The Tea Shop [mxm]

III: Mocha Madness

It turns out that the bakery Wren visited that lunch was very well known among his colleagues, and several of them recognised the bag he brought to work. After all the praise he’d heard about it, and his own pleasant experience, he decided to go back. Unfortunately, his Friday schedule wouldn’t let him. He spent the whole evening reading up on the new company he was supposed to assist, and from what he gathered their financials were a big mess. He could clearly see why they had requested his help.

      Despite his fairly young age of 31, he was well known in his field of work. It didn’t take long for him to climb up the ladder and land a well paying job in one of the major companies in England. Most likely it was his age that caused the gossip. Rumors about him sleeping his way to the top were common, because bitter old men that he surpassed after only months couldn’t handle the truth. He was simply a natural at what he was doing. 

      Now, at a Saturday, he was still coped up in his office. Work had no respect for weekends. The clock was ticking, though, and soon it was time to leave. He refused to stay past six, no matter how much his boss was nagging. His boss was a grumpy old man, and no one really listened to him at all. It’s a miracle any work got done around the office.

      As Wren’s watch finally told him it was time to leave, he let out a sigh of relief. It seemed like most of his feelings could be conveyed through different kinds of sighs, but he also found that they were rarely interpreted correctly by others. Most people would prefer a verbal conveying of those emotions, but that was something Wren was rather bad at. Perhaps that was why his previous relationships had ended rather abruptly.

      Either way, he made his way out of the office. He had already made a plan as to where he would go, and minutes later he was once again standing outside the door to Auntie Mae’s Tea Shop. He briefly wondered whether the baker would be there again or not, but quickly decided that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if he came back for him; it was the warm and soothing atmosphere he longed for. 

      The door wasn’t as loud as he remembered it, perhaps the cold wasn’t as intense this time. The snow was still on the ground, though.

     Once again he was hit by warmth and delicious smells when he opened the door, and he couldn’t help but smile. Already he felt at home in this small shop tucked away in the corner of the street. He would have to come here more often, he reminded himself as he closed the door behind him. As he looked back up he was met by the blue eyes he remembered from last time.

      ”Would you like to sit down, or are you just picking something up?” The dimples in the baker’s cheek were incredibly deep, Wren noted. He was amazed for a second, did he never let that smile drop from his face?

      ”Oh, it’s you.” Really, that’s all he could come up with? As already stated, he wasn’t too good with words. ”I would like a table yes, but it seems a bit cramped. Perhaps I’ll just take something to go.” The baker didn’t seem too happy about that idea, and persuaded him into taking a table in the back. After another brief encounter he was sipping a cup of divine mocha with crumbles of cupcake around his mouth. He was desperately craving another cup of coffee, and so when he got eye contact with the baker he raised his hand slightly. The baker started to come his way, and Wren got a warm feeling in his chest. Happiness? He was glad to satisfy his coffee addiction, of course.

      ”Another cup of coffee?” The baker asked. Wren made a mental note of asking for his name later. Simply calling him ”The Baker” no longer seemed enough.

      ”However did you know?” Wren asked teasingly, but thoroughly curious. Perhaps that was a skill waiters developed after time, he assumed. Knowing their customers’ needs, before they knew it themselves.

     ”You barely had time to put the cup down, before calling me over, and you’ve been clutching it desperately this whole time,” he smiles as he answered. Again, that smile.

      Wren felt fuzzy again, baffled by the other man’s observation. Had he really been paying that much attention to him? Wren ignored his previous thoughts, of course he knew that observing and pleasing the customer was the man’s job as a waiter.

     ”Well, you’re right. I would like another cup of of coffee. And give a compliment to Abigail, would you? The mocha was absolutely divine.” The baker reached for his cup, and before scurrying away answered,

     ”Of course, just one second.”

                                                                     -*-

     That whole evening Wren couldn’t stop thinking about their encounter. There was something special about that tea shop. There was something special about the people working in it; one man in particular. But, Wren would never admit to himself that was the reason for coming back. Of course not, he was far too old for stupid high school crushes. No, he simply liked the atmosphere.

      Oh, how dull that often repeated sentence sounded. He just came back for the atmosphere. How many times hadn’t he told himself exactly that?

      But he found his mind straying back to their brief conversation. He must admit, the man seemed interesting. He wouldn’t mind getting to know him. He hadn’t found himself a new friend in a very long time. Perhaps that’s why he felt that odd feeling around the baker. He was unsure of how to act when making friends.

      It was a true miracle he wasn’t that awkward during his working hours.

      The only friends he actually had weren’t many. His former roommate, a couple of acquaintances from school, and then the other two. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d come to like them as much as he did, because they were polar opposites. Still, they found each other in a bar, far too crowded for Wren’s liking. The two other must have sensed this, and they came over to harass him some more.

      They ended up having a very fun evening, bonding over a few drinks, and exchanging numbers before going their separate ways later that night.

      They were twins, the two others. Both tall, blond, and very outgoing. Popular among the female crowd like you wouldn’t believe. That alone should have been enough to tell Wren to stay away from them; he really didn’t need any more female attention. But they adopted him, in a way. They were determined to get him away from the bar and onto the dance floor. Not only literally, but figuratively too. He was a bit reserved in social situations, a rather cold man that never said more than necessary.

     That was just his way. That’s also why the twins found it so odd, when they later heard about Wren’s little baker, that he almost seemed excited about it. To be exited over something like that was not like Wren. However, the twins both decided it was a good change.

      When Wren found himself in bed that evening, he was feeling rather odd. He felt… content. Not stressed, as he usually felt when going to bed at night. There wasn’t a thought in his mind that concerned the job he was supposedly stressing out over. No, he felt content lying in bed, not thinking about anything, really. Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. There was a slight shadow of something, right there in the back of his mind. It wasn’t very clear, but just before his eyes fell shut and his breathing evened out, the thought became clear.

      He never did ask for the baker’s name.

A/N: So, I dedicated this to Avylinn. She has been amazing these last couple of days, encouraging me and being very welcoming. She has been an inspiration for a long time, and so talking to her was really great, and her reading and commenting means a lot. So this chapter is now dedicated to her :)