Dreaming of You: M/M Gay Romance

by Marina Lander

  Anthony shrugs. "Surprise me," he says.

  "I will indeed surprise you," Callum tells him, leaning over to push several buttons on the espresso machine, "but Jacob, I can't make you another latte."

  "What?" Jacob demands. "Why? Are you out of soy? Because I can go get soy, there's a place right up the street--"

  Callum sighs, pulls a sheet of paper off the clipboard he keeps by the register, and hands it over. Jacob takes it, brow furrowed, but it's blank.

  "Is there some kind of psychology behind this I'm missing?" Jacob asks. Callum just looks pointedly down at the piece of paper, and Jacob follows his gaze.

  His hand is shaking so badly that the sheet is actually waving around in the air.

  "Oh," Jacob says. "Huh."

  "Your inevitable caffeine overdose isn't going to be on my watch," Callum says, cheerfully enough. "You get tea."

  "I don't like tea," Jacob protests.

  "You'll like mine," Callum says easily, and turns to Anthony. "How about you, mate? It's Anthony, yeah?"

  "It is," Anthony confirms. He looks like he's trying very hard not to laugh. Callum grins at him.

  "I'm Callum," he says. "Nice to meet you. Before I make your fabulous surprise beverage, are there any allergies I should know about? Particular tastes you prefer? I do aim to please."

  "Hmmm," Anthony says. "No allergies, but I am partial to raspberry, actually."

  "Excellent," Callum says. He pumps some syrup--raspberry and hazelnut, it looks like--into a cup, adds the milk, and pours the espresso in.

  Jacob is not jealous that Callum is making a custom drink for someone else, because that would be psychotic.

  "This is fantastic," Anthony says, taking a long sip. "Oh, bloody hell, seriously--Jacob, I take back all the shit I gave you, coffee this good would make anyone grin like an idiot."

  "You were grinning like an idiot?" Callum asks, raising his eyebrows. Jacob scowls.

  "He's exaggerating. Also, that was before I knew you were the kind of bastard who would make me tea when I ordered coffee."

  "You may have espresso again after three p.m.," Callum says loftily. He adds milk and a little bit of honey to a cup of tea and hands it over. Jacob glares at it balefully.

  "That's hours from now."

  "Would you have preferred decaf?" Callum asks, all innocence. Jacob grimaces and Callum grins. "Drink your tea, love."

  And Anthony is looking back and forth between them like they're a fucking sideshow act now, so Jacob takes a sip. It's sweet but a little bitter, a hint of peppermint in it, the soft taste of the honey rounding out the flavor. It's not as good as coffee, but it's close.

  "I guess this isn't torturous," he admits. "What is it?"

  "Custom blend," Callum says. "Top secret, I'm afraid. I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you."

  "I'd defend you pro bono if you did," Anthony says at once. "Anything for more of this coffee."

  "Traitor," Jacob says. "That's not even the kind of law you practice."

  "It could be," Anthony says. "I'd be willing to make that sacrifice."

  "I can see I have drummed up a repeat customer," Callum says. "As a gesture of my good faith, your coffee is on me."

  "Seriously, you can't just keep giving shit away," Jacob says. "How are you ever going to make any money?"

  "Don't argue with the man's kindness," Anthony says. " I intend to recommend him to all of my friends."

  "See, Jacob?" Callum says. "You catch more flies with--"

  "Oh, god, fine, spare me," Jacob says. "I'm paying for my fucking tea, though."

  "It isn't even what you ordered," Callum reminds him. "You can hardly be expected to pay for that."

  "You have no business sense," Jacob says. "None. It's appalling. When you Chapter 11 you will have no one to blame but yourself."

  "Don't be ridiculous, he will never go out of business," Anthony says. "This coffee is a revelation."

  "Careful," Callum laughs. "My ego's going to get all out of whack."

  "Your ego is already out of whack," Jacob grumbles.

  "Hardly," Callum says. "And actually--"

  He holds up a hand and wanders to the back room, coming back a second later with a scone.

  "New recipe," he says. "Wanted your opinion."

  "Mine?" Jacob asks. "Why?"

  Callum shrugs. "You have good taste," he says. "Also, you look like you could do with some feeding."

  Behind him, Anthony snorts. Jacob ignores this and takes a bite, as Anthony inquires after whether or not Callum makes all the pastries himself.

  "Just a few of them," Callum says, shrugging. "I get the rest ordered in--I don't have the time or the skill to do them all, more's the pity. Well?"

  This last is directed at Jacob, who hands the scone off to Anthony for his thoughts and swallows. "It's good," he says, "but you'll want to go lighter on the vanilla next time."

  Callum gives him a surprised, delighted grin. "Will I, now?"

  "Well, if you want them to taste better," Jacob says, flushing slightly. "Don't look at me like that, Anthony."

  "Today is the day that Jacob grins like an idiot and laughs and blushes and advises people on the amount of vanilla in their scones," Anthony says. "May 22, everyone. Mark your calendars."

  Callum, because he's a bastard, actually marks the calendar.

  "Okay," Jacob says, "I have to go back to work now."

  "Feel free to come in anytime," Callum says. "If it's after three I'll even make you another latte. Anthony, it was a pleasure."

  "Likewise," Anthony says, as he's dragged out the door.

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