We’re The Freaks

Richie knew exactly how he ended up as the personal barista of the biggest bully in Hatchfield High. The inability to say no combined with his huge fucking crush on the guy made it virtually impossible for him to avoid it.

Coffee was far from his passion. No, that belonged to the worlds he was able to slip into when watching anime or playing his favorite video games, but Beanies wasn’t a terrible place to work in retrospect. Sure, the customers could be assholes, but that was bound to happen anywhere he worked dealing with the dreaded public. The coffee smell did however make him sick quite often. It seeped into all his clothing, his hair, and his very being. He swore that no matter how much he scrubbed after his shifts there was still a faint scent of coffee. He was convinced the smell had burned itself into his nostrils and he would never escape it.

The scent made it even easier for his predator to find him. Had he not managed to evade Max a time or two he would have thought the jock had a tracking device planted on him. The way he was able to find him at any given moment was uncanny. So he submitted to bringing him coffee as a sort of peace deal.

“You know…” Max started his voice echoing in the empty locker room. He was a big tipsy, they’d just won the biggest game of the season against Clivesdale after all and he couldn’t say no to a few celebratory beers. He sipped the coffee from Richie, turning the cup over in his hands, his leg bouncing with the weight of what he wanted to say.

“Mhmm?” Richie questioned, his head tilted a bit in confusion. Max wasn’t usually one for having difficulties speaking, that was however very normal for himself. Sometimes his mouth moved faster than his brain worked and his words got all jumbled around.

“I absolutely fucking hate coffee,” Max finally whispered.

The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air. If he hated coffee why did he demand such a task from Richie?

Oh… could it be because… surely not?

Richie sucked in a sharp breath, his cheeks on fire as he looked away. Focusing on the nighthawk painted on the wall he began to count backward from ten before he glanced back over at Max, hoping that his flush was less visible now.

“Why?” he simply asked.

“To see you.”

“Me?” Richie asked dumbfounded. Surely he wasn’t hearing things correctly.

Max nodded, throwing the cup of coffee across the room. It landed in the trash can with a soft thud and silence for what felt like an eternity followed. Sobered up by the coffee he scooted closer to Richie on the bench who tensed up as their shoulders collided awkwardly.

Richie mumbled something that Max couldn’t make out, breaking the silence. With a bit of prodding he spoke again, this time a bit louder. “What game are you playing?”

“No game,” he shrugged and Richie relaxed his tense shoulders just a bit.

“I — I should be going,” Richie stuttered. Stumbling to his feet he attempted to run but Max was faster and he found himself pinned against the wall. Knowing a beating was coming he scrunched up his nose and closed his eyes, but it never came. Instead of a fist meeting his face, he felt something featherlight, hesitant, and a bit wet on his cheek for just a moment. His eyes flew open just in time to see Max pulling away from him, a furious red blush on his cheeks.

His eyes cascaded down, hovering over his lips and then up to his eyes. Terror couldn’t even describe his emotions as he found Max slowly moving back towards him, with a hunger in his eyes that he’d never quite experienced in real life before.

Their lips met. Soft, gentle, hesitant of the other.

Just as they were closing in for another kiss they heard loud footsteps coming their way. Panic settled across their faces as they jumped apart just in time for Jason and Kyle to stumble in.

“See ya, nerd,” Max chuckled with a sly wink and joined his friends.