The Latte Effect
Sirius Black is many things—effortlessly cool, devastatingly attractive, and, most importantly, completely in control of himself.
Or at least, that’s what he thought before him.
The problem with the mysterious, gorgeous man who sits in the corner of Bean There, Done That every morning is that he exists. That’s all. That’s the whole issue. He exists in his tall, scruffy, bookish, golden-eyed glory, and Sirius turns into an absolute wreck around him.
It doesn’t make sense. Sirius flirts like he breathes—it’s second nature, as easy as rolling out of bed with perfectly tousled hair. But something about this man scrambles his brain like a short-circuited radio.
Today is no exception. Sirius steps into the café, fully prepared to be suave and nonchalant, and immediately trips over absolutely nothing. His phone nearly flies out of his hand, his sunglasses slide down his nose, and he barely saves himself from colliding headfirst into the pastry display.
“Morning, Sirius.”
And there it is. The Voice. Warm, low, just the slightest bit amused. It shouldn’t be legal for someone to have a voice like that before Sirius has had caffeine.
He slowly turns, trying desperately to gather whatever remains of his dignity. Remus Lupin is exactly where he always is—by the window, a book open in front of him, a cappuccino in hand, and the kind of knowing smirk that makes Sirius want to either kiss him or throw himself into the sea.
“H-hey, Remus,” Sirius says, cursing himself internally. Hey? Really? He could do better than hey. He could do so much better. He clears his throat, attempting to lean against the counter, only to misjudge the distance and nearly topple over.
Remus tilts his head. “Everything all right there?”
“Me? Fine! Completely fine. Never been finer.”
Remus hums, taking a slow sip of his drink, his lips curling slightly over the rim of the cup. Sirius is staring. He knows he’s staring, but he can’t stop.
“You do know you have to actually order coffee before you get any, right?” Remus teases.
Right. Coffee. That’s why he’s here.
Sirius spins toward the barista, attempting to recover. “Uh, yeah. I’ll have—” And then he makes the fatal mistake of glancing back at Remus, whose eyebrow is raised in a way that should be classified as a crime. His mind completely blanks. “I’ll have—um—what he’s having.”
The barista doesn’t even bother to hide her smirk. “A decaf oat milk cappuccino?”
Sirius freezes. He blinks. “I—uh—no! I meant, uh, the one I usually get.”
She grins. “A triple-shot black espresso with extra foam?”
“Yeah! That. That one.” Sirius nods vigorously, refusing to meet Remus’s eyes.
Remus chuckles, low and amused, as he turns a page of his book. “Didn’t peg you for the decaf type.”
“Oh, shut up,” Sirius mutters, grabbing his drink the second it’s ready and practically fleeing to the table beside Remus’s, because he’s a masochist.
Remus watches him, still smirking, eyes glinting like he knows. Knows exactly how much he affects Sirius. Knows that Sirius is one comment away from combusting entirely.
And then, as if it’s nothing, Remus leans forward, resting his chin in his palm. “You do realize,” he says, “you don’t have to make a fool of yourself every morning just to talk to me, right?”
Sirius chokes on his espresso. Dies. Or, at the very least, wishes he could die.
Remus just grins. “You could just ask me out, you know.”
Sirius blinks. “I—wait, what?”
Remus closes his book, standing and stretching in a way that is completely unfair. He tugs on his coat, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and tosses a lingering glance at Sirius.
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” he says. “Same time. Think about it.”
And then he’s gone, leaving Sirius sitting there, gripping his coffee like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
He exhales sharply, then mutters under his breath, “What the fuck just happened?”
The barista snorts from behind the counter. “You got flirted with, mate. Congrats.”
Sirius groans and drops his head onto the table.
Tomorrow. He has until tomorrow to pull himself together.
Or, at the very least, to figure out how to ask Remus Lupin out without making a total fool of himself.
…He’s doomed.
