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Grantaire hums to himself as he doodles little hearts and cherubs along the border of his chalkboard. After a moment of consideration, he adds a few kittens and makes them bat at the hearts just because he can and because it’s the beginning of February, which means the atmosphere should be all cute and fluffy. Besides, this boba shop is his child, so he is allowed to do whatever he wants to decorate. It doesn’t open until noon, and he always works on his chalkboard menu while the boba cooks and the tea steeps.
Ding.
“Hello, R!” Cosette greets cheerily as she puts her stuff in the back and dons an apron. The aprons are ridiculously cute too, if Grantaire does say so himself, featuring a fluffy white cat sipping boba. The cat is modeled after none other than his own Marshmallow.
“Hi, Cosette. How are you?” Grantaire, balanced precariously on his ladder, which he needs because he was not blessed with height, dusts his hands off and climbs down.
“Eh, not bad, not bad.” She shrugs and gestures to the chalkboard. “Nice kittens. You?”
“I'm okay. I can’t wait to introduce the Valentine’s Day stuff to the menu.”
“R, darling, I hate to break it to you, but our Valentine’s Day stuff is just the boba we have year round.”
Grantaire shushes Cosette. “Don’t ruin my fun. We can make, like, heart-shaped tapioca pearls and sell exclusively strawberry and rose drinks.”
“How about cutting fruits into heart shapes instead of selling just two flavors?” Cosette asks. “I feel like that would be so much better for business.”
“You are a genius, ‘Sette. I knew I hired you for a reason.”
Cosette pats his head and disappears to check on the boba. Grantaire, satisfied by the way the board looks, washes his hands to begin chopping up fruit. At noon sharp, online orders start drifting in. They get plenty of customers in the store, partly because they enjoy taking pictures of the chalkboard, for some reason. Something about how they think it’s perfect for Instagram. Grantaire only knows that because he’s seen his shop geotagged in multiple posts.
At least Instagram increases their popularity, especially in such a tourist-y city, and, in turn, the influx of customers. Grantaire was a bit overwhelmed when it first happened, and he had to hide in the back to avoid interacting with so many people. His social skills are fine, but Cosette’s are much better, and he enjoys making each drink more than taking orders anyway.
The small bell that Cosette installed above the door rings again, and Grantaire glances up, brightening immediately when he notices his friends walk in. And then he frowns, putting his hands on his hips mockingly. “Joly, my dear friend, this is the third time you’re here this week. You can’t tell me you advocate for health when you’re drinking boba this often.”
“Boba is good for my mental health,” Joly retorts, grinning. He slides over a five euro note along with his reusable cup. “That being said, mango matcha with no ice and thirty percent sugar. Keep the change.”
Grantaire starts making his friend’s drink, instinctively measuring everything out. Joly is the type of person to get hooked on one flavor and become too attached to it to try anything else. Those customers are the best, in Grantaire’s opinion. He dislikes those who come in and order something crazy and new each time and eventually become disappointed because it wasn’t what they expected. Like, seriously, what is he supposed to do when the jasmine tea tastes too bitter, and the customer only wanted half of the sugar?
That being said, there are also complete sweethearts like Jehan who is currently trying to work their way down the menu, and Grantaire finds it so baffling when they seem to genuinely like each concoction they come up with. He will never forget the time Jehan ordered a plain milk tea with every topping known to humankind. Ice cream and cheese foam is something he would never put in the same drink for himself, but Jehan seems to be fairly lactose tolerant.
As Grantaire goes back to cutting up strawberries, he hears the bell chime again, so he washes his hands and steps back up to the register. He fixes his gaze on the register as he taps it a couple times to prepare it for another order. “Hello, welcome, what can I get for you?”
“Uh, a black coffee.”
Grantaire’s hands still as he takes a moment to process the request. He also has to take a moment to process the stranger’s extremely nice voice, and when he glances up, he has to take a moment to process the stranger’s handsome features. Blinking, Grantaire reminds himself that this isn’t a dream, even if the literal man—there’s a button on his laptop bag with his pronouns—of his dreams is right here in front of him, trying to order a black coffee. How is he supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions?
“Sorry?”
“A coffee. Black, if you don’t mind.”
Grantaire stammers, “I-I’m sorry, we don’t sell coffee here? There’s a café next-”
“Oh, my bad. A…” The stranger trails off, finally looking away from Grantaire to peer at the menu. “A hot black tea will do.”
Is this guy really that insistent on ordering something here? It’s admittedly not the strangest thing Grantaire has encountered, but the staring is really quite intimidating, especially when it comes from someone as attractive as this stranger. Oh, where’s Cosette when he needs her?
“Um, okay. How much sugar, and would you like to purchase a reusable cup? They're cat-shaped.”
“No sugar and yes, cup.”
Grantaire waits patiently as the man fumbles with his card for a moment, which shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. He feels a smile worm its way onto his face as he hurriedly drinks in—pun unintended—fluffy blond hair and blue eyes. Their fingers brush when the stranger hands his card over, and Grantaire swears he feels tingles run up his arm. He wants to blame it on the chilly weather or his excitement about the holiday season.
He wordlessly starts making the admittedly simple drink, something he never really expected to be doing, as Enjolras, according to his credit card, sits at a table in the corner and takes a book out of his bag.
In almost no time at all, Grantaire places the finished drink on the counter and calls out, “Monsieur Enjolras.”
Enjolras leaps up and gets to the counter in just three long strides. He has a small smile on his face as he takes his drink, and Grantaire thinks he might just pass out.
“Thank you. Just Enjolras is fine, by the way.”
“Okay, Just Enjolras,” Grantaire replies shyly. He waves utterly dorkily and curses himself. “I’m Grantaire.”
“Hello, Grantaire,” Enjolras says, smiling softly. God, just take Grantaire’s heart, why won’t he? “It says that on your nametag.”
Grantaire clears his throat and murmurs, “Enjoy.”
To his surprise, Enjolras takes a sip right in front of him and proclaims it to be perfect. Legitimately, what the fuck? Is he even human?
For the next hour or so, he sits in Grantaire’s boba shop, reading a book as he drinks his tea. Grantaire remains bewildered at how someone can so casually walk into a boba shop and order coffee. Oh well. It’s really not his business to worry about others, and Enjolras is as hot as the tea he’s sipping.
Besides, it’s not likely that Enjolras will come back, not when it seemed like he didn’t mean to come here in the first place.
Grantaire finds out that he is wrong, on all accounts.
This time, he’s balancing precariously on his trusty ladder and doodling kittens with angel wings when the bell tinkles merrily. Usually, he would have all of this done before opening, but he allowed himself to sleep in a little too late. Preparing the tea also takes priority over decorating the chalkboard, so that’s the first thing he did when he arrived.
Once the shop hit a lull in customers, he left Cosette at the counter to hold down the fort while he fucked off to doodle kittens.
“Oh my God, please don’t fall.”
“Well, now you just jinxed it!” Grantaire exclaims, safely climbing down from his ladder. He gives his best customer service smile, though it’s quite a bit genuine as well, to Enjolras, who looks terrified for his life right up to the moment that Grantaire sets foot on the ground. “What can I get for you?”
“Uh…” Enjolras stares at the chalkboard menu for a long time, and Grantaire takes the opportunity to very patiently stare at him. “I don’t know. What do you recommend?”
Grantaire squints as he wipes his chalky hands on his apron, leaving streaks of white behind. “Hmm, you don’t seem like a person who likes incredibly sweet things, so I think you’d prefer something fruity. Dragonfruit, perhaps, with no more than fifty percent sugar.”
“Are you calling me fruity?” Enjolras asks, quirking an eyebrow, and Grantaire promptly chokes on his spit. “Because you wouldn’t be wrong.”
Spluttering, Grantaire collapses onto his ladder. “That’s not what I meant, but good for you. I would also be fruity, but I prefer the milk teas. When I drink fruit tea, I get popping boba, but when I drink milk tea, I get regular tapioca pearls. Either way, I end up with balls in my mouth- oh God.”
Just kill him now. He curses his inability to keep his mouth shut. In fact, the only way he’s able to shut up is when he’s drinking boba… and when his mouth is full of… balls.
Enjolras laughs at him, and it’s a good thing that there aren’t any other customers around to witness Grantaire’s face go as bright red as a tomato at the sound within seconds. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like he’s about to die of embarrassment anytime soon. Unfortunately, Cosette is grinning evilly at him from the counter. He just knows that he’ll be teased about this budding crush for ages.
“Then I’ll have what you recommended,” Enjolras responds, handing him a five euro note. He actually looks excited, not unlike an overenthusiastic golden retriever puppy. It’s actually really fucking adorable.
“Would you like any toppings?” Grantaire asks. When he takes the bill, it’s hard to avoid brushing fingertips with Enjolras.
“Popping boba, I guess. I don’t want to appear any more sacrilegious in your eyes, since I came here and ordered black coffee last week.” Enjolras scratches the back of his head and smiles sheepishly. “I saw the cute sign and just had to come in.”
“Oh! Do you like cats?”
“I think they’re vicious little monsters that you just have to try and pet. Y’know, because they’re soft and fluffy.”
Laughing quietly, Grantaire almost forgets that he’s supposed to be working, but he doesn’t, so he hurries back to the counter and washes his hands. Enjolras trails after him, hovering by the pick-up counter and craning his neck to watch him make his drink. Grantaire blushes at the attention and elbows Cosette when she winks at him, hoping she’s not being too obvious.
“I have a cat,” Grantaire says, handing Enjolras his cup. “Her name is Marshmallow, and she basically inspired this whole shop.” He points to the Polaroids decorating the wall opposite. Marshmallow is in about half of them, and his loyal customers are in the other half.
“She looks very cute.” Enjolras takes a sip of his drink and makes a face of consideration. “It’s tasty, I think. Thanks!”
Grantaire will pass out if Enjolras keeps smiling at him like that, so he mumbles a quick reply and hurries to the register to get the next person’s order, face flaming. In his hurry to escape, he doesn’t notice Enjolras still grinning stupidly after him.
“R, you are down bad,” Cosette whispers, brushing past him to restock cups. At least Enjolras is out of earshot and reading yet another book. “And for a man, no less.”
Grantaire whimpers and starts mixing the ingredients for matcha milk tea. “I know, I know. You can be ashamed of me.”
“Mhm.”
“Whatever. It’s just me simping for a customer. Nothing is going to come out of it.” His protests are weak, like he’s trying to convince himself and utterly failing at it.
Cosette glances around him, presumably at Enjolras. “I wouldn’t exactly rule that out. Anyway, it’s going to be busy soon, so prepare yourself and quit whining. And stop pouting at me. I’m immune to kitten eyes, remember?”
Grantaire huffs and busies himself with making sure the vats are full of boba. Cosette needs to stop absorbing all of her girlfriend’s influence. Éponine is turning her spicy, yet Grantaire still loves them both, no matter how much they tease him.
Enjolras remains at his little table by the window for the rest of the afternoon.
“Marshmallow, my love, I’ve only known him for two weeks. Is it too early to be developing feelings?”
“Mrow.”
The funny thing is, Grantaire notices that Enjolras keeps coming back, even if it’s ridiculously obvious that boba is definitely not his preferred choice of drink. Maybe he likes the ambiance? Or the cat-themed decor?
Grantaire might seem like an oblivious and bumbling idiot half the time, but he does keep tabs on which customers keep returning time and again. He likes knowing what drinks they prefer. For some reason, Enjolras is one of them, and he orders one of two drinks each time: dragonfruit tea with popping boba or black tea with tapioca pearls, both without any sugar. It leaves Grantaire baffled to no end, but he does find it admittedly hilarious when Enjolras grimaces like chewing boba inflicts pain but still slaps on a smile. His dedication is admirable.
But there’s no reason for Enjolras to be dedicated to ordering and consuming something at Grantaire’s shop. Not when there’s a coffee shop across the street.
Grantaire decides to ask him about it.
“Are you having dragonfruit or black tea this time?”
“Uh, black tea,” Enjolras replies. “And-”
“No sugar with boba,” Grantaire interrupts. “I don’t really think you enjoy the tapioca though, so I don’t know why you keep ordering your tea with it. I promise I won’t judge you for not adding boba.”
Enjolras looks like a deer caught in headlights. He coughs. “Wow, you’re observant. And, uh, you’re also right. The texture is a bit strange to me.”
“Understandable. No sugar and no boba then?”
“Please.”
“Okie dokie.” Grantaire types the order in on his iPad register and lifts his head to meet Enjolras’s eyes. He sighs. “Stop looking so guilty. I already said I wouldn’t judge.”
Enjolras stares at him for a bit, which is quite unsettling. Even after knowing him for a while, Grantaire still has no idea what to do when that blue gaze is fixed on him. Actually, he does, and it’s to start blushing like crazy. To avoid making a fool of himself any further, he clears his throat, plasters a smile on his face, and takes the next customer’s order.
Shortly, he and Cosette swap places, so he can spend some time making drinks. The mundane tasks of punching out little hearts from fruits and scooping out pudding and grass jelly allows his mind to wander. There’s no way that Enjolras is coming back here almost every other day now just for Grantaire. He does always make it a point to strike up some sort of conversation though.
Maybe there is hope that he likes Grantaire.
“I’ll have a brown sugar boba with all of the sugar. And cheese foam.”
Grantaire starts making the drink while silently worrying about the diabetes that the new customer is bound to have. It’s not his place to care, but that is a lot of sugar.
“Courfeyrac?”
“Enjolras?!”
Interest piqued, Grantaire glances up after putting together this Courfeyrac person’s drink to see what’s going on. He peers around Cosette out of sheer curiosity and discovers that Courfeyrac is the short guy with a giant grin steadily making his way to Enjolras’s table, boba in hand. Basically, he’s exactly the type of person to be drinking brown sugar boba with all the sugar. Props to him.
Not even Grantaire, who has a certified sweet tooth, would drink that.
He overhears snippets of their conversation here and there, not really meaning to eavesdrop. It’s just that Courfeyrac talks so loudly and so enthusiastically—that might be a side effect of all that sugar—while waving his hands around. Grantaire couldn’t ignore him even if he wanted to.
“-so you’re telling me that you’ve been coming here after meetings? You always used going home to catch up on work as an excuse!”
“In my defense,” Enjolras begins weakly, “I was coming here to catch up on my work.”
It’s true. Grantaire watches him furiously type away on his laptop sometimes… not on purpose! He just admires all the stickers on the laptop! Yeah, that’s definitely it. He’s not being a creep.
“Okay, Enjolras, I love you, but you’re also telling me that you discovered this quaint and aesthetic little boba shop and never told me about it for weeks? I feel betrayed,” Courfeyrac hisses. He sucks on his straw and chews for a moment. “And it’s good boba.”
“Yeah, the drinks are rather good, aren’t they?”
Grantaire is blushing at the praise. He’s blushing, and it’s all Enjolras’s fault. Maybe this crush has become more of an infatuation recently.
“You’re trying to distract me or change the topic or perhaps even both at the same time.” Courfeyrac waves his hands. “Last I checked, you’re a serial coffee drinker. You hate tea!”
Ouch. But also…?
Enjolras winces too. “I’ve changed my mind. The tea that Grantaire makes is good. The little fruits are even heart-shaped.”
Courfeyrac’s eyes go comically wide as a scary grin stretches across his cheeks, which is enough to instill fear in small children. There are small children in the shop right now. Grantaire thinks he has missed a chapter of their discussion, unless they’re communicating telepathically.
“No. Shut up, Courfeyrac.”
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“Your face was already doing all the talking,” Enjolras retorts. He stands up. “My break is almost up anyway. See you later?”
“You got it.” Courfeyrac salutes him before swiveling to stare at the back of Grantaire’s head. Quite frankly, it’s very disconcerting. And he doesn’t stop doing that until he leaves.
Suffice to say, Grantaire is extremely baffled by everything that occurred during the past hour or so, and he can’t stop thinking about what Courfeyrac meant. It’s all very confusing.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Cosette chirps as she marches into the shop with a handful of heart-shaped balloons. She sets them down by the counter and puts her hands on her hips. “Are you doing anything with a special someone later?”
Grantaire shakes his head. “You know me. A hopeless romantic—emphasis on hopeless —so my plans for tonight involve gorging myself on sweets while watching a sappy movie. My dentist will hate me.”
“Your dentist already hates you. And me. We work at a boba shop.”
“Touché.”
Cosette frowns and says, “Wait, but you aren’t hopeless. Plenty of people think you’re cute and handsome and such.”
“Psh, that doesn’t matter to me.” Grantaire refuses to blush at the compliments as he waves them off. “Now, let’s get to work before happy hour catches us off guard and bowls us over.”
“God yeah.”
They get a lot of customers in the next few hours, and Grantaire is so grateful when he finally gets to flop dramatically onto one of the couches to dazedly stare at a paper cherub dangling from the ceiling. They really go all out decorating for holidays, and he loves it.
“Hey, R.”
Grantaire lifts his head at the sound of Enjolras’s voice. He waves lazily. “‘Sup.”
Enjolras looks a bit out of place, dressed like he just came from a funeral amidst the pastel decorations, but he’s still devastatingly attractive, especially when he gives Grantaire a small smile. “Busy day?”
“Mhm. Valentine’s Day equals couples discounts equals boba dates equals more business.” Grantaire glances around and gets back up. “Are you here with someone?”
It hurts him to ask, but he’s also genuinely curious. Enjolras just stares at him in bewilderment and replies, “Uh, no. I didn’t even realize it was Valentine’s Day.”
Well, that comes as a relief.
“Literally how?”
Enjolras gestures helplessly. “Your shop has been decorated like this all month! It’s cute, I’m not going to lie, but I also don’t… check the calendar?”
“You’re so weird, Enjolras,” Grantaire tells him. “That’s not an insult, by the way. What’ll you have today?”
“Nothing right now. I’ll come back later,” Enjolras replies with a winning smile. Seriously, he could get anyone he wants with it.
Grantaire, momentarily blinded, stammers, “Uh, okay, yeah.”
Enjolras moves aside, seemingly lost in thought, and then strides out the door with purpose and an eager grin on his face. Grantaire doesn’t have time to wonder what exactly that purpose is because another customer approaches the register.
He doesn’t need to wonder for long because two hours later, Enjolras walks back in with a frazzled expression and his reusable boba cup. Grantaire takes it automatically, but to his surprise, it’s full.
Running a hand through his blond hair, Enjolras takes a deep breath and asks, “You’re the boba to my tea, so will you go out with me?”
Grantaire just gapes at him, eyes huge. When he finally finds his voice again, he hesitantly asks, “You’re asking me out?”
Enjolras huffs. “Unless you see anyone else, yes. I made you boba, which you can have, even if you don’t like me back.”
“You made me boba?” Grantaire asks dumbly. His voice might be a bit breathy, but that can only be blamed on Enjolras leaning closer.
“Well, I tried. The first three attempts at making the tapioca went terribly, and the tea ended up… blech- you like matcha, right? It's green, and you said your favorite color is green, I thought I recalled that being your favorite flavor, but-”
“I could kiss you.”
“-I think it turned out okay. Wait, what?”
Grantaire blushes so brightly, he’s sure he can replace the faulty bulb in the light fixture. He hides behind his bangs and mumbles, “Um, I said that I could kiss you. You made me boba after all…”
As he trails off, he sneaks a peek at Enjolras, whose cheeks are also tinged pink. The only thing separating them is the pesky counter.
“Then why don’t you?”
Encouraged, Grantaire fists his hands in Enjolras’s collar and yanks him close before hurriedly pressing their lips together. Enjolras’s mouth tastes sweet, as though he was testing all the tea he made earlier himself, and it slides against Grantaire’s in a gentle caress. His hands come up to try and pull Grantaire closer, like he wants to lift him over the counter and into his arms.
It’s only when Cosette comes by and bonks them both with a heart-shaped balloon that they separate like chastised school-children caught for too much PDA.
Grantaire feels a little faint when Enjolras’s lips finally leave his, and he knows for a fact that his legs are wobbly. His knees might buckle and give out any moment, and it’s all Enjolras’s fault. To distract himself, Grantaire quickly picks up Enjolras’s cup and sticks a straw in, cradling it with both hands while he sips.
“It’s good!” he exclaims, chewing on the boba. “The pearls are a bit too gummy, but I love the tea.”
Enjolras looks so immensely relieved that Grantaire has to beam happily at him. Oh, he is going to ramble so fucking much to Marshmallow later on when they’re alone.
“So…” Enjolras begins, “about that date, are you free tonight?”
“Y-yeah. Did you have something in mind?”
“Well, I’d like to meet your cat. I mean, it might be too early for that since I only just asked you out, but I didn’t really plan anything or make any reservations. It’s apparently always busy on Valentine’s Day too.”
Grantaire quickly leans up onto his toes to peck Enjolras’s cheek, which seemingly does the trick, flustering him enough to stop the torrent of words. “Let’s watch a movie at my place, yeah? I can make a mean spaghetti carbonara too.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Enjolras whispers, turning to kiss him properly. Unfortunately, the pesky counter is still there.
And then Cosette comes by to whack them again with her balloon. “Go have your lovey-dovey sap fest elsewhere! Shoo! I don't need more cavities than I already get just from working here!”