Chapter Text
There is a potency, Marie thought, to being broke as hell in college.
Her admission into Godolkin University was one of the best things that had ever happened in her life - a fact that she had to remind herself of every day after class as she clocked in, tired as hell, at the local cafe/bar.
Lattes and Liquor was, all things considered, a pretty alright place to work. The boss wasn't kind, but he was bearable, and her co-workers were comparably civil. It paid more than the minimum wage, and it didn't smell that bad.
Most days.
That being said, she could have been working in fucking heaven and would still despise having to select classes that ended at 2pm (and by extension, started at 7 am) go to her dorm, change at the speed of light, catch the bus, pray there wasn't traffic, clock in at 3:30, work till 10, close, leave at 10:30pm get back to her dorm at 11, and then immediately have to do so much homework she wouldn't sleep till 2am.
At least all the work kept her mind off of how fucking miserable she was most of the time.
Emma was her salvation, coming over immediately after her classes ended (at the much more reasonable hour of 6pm) and clocking in, and immediately distracting Marie as much was humanly possible.
Like today, as she cleans some glasses and Emma rearranges their clear liquor on the shelf for the 14th time, poking Marie for the 14th time and saying, "Hey. Do you think this is the best layout?"
"I think.... that it looks wildly similar to the last three times you made me look at this."
Emma pouted. "You're so mean to me, Marie. Hey, that rhymed."
Marie rolled her eyes. "Emma, babe, you know I love you, but we are at work." She pointedly looked back at the glasses she was arranging as though they were the most interesting thing in the room, keeping her voice forcibly nonchalant as she asked, "And can you grab the mini marshmallows from the back?"
Emma saw right through it and nudged Marie in the ribs, teasing. "Is it for who I think? Is..." and here she wiggled her eyebrows, "Jordan coming around?"
"Ugh, don't start..."
No sane human being ordered from the cafe menu at 8pm, much less ordered a large matcha with marshmallows.
But for the past week and a half, Jordan had been doing just that - her hair always tousled and a wry grin always present on her face, curling her lips as she ordered the same thing, in that same soft voice:
"Iced matcha with marshmallows, please. Large."
A tiny smiled played across her lips as she remembered, and Emma faux gagged next to her. "You're thinking about her, right? Ugh, no, don't tell me, I can see it in your face."
"Fuck off, Emma, you're just as bad as I am." At her raised eyebrow, Marie shot her slanted look and said, "You mustered up the courage to talk to that Sam guy yet?"
Emma blushed, an action Marie was continually grateful to be able to control in herself, and looked defiantly at her friend. "I would like to inform you that I.... am planning on doing it soon!"
"Right. Soon. Look, I'll talk to Jordan when you talk to Sam."
And Marie should have stopped it there, should've seen the glint that danced in Emma's bright blue eyes, but she was tired, and not paying enough attention, so it didn't flag anything in her when Emma said, casually, "If I talk to Sam you'll talk to Jordan?"
"Sure. Whatever, Em."
"Hey, look." Emma grinned. "Speak of the devil."
Marie's head whipped around lightning fast, to watch Jordan walk through the door, breathing shallowly as though she had been running, towel thrown lazily around her neck.
Marie fought to sound casual as she walked up to the cafe counter, customer smile plastered on her face. "Hey, welcome to Lattes and Liquor, what can I get for you today?"
Jordan bit down on her lip, which drew Marie's attention to her mouth, and then Marie was just admiring the way that Jordan's mole moved when she said, "A matcha with marshmallows, please."
"Coming right up." Marie turned to the counter and started making the drink with practiced ease - and then, because fuck it, said, "Hey, why do you always come here at like, nighttime and then order caffeine?"
Jordan didn't look up from where they were tapping on their phone. "Exhausted college student, meet Marie."
Even as the sarcasm smarted against Marie's pride, the way her name rolled off Jordan's tongue made something warm unfurl in her chest.
"Right."
She pressed the lid down onto the drink and handed it to her. "Um, enjoy your evening."
"Thanks, dude."
Marie watched as she walked away, wanting desperately to say something-
"Damn. You are whipped." Emma had appeared next to her, shaking her head in disappointment. "I thought you were gonna start floating in her direction with your eyes closed like you were in a cartoon."
Marie playfully punched her in the shoulder. "Hey, don't be mean to me!"
"It's not mean if it's the tru-" Emma broke down into giggles as Marie tickled her, hands flying to her ribs to try and defend herself. "Hey, no fair-
"YOU TWO!"
They jumped, simultaneously, and attempted to look busy as their boss yelled at them from behind - "IF YOU TWO AREN'T WORKING BY THE TIME I COME I OUT THERE I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL FIRE YOU!"
Emma, almost cartoonishly, gulped and they both hollered, "Sorry!"
***
Emma walked through the staff entrance the next day looking suspiciously upbeat, and when she jauntily whistled as she pulled on her stupid uniform hat, Marie decided that it had gone on long enough.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Wrong? Wrong?! No, my dear friend, nothing is wrong," and here, Emma gracefully danced past her, through to the bar, and Marie felt herself almost plunge into cardiac arrest, "in fact you are the one in the wrong to think as such."
"Why are you talking like that, like a Shakespeare character?"
Emma stopped and grimaced. "Sorry. I had an extra performing arts class today. In a weird mood."
"Is that the one taught by Bourke?"
Emma nodded. "I have a nice little 'erotic rewrite' - his words - of a scene from Hamlet due in 3 days."
Now Marie grimaced. "Ugh, he's such a creep."
"For real. Anyway..." Emma leaned in, "I'm gonna talk to Sam today, and you are gonna ask out Jordan."
Marie blinked. "What."
"Y'know, like we said yesterday...?"
Marie stared at her friend, agape. "I seem to recall you saying 'talk to' yesterday, not ask out."
Emma shrugged and plastered on an unseeming smile that Marie knew was fake. "Who knows? But if you don't ask her, you'll have to suffer through me pining after Sam for another century."
Ughhh. Emma, as much as Marie loved her, truly became unbearable when she was horny, and insufferable when she was horny and pining. Marie exhaled, short and sharp, and then before her brain could further protest-
"'Fine. Fine!" and then, catching a movement in the corner of her eye, "but you better go ask that white boy if he's down to fuck right now, or deal's off." Marie flicked her hands in Sam's (who as always, looked extremely confused) direction.
Emma started to walk that way, then leant back slightly and hollered in the vague direction of the office, "HEY. I'M TAKING MY BREAK. Y'KNOW, THE ONE YOU'RE LEGALLY REQUIRED TO GIVE ME? THAT ONE."
Marie grinned and walked into the freezer to grab some ice, eternally grateful that Emma's power didn't enable her to hear Marie's heart, which was moving at a mile a minute as she filled a tiny metal bucket with ice and walked back behind the bar.
Emma's signature giggle-snort-squeak echoed out from where she was now sat with Sam, who was saying something animatedly as she smiled giddily at him.
Good. Marie wouldn't have to murder anyone that night.
She watched the door all night, head flicking involuntarily toward the door every time it opened.
8pm came - and unceremoniously went, and then 9, and then 10; and Jordan didn't show.
Marie tapped her nails against the counter, her anticipation slipping gradually into irritation. Emma looked sympathetically at her as she wiped down the tables, and smiled sadly as she said, "Look, she'll be here tomorrow. And you better hold up your end of the deal!"
"Yeah, yeah, I will-"
Her voice was cut off by the dingy fucking bell that twinkled as someone entered the cafe end of the shop.
Emma blinked emptily at her, and then her pointer finger was on her nose as she hissed, "Not it!"
Marie rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she slipped back behind the counter. "Hey, welcome to Lattes and Liquor, what can I get for you today...?"
Some god, somewhere, had forseen her plan to miserably masturbate to grainy porn that night, and delivered her an answer to her problems. Because, walking in 15 minutes before closing, was the hottest man Marie had ever laid her eyes upon.
His hair was falling into his face, like it had only been hastily swept aside, and he took a swig from his water bottle as he walked in, making it extremely difficult for Marie not to notice the way he licked his lips afterwards - his lips, which were plump and pink and very kissable. Marie wanted to kiss the mole next to it; wanted to kiss all of him really.
The tank top he was wearing did wonders for him - tight against his shoulders and chest and when he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, Marie could see line of dark hair widening as it trailed down-
"Hey, Marie, can I get an extra large iced americano and a cortado as well? To go."
It fucking better be, considering they closed in - she looked at the clock again - 14 minutes. Also, an iced americano? Fucking ew.
"Yeah, no problem, I'll get those whipped up for you right away."
Don't look at his chest, don't look at his chest, don't look-
As she very firmly did not look in the guy's general direction, her mind whirred. She was horny. There was a hot guy. What did she have to lose?
"Who should I make the drinks out to?"
"Andre, please. Both of them."
She diligently Sharpied on 'ANDRE' on both cups, then, because fuck it, she looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Do you wanna fuck?"
He blinked dumbly at her, which was honestly a reasonable reaction, all things considered. "Huh?"
Marie shrugged, trying to keep lazily casual, even as her heart thudded against her ribcage. "You're fucking gorgeous, I'd like to consider myself pretty decent as well, would you like to have sex? At your place, not mine - I live in a shitty freshman dorm that would really kill the vibe."
Slowly, his expression schooled itself into a smile, curiosity sparking behind his irises. "I have to give this coffee to my friend first."
That... wasn't a no, by any expression of the word. Holy shit, was this working?
"I'll be outside in ten minutes." Fuck, she didn't think this would work! This was crazy. She was fucking crazy, and she was probably gonna get murdered for it-
She became abruptly aware that the guy was talking. Fuck, Marie, get your head out of the louds!
"....name's Jordan." His eyes roamed over her, slowly, a clear appraisal, and he looked back up at her face with lust in his eyes. "See you in ten." He walked out, and Marie watched him go.
"Holy shit, I can't believe that actually worked."
"Bitch, me neither!" Emma was staring at Marie, her jaw dropped. "Holy fucking shit, that guy's a total smokeshow! And you were so badass, like," and here she dropped her voice in a shitty impression of Marie, "Hey, you're hot, let's get it on!"
Marie giggled. "Get it on? What are you, 55?"
"Hey, you don't get to make fun of me when I just watched you ask a customer for sex."
"You just said that he was hot!"
Emma snorted and bent over to pick. "His hotness doesn't detract from your absolute insanity. Now go."
"...What?"
"You think I'm gonna let you stay here and close and pass up on that guy?"
"I said ten minutes!"
"Which I am gonna use to mop these floors and wipe down the tables, and you are going to take the spare skirt that I have in my locker, which is short on me, so it'll be the perfect amount of slutty on you."
Emma looked up to the ceiling in faux misery, voice wavering, "It's so unfair that I have such a flat ass. So many fashion opportunities, lost." She looked genuinely sorrowful - but only for a second, and then she was grinning again, throwing her locker keys to Marie. "I also have an assortment of baggy t-shirts for your pleasure. Go get your man."
"He's not my man!"
"Go!!"
Marie walked into the staffroom. She dug around in Emma's locker for almost half a minute (finding a rather alarming stash of condoms, plus a vibe) before she found the skirt - and slutty was one word for it.
Borderline nude were two others.
Emma, you fucking godsend.
Now in her new outfit, she found Jordan leaning against the side of the building, looking vaguely concerned that he was being stood up, his mouth quirking up in a half-smile as he caught sight of her. "Hey."
She tried not to let his voice do things to her stomach. (She failed). "Hey."
They stared at each other blankly, Marie's fingers pressing against the inside of her wrist. Did she go too slutty? He'd seemed interested before, but now-
It was him that broke the silence. "So, my place?"
His car, at least, was nice enough. It didn't smell like old clothes and feet, which was more than she could say for her last hookup, so as he started the engine, she clicked her seatbelt in and sat back.
Silence sunk heavy onto them, settling sticky in Marie's throat. "So..."
Jordan didn't even look at her.
Y'know what? Fuck this.
Marie laid her hand on his thigh, unmoving, looking nonchalantly down at her nails.
She couldn't have imagined the hitch of breath from Jordan, loud in the silence, gently scraping her nails up his thigh, warm through his jeans.
"Marie." Jordan's voice was lower that it had been before, something rough and untamed at the edge of it.
"Hm?" She had her phone in her other hand now, playing some shitty no wi-fi game. She silently wished that she had some form of social media, so that she could be casually scrolling through Instagram as her finger traced the crease of his thigh.
Jordan exhaled shakily, once, twice; then Marie's hand skated over his crotch, and he swore and stopped the car.
Marie bit back a grin, feigning innocence as best as she could as she asked, "What is it?
Jordan's eyes flashed with emotion, and Marie could still sense his heart hammering beneath his ribs, but his voice was borderline monotone as he shoved open the car door and intoned, "We're here."
The trip up the stairs was taken in silence, and Marie once again prayed to whatever divinity that this guy wasn't secretly a serial killer, carefully strategising how she would explode him if he tried anything.
The key clicked loudly in the lock. Jordan pulled the door open and stepped inside, and Marie followed his lead.
It was like wildfire.
He couldn't keep his hands off her, clutching at her waist as he pulled in closer, lips searing against hers. He kissed along her jaw fervently, like he was desperate to touch all of her.
"Fucking tease, fucking distracting me, fuck, Marie..."
She shivered as his hands, cold from the autumn air, slid under her skirt, trailing slowly, casually up her thigh, lazily drawing circles that made something clench in Marie's stomach. Desire surged into her like a tidal wave, a broken gasp fighting its way out of her throat, her body swaying involuntarily towards him.
His breath was warm against her throat. He kissed her, once, then murmured, almost inaudibly, "Is this... can I?"
Silently thanking Emma for the skirt, Marie nodded, almost shaking apart under him.
The noise that she made when he gently pressed one finger into her was too embarrassing to remember.
She whined against his lips, hips bucking desperately up against his palm, trying to seek some form of friction, and she broke away from the kiss with a breathless gasp. "Fuck, oh please, please..."
A razor-sharp smile slashed through his face, sultry and dangerous. "Please what?"
Marie pouted, petulant. "Please, bedroom."
He laughed, grinning derisively at her, but the breathless note in his voice gave him away as he said, "Someone's eager."
Marie let out another helpless sigh as his hands found the hem of her shirt, relaxing under his touch as their eyes met in silent question.
Is this okay?
Marie only had time to frantically nod before her shirt was being tugged off, and his hands were bare on her sides, and she had to pull away again, Jordan following her mouth as it left his.
He looked at her in careful panic, brows furrowed, tracing gentle circles into her sides. "What? What's wrong?"
Marie's voice was soft, and she let herself lean into him as she whispered. "I do actually want to fuck you tonight, so as nice as this is..."
This time, there was no pretense. He laced his fingers through hers and tugged through a (blessedly short) hallway, and then they were through the door and on the bed and he was kissing her again, fierce, all tongue and teeth, and Marie couldn't feel anything but him, permeating every corner of her consciousness.
Moans spilled out of her throat with abandon, her back pressed against the mattress by the sheer weight of him, ever taunted by that teasing smile as he scissored his fingers into her, smirk growing wide as she threw her head back against the mattress.
The sensation of his jeans scraping against her thighs jolted her out of her reverie. Incredulity rose in mouth like a bad aftertaste as she noticed the difference in their... states of dress.
There is no way that I'm almost full naked and this guy's hasn't even lost his socks.
"Hey-" Her thoughts ground to an unceremonious halt, another whine was pulled from her throat as he lowered himself in between her legs, licking up into her.
I'm trying to make a point here, goddammit- "Hey!"
He stopped, hovering over her, eyes questioning.
Marie fisted a hand in the neck of his shirt, pulling him up so that his faces was inches from hers. That gentle panic was gathering in behind his eyes again, gaze flitting across her face. Marie couldn't help but reach up to softly brush her lips across his, and some of the worry seeped out of his face, so that it was nothing more than a content murmur when he asked, "What is it?"
Marie let her hand trail down to hook through the belt loop of his jeans, kissing him again as she let her hand dip lower. "Lose these?"
A dimple appeared as he grinned, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, and started to pull down.