Secret Menu
AO3 | @steddieexchange gift fic for @mission2mordor! | rating: t | wc: 3.7k | cw: cursing | tags: modern AU; no upside down; pre-relationship; stobin own a coffee shop; max and steve are siblings; eddie is a flirt; steve is awkward at flirting; robin and max are menaces | masterlist
an: this is my steddie winter exchange gift fic for corbyn! i hope you enjoy :) there's a few more notes at the very end!
ch. 1 (you are here!) | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4
“If I have to make one more pumpkin spice abomination, I will scream.” Steve tosses the bottle of pumpkin sauce on the counter, grabs the shaker of pumpkin spice.
“They’re not that bad.”
“Yes, Robin, they are.” He points the shaker at them. “They’re mass-produced little sugar bombs that clutter people’s minds from what real coffee is.”
“Easy there, Mister Pretentious.” Robin grabs the shaker, sets it on the counter.
“Hey, I am not pretentious!” Steve objects, snatches the pumpkin spice back, shakes it on the latte. “I just have standards for what makes real coffee, unlike some people.”
“Please.” Robin snorts, deliberately snatching the shaker back and putting it back in its place. “You’re just all cranky and bitter because you’re–”
“Robin,” Steve covers their mouth with his hand. “I swear to all that is Blondie and Gaga if you finish that sentence I will quit right now.”
Robin’s voice comes out muffled against Steve’s palm.
“Bup!”
Robin squints their eyes.
Steve copies their movement. “Don’t you dare.”
Robin licks his hand. At the same moment, someone clears their throat at the counter. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Christ—“ Steve jumps, his hand falling back to his side.
Robin laughs, turns toward the customer. “Oh, nothing. Just Stevie here is all upset about the first day of fall.”
”Ah, not a fan of the turning of the seasons?” The stranger asks.
Steve groans, looks down as he wipes his hand on his apron. “It’s a dumb holiday that’s forcing me to make disgusting concoctions that barely qualify as coffee. It’s ruining my art!” He grimaces at his hand. “Robin, seriously, gross.”
The customer laughs. “Your art, huh?”
“Yes, my—” He locks eyes with the customer, voice dying in his throat. All he can focus on is the gorgeousness of the person in front of him.
All his brain can process is hot hot hot hot hot hot–
Robin rolls their eyes. “Stevie here is a self-proclaimed coffee artistė. Anything that gets in the way of that sends him over the edge. Especially–”
Steve snaps back to himself, points his finger. “Robin! I mean it. I will walk out that door right now.” He walks over to the sink, starts washing his hands.
Robin laughs, hands held up placatingly before them. “Fine, fine.”
The hot stranger places their hands on the counter and leans forward. “So, what do I have to do to try some of this elite coffee? Is there a secret artisté menu?”
“Oh, don’t get him started. Half the things he wants to make don’t get to the menu.”
“Because of you!” Steve dries off his hands, slides the finished latte to Robin. “You insist on this non-coffee bullshit.”
“So you're passionate about coffee, I see.” The hot stranger smiles.
Robin laughs. “That's putting it mildly.” They grab the latte and walk it to the end of the counter. “Pumpkin spice latte made extra special by our lovely dingus for Max.”
Max walks up and grabs the coffee, throwing a smirk at Steve. “Thanks, Rob. And thanks for the extra dash of bitterness, dingus.”
Steve groans. “Of course it was you. Why do you enable this slop? Have I taught you nothing?”
Max shrugs. “It’s fun. Plus, it tastes good.”
“It does not.”
“Are you saying you make bad coffee?” Max raises her brows, a smile twitching her lips.
“I could never make bad coffee and you know it.”
“Oh, do I?”
“Stop it.” Steve points at her. “You are not pulling me into this today.”
Max cocks her head. “Oh, but aren’t I?”
Steve shoos her away. “Go drink your sugar slop in peace, you gremlin.”
Max laughs, but retreats to her seat, tucked away in the corner of the shop. She’s sprawled on one of the big cozy armchairs, her laptop and books spread on the table in front of her. She slides her headphones back on and settles into her chair, latte and all.
“Soooo,” the hot stranger leans their hip into the counter, “do all customers get the ‘sugar slop gremlin’ treatment or does that cost extra?”
Robin walks by, throws her arm around Steve’s middle. “That costs being related to this dingus, by blood or by trauma.”
“And which one is she?”
Robin and Steve speak at the same time. “Both.”
The hot stranger laughs as they fold their arms across their chest. “Alright, fair enough.” They nod at Robin. “And you? Do you get the ‘gremlin’ treatment too?”
“Technically both.”
“We are not blood related.” Steve shakes his head. “Don’t listen to them.”
“We might as well be at this point.”
“Agreed!” Max yells from her corner.
“Fucking–” Steve glares at Max, raising his voice. “I asked you not to yell across the shop anymore.”
“There’s no one else here, loser.”
Steve gestures at the hot stranger. “Hello?”
“People you’re flirting with don’t count.”
“Max!”
Max sticks her tongue out, slides her headphones back on. Robin laughs.
Steve rubs his hands down his face and groans. “You’ll have to ignore her. She’s a–”
“Gremlin?” The hot stranger supplies with a smirk.
Steve laughs. “Yeah, to put it mildly.”
The hot stranger cocks their head, eyes glinting in the amber lighting of the shop as they study Steve. “So, is flirting the way to get the special artisté treatment? Because, if so, I’m all in.”
“Uh–” Steve’s eyes go wide.
“Okay!” Robin squeezes Steve as they slide around him and out into the lobby. “Looks like it’s time for my break.”
“Rob–”
“Back in 15, dingus!” They skip off to Max’s corner and slump into the armchair beside her, the two quickly falling into animated conversation.
“And they’re gone.” Steve sighs, glances nervously at the hot stranger. “Uh, please forgive, well,” Steve gestures at them in the corner, “both of them, really. They have zero decorum around new people.”
“They seem like perfectly lovely gremlins.” The hot stranger smiles. They right themselves, one hand propped on the counter, the other pointing at themselves. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”
“I’m, uh, I’m Steve.”
Eddie smirks. “I figured as much. Rob, is it?” Steve nods. “Yeah, Rob called you that, but, uh,” Eddie twirls a strand of hair around his finger, “I much preferred just referring to you as the ‘absolutely gorgeous barista’ in my head for the last five minutes.”
Steve chuckles, one hand sliding behind his neck, anxiously rubbing. “Yeah? That so?”
“That so.” Eddie leans forward slightly. “So, what’ll it get me off the secret menu?”
Steve blinks, cocks his head. “What?”
“The flirting. Artisté secret menu.” Eddie waves his hand. “Your holy grail of coffee.”
Steve looks down, smooths out his apron. “Right, yeah, of course.” He flips up a glass, hesitates briefly before he looks back up at Eddie. “Any allergies I should know?”
“None to speak of, thankfully.” Eddie smiles, fuck fuck beautiful radiant god help me fuck fuck—
Steve nods. “Good, yeah. Uh, bitter or sweet?”
“Hm,” Eddie pauses, taps his finger against his perfect, beautiful lips, fuck fuck fuck – “I like strong coffee, but,” he looks Steve up and down, “a bit of sweetness to mellow it out.”
Steve nods. “I can, uh –” he swallows thickly. “I can work with that.” Fucking hell, this guy is going to kill him.
Eddie smiles, the pure radiance of it knocking the breath clean out of Steve. Goddamn fuck fuck fuck — “Oh, I know you’ll take care of me real well, sweetheart.”
“Uh—“ Steve stops, dial tone ping-pogging through his brain. Might as well have a thought bubble leaking out of his brain with “Gay Panic” in big bold technicolor letters.
Eddie falters. “Sorry, too much?” He pulls his hair, twists a gorgeous beautiful soft chunk of hair across his lips. “I, uh, I kind of lose my own decorum around nerdy, beautiful men.”
Beautiful? Oh shit oh fuck oh—-wait, “Nerdy?”
”Yeah, uh,” Eddie points at Steve’s apron, “the pins. The dice, the books.”
Steve nods, soft smile taking his face. “Oh! Right, yeah, the dice is from these kids I—“
“We’re not kids!” Max yells, Robin laughing beside her.
“Sorry, gremlins.” Steve snarks, flips Max the finger.
“Oh, how I’m wounded.” Max deadpans, returns the gesture.
“You’ll live.” Steve turns back to Eddie, picks up the glass. “Anyway, these gremlins of mine. They gave me this pin ages ago, back when I helped oversee their DnD club in high school.”
Eddie grins. “You ran a DnD club?”
“Ran is a generous term. I just,” Steve gestures in front of him, “served as their sponsor of sorts to handle all the bureaucratic mumbo jumbo and help them keep their club going.”
“Ah. So, you were like their knight in golden-haired-armor?”
Steve blushes, swipes some dangling hairs behind his ear. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would.” Eddie cocks his head, his face going soft perfect lovely beautiful – “You’re a modern day Arthurian Knight. Except, like, well…better.”
Steve chuckles. “Well, I have no plans of going off to war or anything.”
“That’s good to know. Means I might get more time with you.”
Steve’s eyes go wide, his throat growing dry and scratchy. Eddie stares back, nothing but pure mirth cascading across the soft valleys of his face. Fuck fuck fuck god what the fuck. Eddie sucks his bottom lip, his tongue briefly peeking out.
Steve feels like he’s going to pass out. What the fuck PANIC PANIC PANIC PANIC –
“Yeah.” Steve nods. “Yep. Definitely. I mean, if you want. Yeah.”
Eddie chuckles, nods in response. “Yeah, I think I do want.”
Oh fuck–
“Anyway.” Steve clears his throat. “The gremlins, they kind of adopted me just as I adopted them. Now I can’t get rid of them.” He moves in front of the espresso machine, taps out the portafilter. “I let them play DnD here now that we’ve got this shop.”
”Do you play?”
”Oh, no.” Steve chuckles, shakes his head. “I’m not much for those kinds of games. I just give them the space they need to play.”
Eddie rocks on his heels, eyes soft and pretty gorgeous lovely—“That’s really cool of you.”
“Eh.” Steve shrugs, packs the portafilter, clicks it into place. He sets the shot glasses down, starts the machine. “Just what they deserve, really. I want them to have a safe space to get together and play and just, ya know, have fun together. Part of why we opened the shop, honestly.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. “Wait, you own this place?”
“Robin and I, yeah.” Steve smiles. “It’s our codependent lovechild.”
“Oh, sick!”
”Yeah, not to be too cliché, but it’s literally kind of my pride and joy.” Steve gestures at the wall behind Robin and Max, a variety of pride flags in various styles and states of progress.
“I can see why. The place has a really good vibe to it.”
”You think?”
Eddie nods. “Oh, yeah, for sure. That’s what got me to check it out. The outside drew me in and then how you’ve set up the space is really great.”
Steve blushes. “Uh, thanks. That, uh, means a lot, honestly.”
“You’re most welcome, sweetheart.”
Steve ducks his head, fidgets with the bottom of the espresso machine. Eddie glances around the shop, looking at the various pieces of art covering the walls and ceiling.
“I can tell you put a lot of work into this space.”
“Still a work in progress, but yeah. We practically do nothing but the shop these days.” Steve grabs the shots, hesitates above the glass. “Sorry, I didn’t ask — hot or iced?”
Eddie shrugs. “Your choice. I’m at your coffee expertise mercy.”
Steve laughs, shakes his head. “Well, if that’s the case—“ He sets the shots down, holds up two fingers. “—two seconds.”
Steve jogs to the back. He pauses in front of one of the cooler doors, the anxiety spiraling back into his brain full force. He shakes out his palms, bounces in place as he murmurs to himself, “Fuck, fuck, fuck— okay, fine, it’s alright. Cool. So good. Oh god. So hot. Fuck.”
His brain swirls with images of Eddie. Beautiful, gorgeous, kind, lovely Eddie.
Rugged, handsome, dangerously hot Eddie.
Plump, damp lips.
Soft, luscious hair.
Gentle, radiant smile.
Fuck.
Steve scrubs his hands through his hair, ruffles it out. “God, I’m so fucked.”
He takes a few steadying breaths, grabs his supplies. “It’s fine. Totally fine. Super fine. Just another customer. Nothing different. Totally completely fine.”
Steve walks back up front, chilled glass and syrup in hand. Eddie looks up, his expression going goddamn near radiant when they lock eyes. “Oh, what joyous occasion! My lovely barista artisté has finally returned from the proverbial war. I worried you’d be lost forever on the moors.”
Steve tries not to freak out over my my my—
“My apologies, sire. I meant it when I proclaimed I...shant be going off to war.” He sets his supplies down. “But alas, I had to gather resources for your loveliness.”
Eddie blushes, pulls his hair across his face. “You fought hard, then, my artisté?”
“Quite a treacherous war it was, sire. Had to fight a pretty gnarly door handle and some dire cherries to get these riches.”
“Aye, you’ve fought valiantly to acquire such luxurious riches.”
”Aye, indeed, sire. Indeed.”
Max coughs, “Dorks.”
Steve and Eddie both jump slightly at the noise. Steve grabs the shots, tips them into the frosty glass. “Ignoring that.” He grabs the syrup, drizzles it into the quickly chilling coffee. “Milk of choice?”
”Oat. Always oat.”
Steve nods, grabs the oat milk from the fridge. “A man of good taste, I see.” He tops off the glass, the milk bubbling softly as it mixes together. He grabs a spoon and stirs the drink until the glass is consumed by a caramelly brown color. He taps the glass twice, sets the spoon down.
“Here you go. A beautiful artisté brew for a beautiful guy.” Steve holds out the coffee.
”Beautiful, huh?” Eddie muses.
”To put it mildly.” Steve smiles.
Eddie ducks his head briefly, a dusty pink coating his cheeks. He reaches out, fingertips brushing Steve’s as he grabs the coffee.
Steve swallows a gasp at the touch. He swears Eddie’s fingers shivered, gripped tighter to Steve’s and the glass. They lock eyes, emotions swirling hard and fast between them. Electricity coursing through their bodies, looping to a soft conclusion in the chill connection of their touch.
“Uh, thanks.” Eddie clears his throat, cheeks bright red.
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Steve reluctantly lets go, gestures his chilled fingers at Eddie. “Enjoy.”
Eddie holds up the glass, pinky out, swirls the coffee around, wafts it toward his gorgeous perfect luscious soft face. “Ah, truly a fine brew here, young traveller.” He dramatically inhales the scent. “Is that hints of espresso I gather? Perhaps even,” he lifts the glass closer to his lips, “oat?”
Steve laughs. “Are you going to actually try the coffee or just perform in the middle of my shop?”
Eddie’s eyes twinkle as he responds. “Por qué no los dos, señor Esteban?”
“Esteban?”
“It means ‘Steven’ in Spanish, dingus.” Robin calls out.
Steve slowly blinks, takes a steadying, deep breath, murmurs to himself, “Fucking hell. Can’t have a private conversation ever.”
Eddie chuckles. “Well, if private conversation is what you’re after,” he leans down, elbows propped on the counter, chilled coffee in hand. He drops his voice low. “I’ve got some ideas on how we might do that.”
Fuck shit fuck oh god oh my god shit fuck fuck fu– “Yeah?” Steve mimics Eddie, his arms a hair’s breadth away as he leans across the counter. The warmth of Eddie’s skin taunting Steve’s resolve.
“Not to be the cheesiest line in the book, but,” Eddie pulls out his phone, gestures at Steve. “Can I get your number?”
Alert ALERT ALERT ALERT OH FUCK OH SHIT OH–
Steve nods, voice coming out in a broken sort of croak. “Yeah, yep, numbers. Can do that.”
Eddie opens his phone, pulls up a new contact, hands it over to Steve. Steve types in his number, fingers sparking across each digit. Just as he finishes, Eddie’s phone vibrates in his hand, a call labelled Gareth the Great coming through.
“Uh,” Steve holds the phone out. “You’ve got a–”
Eddie sighs, takes his phone back. He answers, “What do you want?”
Steve tries not to laugh at the exasperation crossing Eddie’s face. Eddie makes eye contact with him, exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, mouths out, “Work.”
Steve nods as he stands, makes to wipe down the espresso machine, trying not to look like he’s listening to every word of Eddie’s conversation.
“I told you I would be there by 10 and I will.”
Steve glances at his watch. 10:13 AM. He swallows a laugh, chances a glance back at Eddie, watches his eyes widen and his body straighten out.
“Oh, fuck. Yeah, ‘kay, I’ll be there in, like, 5 minutes, I swear.” Eddie hangs up, shoves his phone back in his pocket. He looks up at Steve, eyes apologetic, perfect pink luscious damp lips turned down. “I, uh, I gotta get to work. I’m so sorry to just run like this.”
Eddie rights himself, pulls out his wallet. Steve shakes his head. “Nah, don’t. You don’t owe anything.”
“But, you made me a coffee.” Eddie gestures at the still full glass. He hesitates. “A coffee I didn’t even get to drink, but, still, you made me one, so,” he pulls out an absolutely obscene stack of cash, “let me pay you for it.”
Steve chucks that wad of cash into the file of must process later. He looks at Eddie’s anxious, sad expression. How his brows are pinched, his lips bitten between his teeth – biting pink lips biting soft biting biting teeth biting fuck– Steve clears his throat. “No, it’s on the house.”
“I don’t wanna put y’all out like that.”
Steve smiles softly at the soft twang to Eddie’s voice the more rushed he seems to be.
“How ‘bout this.” Steve picks up the glass, places it firmly in Eddie’s hand. “You take this with you, try it, then…come back and let me know what you think.”
Eddie looks down at the coffee, back up at Steve. Their eyes lock again, a warring of emotions brewing in each. Eddie’s phone pings again and he sighs. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”
Eddie steps back, smiles at Steve. “Thanks for the coffee, sweetheart.” He waves at Max and Robin. “Thanks for being gremlins.”
With that, Eddie bounds through the door. Steve watches through the window as Eddie jogs down the sidewalk, further into the strip.
Steve stands there, brain slowly loading. His hands grip the edge of the counter. Brain consumed with Eddie Eddie Eddie–
“Sooooo, that went well.” Robin says.
“Super well.” Max chimes.
“I think our dingus is getting a boyfriend.” Robin sings.
“Did he–did I–uh, number?” Steve sputters, eyes drifting to Robin and Max.
“Indeed you did, buckaroo.” Robin finger guns at him.
Steve looks back at the door, then the counter, then back to Robin. “Did–”
“--you give away one of our glasses to Mysterious Hot Stranger?” Robin nods. “Also yes, yes you did.”
Steve groans, rubs his hands down his face. “Ugh, I’m a disaster.”
Max snorts. “No arguments there.”
Steve shushes Max, points his finger at her. “You.” He points at Robin next. “And you. Gremlins. Evil menaces.”
Robin laughs, head dangling upside down off the chair. “You’re fine, dingus.”
“You two got me all…kerfuffled.”
“Kerfuffled? Really?” Max raises her brows.
“Yes, kerfuffled.” Steve sighs, exasperation masking his anxiety. “It’s a word.” He gestures at her computer. “Look it up.”
“I know it’s a word, you loser. I was mocking your word choice.”
“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell.” Steve deadpans, hands coming to rest on his hips.
Max rolls her eyes. “Our kerfuffling didn’t mess anything up. Calm down.”
“Yes, yes it did! You got me all nervous and–”
Robin sighs, flips out of the chair. They stand, ruffling out their hair, before they turn to Steve. “You’re overthinking this.”
Steve falters. “No, I’m not.”
Robin walks back behind the counter. “Yes, you are.” They walk up to Steve, straighten out his apron. “We didn’t mess up your flirting. I’d say it went pretty dang well.”
Steve slumps forward, rests his forehead on Robin’s shoulder. He mumbles into their shirt. “I’m such a disaster. He was so hot. And now he’s gone forever.”
Robin pats him on the back. “He is not. He has your number.”
“And your coffee glass.” Max adds.
Robin nods. “Right, and the coffee glass. See, two points of contact. That’s, like, advanced gay flirting right there.”
Steve snorts. “Yeah, okay.” He stands, runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe I–”
Steve’s phone pings.
Then again.
And again.
He looks at Robin, eyes wide. “You don’t think?”
Robin bounces on their heels, waves their hands frantically in front of them. “Check it!!”
Steve pulls out his phone, his smile growing bigger at each message that pops up.
–Unknown Number
[10:20am]: oh my god
[10:20am]: this coffee is heavenly
[10:21am]: it’s unfair to every other coffee that has ever claimed to be coffee
[10:21am]: seriously are you a coffee wizard or something???
Robin looks over his shoulder, their grin matching his own. “Ooooooh, someone’s gonna get a boyfriend.”
Max runs up, leans over the counter. “Lemme see, lemme see!”
Steve pulls his phone to his chest, steps away from the both of them. “Do neither of you understand privacy?”
Robin rolls their eyes. “Since when have we ever had privacy against each other?”
Max nods. “Yeah, what they said.”
Steve’s phone pings again against his chest, his smile immediately growing at the sound.
Max and Robin share a look, similar smiles stretching across their faces.
Steve looks at Robin. “I’m going on break now.”
Max jumps up and down. “Yes!”
“Bup!” Steve points at her. “Not with you.”
Max stops jumping, groans out, “Oh, come on!”
He shoos her as he steps toward the back. “Go drink your sugar slop.”
Steve half-jogs to the back office, locks the door behind him. He takes a deep breath, his smile growing achingly large as he slides down the door until he hits the floor.
He slowly unlocks his phone, his heart beating erratically as he reads the new message.
“God, I’m so fucked.”
-Unknown number
[10:23am]: be my barista forever, sweetheart? pls 💜 😘
Chapter two here!
taglist (open): @sunshine-daydreams0809@saramelaniemoon@probablyin-bed @bookworm0690 @watermelonmite @sanctumdemunson @5-fievel
divider credit: @saradika-graphics
thank you for reading :)
an: i had so so much fun writing this! i didn't mean for it to take so long. i did, indeed, get hit by the ao3 curse a bit, but i powered through.
i loved writing this! i kept editing and thinking about different ways to incorporate some of the elements from corbyn's list that i could. i hope i did your hopes justice here :)
this will be like a series of vignettes, essentially. i have a few more bits and bobs i wanna post to add onto this, so keep an eye out for those!
btw go read their fics! they're seriously so freaking talented oh my god
mission2mordor ao3
@mission2mordor < tumblr
