luca, the brothers needed to step in.

Marc pushed the door of the coffee shop open, the cheery jingle of the bell sounding out over the quiet radio playing an Italian song Marc didn’t recognise.

He walked up to the counter, Álex at his shoulder peering at the boards of drink options.

“Hello - uh - is Luca in today?” Marc asked the man leaning on the counter, a wild mess of curly hair and mischievously sparkling eyes watching him, head tilted a little. His nametag read ‘Bez’.

“Nope, he works the morning shift, so just me I’m afraid. How can I help you?”

“Ah, well, our friend Joan, he’s told us about this place, so we wanted to pop in and meet this ‘Luca’ he’s always talking about.”

The man’s whole face lit up, smile breaking to show a cute gap between his front teeth.”
“Joan? LIke Luca’s Joan? He comes in every morning?”

“I guess so?”

“CELIN!” He yelled in the direction of the backroom, “Get out here! You’re going to want to hear this. It’s Joan’s friends.”

The door slammed open and another curly haired man appeared, swinging himself over the counter to sprawl dramatically on top of it. He had an equally mischievous smile, and beamed at the brothers.
“Joan’s friends! Welcome! What are your intentions with our dear, sweet Luca?”

“Oh, well…” Marc trailed off, so Álex picked up for him.
“Joan has been going on about this gorgeous barista here, and we figured we’d come in to see what this guy is actually about. See if he’s enough for our Joan to be so pathetically whipped for.”

“Oh Luca’s a good guy, don’t you worry about that, but we want to hear about Joan! Luca is so secretive when it comes to this stuff, he’s only said that there’s a hot guy who comes in every morning for the same coffee.” 
Bez nodded solemnly.

“Well, he’s still faking liking coffee, so there’s that for you.” Marc snorted.

“What?” Celin frowned, “Faking… coffee?”

“Joan hates coffee,” Álex laughed brightly, “But apparently Luca is so pretty he can’t bring himself to admit that he messed his order up on the first day, so now has to get a coffee that he won’t drink, every day , just so he has an excuse to come in and talk to him.”

Bez and Celin were both stunned into momentary silence, before turning absolutely ecstatic. 

“That is the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life holy shit,” Bez gasped, “He’s not even drinking it?”

“Nah, gives it to our apprentice, who really shouldn’t be drinking so much coffee, but, you know.” Marc shrugged.

“I can’t believe this. That is so ridiculously pathetic, I love this guy already.” Celin was back up on his feet and bouncing on his heels in excitement. “I thought Luca was bad, but this is wonderful. They’re made for each other.”

“Sounds like it,” Álex grinned, “So Luca talks about him? Seems to like him too?”

“Oh Luca is whipped. It’s so embarrassing, I’ve caught him spending hours trying to make little latte art hearts, and they all just look like blobs.”

“Joan told us about the hearts! He was blushing the entire day!”

Suddenly the jingle of the bell sounded out again.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
A voice cut through their conversation, and Marc and Álex whipped around to see Joan standing in the entrance, arms folded.

“Joan! Heyyyy,” Marc leaned back against the counter in a facade of casualness. 

“We just thought we’d stop in and get a coffee on our lunch break! You always say how nice this place is, we just wanted to see.” Álex nodded earnestly.

“This is Joan?” Celin bounced over, not a modicum of subtlety in him, immediately sizing Joan up, staring blatantly.

“Oh my god it’s Joan!” Bez looked about ready to vault over the counter to get a better look.
“We have heard so much about you!”

Joan in turn looked like he was ready to murder the brothers in cold blood, job be damned.
“And what, exactly, have you told them?”

“No, no,” Celin shook his head, “We’ve heard so much about you from Luca! He loves to talk about his favourite morning customer!”

Joan blinked, cheeks immediately flushing pink, before grabbing Álex’s arm. 
“Right - well - we need to go. A guy has brought in an old Honda you need to take a look at.”

“No, no, stay! We want to get to know you!” Celin actually pulled out a chair with a bright smile, that was meant to be inviting, but just looked a little crazy.

“Ah! No, that’s okay, I’m sure they need me at the workshop, there’s lots to do…” Joan blustered, backing up a little, but Álex shoved him forward.

“Nope! We’ve got it under control! In fact, you can take the whole afternoon off, get to know these lovely guys! It’ll be nice!” 

“And get a coffee, I’ll pay,” Marc grinned devilishly, sharp teeth flashing. 

Bez cackled delightedly, “I’ll make a tea, shall I?”

Joan sighed defeatedly, dropping into the chair. 
“I hate all of you. I better be getting paid overtime for this. And a tea would be lovely, please. It is nice to meet you both in person, Luca has told me a bit about you.”

Marc and Álex subtly fist bumped as they left; a successful mission.

It actually turned out to be a nice afternoon, with many good cups of tea. 
Bez and Celin were great to talk to, full of enough energy to keep conversation flowing, and to Joan’s relief, shared the passion for motorbikes. 
Of course, they did have actual work to do, but let Joan sit at the counter, feet swinging casually from the stool, as Bez made people’s drinks, and Celin popped in and out of the kitchen. 

Being in the cafe without Luca felt strange. Such a familiar place, that Joan had spent so much time in, but without the familiar face that still took his breath away every time their eyes met. 

Joan wasn’t stupid; he knew he had fallen for Luca hard . But actually doing something about it was a whole bigger issue that he was too afraid to face. 
Because Luca was incredible. Obviously drop dead gorgeous, but also sweet, and smart, and funny, and everything anyone could possibly want in a person. Luca could have anyone he wanted, with the snap of his fingers, so what hope did Joan really have with him?

Joan, who worked too much, and looked a bit scruffy ,and always smelt kind of like diesel, and could never get the motor oil completely out from under his fingernails.
He was a bike rat, with a slightly too awkward face, and in his opinion, had no place standing next to such a perfect, living angel on earth.

---------------------

Luca obviously had other ideas.

When Joan came into the shop the next day, Luca strode briskly around the counter, and before Joan could even open his mouth to greet him, Luca grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him full on the lips.

Joan froze, body motionless in shock, not entirely sure that he was alive. Surely this was just a dream that his mind had made up, and he would awake soon to the obnoxious sound of his alarm.

And yet, Luca’s hands were solid against his face, and his lips were so soft. Joan could taste peppermint, and just a hint of the honey chapstick he had seen Luca keep in his pocket. It felt so tender, and so real . 
And then, way too quickly, Luca was drawing back, a sudden concern marring his pretty face.

“Ah, shit, sorry, I didn’t -”

Joan didn’t let him finish, stretching up on his tiptoes and grabbing onto the broad shoulders that had haunted his every thought, kissing Luca again, firmly.
When he drew back, they were both looking a little dazed, and very red.

“What was that for?” Joan asked, voice wavering slightly as he blinked up at Luca, hands still grasping his upper arms.

“I spoke to Bez and Celin yesterday. Um… they seemed to think that you didn’t know I liked you?”

“You like me?!” Joan gaped, eyes wide.

“Yes? Is that not what we’ve been doing every day? I flirt with you! I learned how to draw hearts on your coffee!” Luca actually looked a little hurt, and Joan scrambled to tenderly hold his beautiful, beautiful face.

“I just thought that was you being nice! I’ve liked you for so long, but I couldn’t imagine you actually wanted me back.” Voice dropped low, Joan pulled Luca into a tight hug, face pressed into his neck.

Luca laughed gently, long arms wrapping tightly around Joan, settling in the small of his back. “Obviously I like you, are you kidding? You’re so smart and driven, and you’re stupidly hot and rugged, and you have a sexy motorbike . And whenever you come in with engine grease still smeared on you it makes me want to jump over the counter and -” He broke off mid-sentence with a cough. “Uh - yeah. You drive me a bit insane.”

Joan pulled back a little, just so he could press their lips together again, arms draped around Luca’s neck. 
Just before it could deepen too much; both men too absorbed by the feeling to remember where they even were, the entrance bell rang out, splitting the atmosphere, and they jumped apart.

An older man stood in the entrance, blinking at them.

“Sorry to interrupt boys, but I would rather like a coffee,” He said genuinely apologetically, a heavy French accent thickening his words.

“Right! Yes, uh, sure!” Luca hastened to get back behind the counter, straightening his apron, “What can I get for you?”

Once Luca was busying himself making the espresso, the man turned to Joan with an amused smirk. He nodded subtly at Luca, then gave Joan an exaggerated wink, making him blush horribly. 

Luca hurriedly passed over the coffee and croissant with his best attempt at a charming smile, while his face was bright pink, and his hair still rather rumpled from Joan’s hands.

“Enjoy your morning,” the man grinned at the pair, accent softening the ‘r’s and dragging the vowels into attractive shapes on his tongue, raising the drink in a mock toast as he left.

Joan and Luca just looked at each other for a few long seconds.
“I’ll - uh - make your coffee. Don’t want to make you late for work.” Luca said, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly. 

“No! It’s okay, I’m already definitely late. So - ah - take as much time as you need.” Joan leant against the counter with his arms folded. 
If he flexed his forearms muscles a little just to make Luca drop his spoon and flush scarlet, well, you couldn’t blame him. 

When Joan arrived at work, 20 minutes late and with a huge grin on his face, Marc and Álex high-fived in triumph. Fermín accepted the coffee with a little surprise though.
“You’re still getting coffee? Did you not tell him?”

“Ah - no, not yet. I don’t mind getting coffee! And it’s gone on too long now, I can’t tell him, I’ll look like a weirdo.” Joan gestured vaguely. 

“He will have to find out eventually though, you know that?” Álex pointed out, and Joan sighed, face dropping into his hands.

---------------------

Luca did find out, of course, only a few days later.

Joan had invited him over for a home cooked dinner, one thing led to another… and well, Luca ended up staying the night.

Joan slowly cracked his eyes open, wrapped in such a comfortable warmth he never wanted to move again. Slowly he turned around in Luca’s grasp so he could press his face into Luca’s neck, fluttering kisses over the bruises he had left there. 

Luca mumbled incoherently in his half-awake state, and Joan smiled against his warm skin, wrapping his arms around him tighter. Joan still had a satisfying ache in his body, and could feel the sting of bite marks on his shoulders. He had never felt so at peace.

Eventually Luca sat up with a soft groan, stretching his arms above his head, and giving Joan a great view of his biceps, which he rather wanted to get his teeth back into.

“You stay there, baby, I just want to make a drink,” Luca murmured, voice still rough with sleep, and Joan nearly swooned.
Luca was so gorgeous like this, freshly awoken, eyes a little blurry, even still like piercing chips of ice. His skin was smooth and golden, now scattered with pretty marks that Joan couldn’t help but feel proud of, Luca’s long, decorated limbs going on forever.

So distracted by the memory of the body like an adonis, it was only when Luca was clattering around in Joan’s kitchen, that Joan suddenly realised -

“Hey Joan? Where’s your coffee machine?”

"Uhhh..."