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Story Notes:

Usually, I would add something like this to my one-shots thread, Like You Want to Be Loved. However, I have a bad feeling that this is going to expand and eventually become its own little universe. I know my muse and she is enjoying this Justin way too much for this to be a one time deal.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.


Justin smiled tightly at his next customer.

 

He was a regular. A Brandon Something-or-the-other, who thought himself to be the up and coming Stud of Liberty Avenue; but he was really nothing more than a wannabe Lothario and a poor imitation of the true Stud. This man, while charming and handsome, had neither the dark, sexy good looks nor the charisma of the current stud; and he was only setting himself up for disappointment in a land where King Kinney reigned supreme.

 

Not that Justin would ever tell Kinney that; nor had he ever sampled any of Kinney's charms himself being a man with a healthy amount of self-respect and enough sheer stubbornness to back it up. He was all too aware of Kinney's love-them-and-leave-them-panting-for-more persona and he had absolutely no intentions of falling down that rabbit hole, fruitlessly chasing after a man that simply did not want to be caught.

 

And Justin would; chase him that was if he'd ever gotten a taste. Because he was realistic and had seen the man in action and no one could resist going back for a second taste of nirvana based on the long trail of broken hearts the man had left in his wake.

 

Had he been a younger, much more naive man, and had he actually ventured out to the Avenue as he'd planned a few months after his seventeenth birthday; and had he actually met the man before learning of his reputation, Justin had no doubt that he would have been one of the brokenhearted many. But, instead of hitting Babylon as he'd intended, Daphne had dragged him off to a college bar she knew and he'd met Ethan instead.

 

But that was an entirely different story and one that didn't need repeating.

 

Justin nodded his head, barely holding back his impatience as the other man droned on and on, plying him with all his best moves and come-ons in the hope that Justin would finally fall into his bed. One that Justin had absolutely no interest in and he was hard pressed not to simply give in and yawn in the annoying prick's face.

 

Fuck, where was Daphne when he needed her?

 

Oh, that's right – she was at home sick with the 'flu,' which he had a feeling was more of a hangover than the actual flu given the fact that he knew damned well she and 'her girls' as she called them had hit Babylon without him last night. And why a bunch of straight women wanted to go to a gay club, he had no idea; but he was pretty sure that he'd overheard Daphne mutter something about wanting to 'enjoy the scenery without being mauled by the wildlife,' or the like the last time he'd asked her.

 

He'd never understand women; thank God he was gay.

 

Justin ran his hand through his hair before taking the proffered ten-dollar bill that the lewd libertine waved in front of his face. Barely quelling the urge to roll his eyes, Justin grabbed it and stuffed it into the drawer, groaning internally when Brandon winked and told him to keep the change. Stuffing the five and some change into the tip jar, Justin sighed in relief when Brandon finally moved away and was replaced by someone else. He wasn't certain how much more he could take of the other man's antics.

 

Smiling at Todd, Justin didn't even have to ask he wanted; it was the same each and every time despite Justin trying to get him to step out of his comfort zone – a tall Caramel Macchiato with a brie, apple and ham breakfast croissant. And if he was feeling adventurous, he'd add a smear of apple chutney.

 

"The usual?" Justin asked with a smirk.

 

"Yes, Justin," Todd responded with an exasperated smile. "We go through this every single time. I'm a creature of habit and see no need try anything new."

 

"That's because you've never tried our Raspberry White Chocolate Muffins," Justin enticed with a teasing smile, making the other man roll his eyes.

 

"Just the Macchiato and the sandwich please," Todd huffed, pulling out a twenty.

 

"Fine," Justin sighed, ringing up the order. "But mark my words; one day I will tempt you with something you cannot resist. And then, I will mark it down in history as they day you finally caved to good sense."

 

Todd opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut in annoyance when he was interrupted by the jackass leaning against the counter staring at Justin's ass.

 

"You can tempt me any time," Brandon purred; he licked his lips and leered, his eyes slowly running down Justin's body as if he wanted to eat Justin alive.

 

Which he probably did. Asshole. Never in a million years.

 

Justin sent Brandon a withering glance; which seemed to go over the other man's head as he just grinned unrepentantly, making Justin want to stab him with a spork. Impractical? Yes; but oh-so-satisfying if he could pull it off. He was certain he could find a stainless steel spork somewhere; and if he couldn't, then he'd have one custom-made.

 

Turning back to Todd, Justin huffed in irritation and shared a commiserating look with the other man; both of them found Brandon to be insufferable on the best of days and a complete and utter waste of time and space on the worst. And then there were days like this where Justin seriously considered homicide knowing full well that between him and Daphne they could so get away with it.

 

No one would miss the little snot.

 

Handing Todd his change, Justin smiled when the other man stuffed a couple of dollars into the tip jar, and then took a centering breath before he annihilated the asshole still looking at Justin as if he were a prime cut of beef. He once again reminded himself that blood on the floor was unattractive, unsanitary and so not the statement he wanted to make for his quaint little coffee shop and café. No matter how artistically splattered.

 

He sighed and prayed for strength.

 

Typically, even on the worst of days, Brandon didn't get to him; he could usually ignore the asshole. But he was having a particularly shitty morning today and it was only half over. As, not only had Daphne, his baker, bailed on him this morning; meaning that he had to be in at four in the fucking morning to take her place, on his day off! But then his morning cashier called in sick with the same 'flu.' And since September was one of Daphne's minions, he had a feeling he knew just when this so-called 'flu' came on.

 

This was followed by the fact that the order he'd been counting on this morning came in late and was missing half of his ingredients. That meant that he had to get a little creative with the menu as he couldn't do several of the planned menu items. Thank God he didn't actually have a set menu for the café otherwise he'd be seriously pissed.

 

And then to make matters worse, his first customer of the day had been his ex-boyfriend, Ethan; who had recently decided that if he hung around the café, casting cow eyes at Justin long enough, that Justin would cave into his dubious charms once more. It was ridiculous as Justin hadn't even been the one to end the relationship with the cheating bastard; Ethan had gone away for some gig in Europe and had fallen in love with, and married, some idiot teenager, who claimed that Ethan was the love of his life.

 

Funny, how lifetime loves only last six months when you're eighteen. Bet Ethan was kicking himself over that one; especially since Justin was having none of his bullshit when he decided to re-enter Justin's life, spouting his usual 'but we're soul-mates' and 'you're my muse' rhetoric. And then proceeded to hang around like a bad smell testing the numerous ways Justin could tell him 'no way in hell' much to his annoyance.

 

Could this day get any worse?

 

Justin turned to the next customer and then smiled with genuine warmth and amusement; Drew grinned back, but Justin knew that the other man's attention wasn't on him at all, but on the tall, effeminate and flamboyant man two back in the line. Honestly, the continuing dance between the Ironman quarterback and his friend Emmett was just gold; he really wished the two of them would stop fucking around and just get on with it already, putting them all out of their misery.

 

"Hey Drew, what can I get for you today?" Justin asked, internally rolling his eyes when Emmett snuck a quick glance at the football player and then whispered slyly to Blake before they both giggled.

 

Idiots. All of them.

 

"I'll have a large Earl Grey with room for cream," Drew said, his eyes trained on a smirking Emmett. He smiled and then looked back at Justin. "And I'll take two of your Cranberry Orange muffins for me and a Chocolate Banana muffin as well for the coach."

 

"Bob is going to hate you for that," Justin laughed, ringing up the sale. "You know his wife has him on a diet and he can never resist those things."

 

"I know," Drew smirked, a devilish glint in his eye. "But that's what makes me his favorite; I take those Honey Bran muffins she insists on sending with him and replace them with the Chocolate Banana and what she doesn't know won't hurt her."

 

"You know you aren't fooling her," Justin snickered, handing Drew his change; and then he sent an exasperated look towards a leering Emmett, who was practically drooling as he stared at the Ironman's ass. "She's well onto your games."

 

"I know," Drew laughed, shoving his change into the tip jar; but his eyes strayed to Emmett once more. "She's taken me aside and told me exactly what she'd allow in terms of 'breaking' his diet. And on that, what the coach doesn't know won't hurt him."

 

"You're terrible," Justin shook his head and then huffed with exasperation as Emmett's and Drew's gazes collided, but they still didn't do anything about it. "Do me a favor? Ask him out before I lock you two into the supply closet and throw away the fucking key. This is getting ridiculous."

 

"I will," Drew promised, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he licked his lips and leered at a flushing Emmett. "Soon; but for now, I'm having fun."

 

Justin huffed again and waved him off; well, at least he'd tried.

 

Shrugging his shoulders, Justin turned to the next person in line, and had just smiled at Leda when he heard the tinkle of the door bell. Glancing up, Justin groaned and nearly beat his head against the counter – because there in the doorway, her nose firmly stuck in the air, stood Lindsay Peterson with the true Stud of Liberty Avenue on her arm, preening like a queen as all eyes turned towards her.

 

Wrinkling his nose, Justin sighed and pinched the bridge of it, and realized that, yes, his day could indeed get worse. He really should not have tempted Fate that way. Looking up, he stared balefully as the problem child of the reality TV show called Pittsburgh Princesses strolled into the café as if she owned it and braced himself for the cameras and drama that always followed her.

 

And sure enough, there were a few shutterbugs, one lone cameraman, a sound man and other apparently necessary staff entering on her heels; fuck, this was the last thing he wanted to deal with today.

 

A spin-off of The Real Housewives series, the Princess series focused on the affluent, spoiled and pampered daughters of said Housewives and gave a bad name to the wealthy and elite, (his own family on his maternal side included), due to their over-the-top, entitled and obnoxious behavior.

 

Not to say that the wealthy couldn't be arrogant and entitled all on their own; in fact, Justin despised the vast majority of them because of the airs they put on and their view that they were better than others just because their bank accounts held more zeros than the average person. But, he also couldn't help but count, and resent, the number of times that Molly had run afoul of protesters, who painted his sweet, well-mannered and good-natured sister with the same brush as these beastly brats.

 

His mother had raised them right; and had they acted like these petty, insipid, pampered princesses, (Pipp for short), she would have tanned their hides.

 

Although, he did have to smirk at the scowl on Brandon's face when Brian Kinney stepped through the door, an indolent smirk pasted on his face. That alone made his entire week; especially when Kinney looked the other wannabe stud over and then dismissed Brandon as unimportant, forcing the other man to storm off in a high dudgeon.

 

He might just have to thank Kinney for that somehow; perhaps with his cock in Justin's…no, bad Justin! Bad thoughts! Bad thoughts!

 

Justin sighed, his eyes traveling over the dead sexy brunet, and momentarily wished that the man wasn't such a playboy; because damn, he was fucking gorgeous. And most definitely hazardous to his heart; especially when Kinney homed in on him and a deliciously sinful smile spread across his face. And then a hot hazel gaze followed in its wake, slowly sliding over Justin's body like caress, heating it from the inside out.

 

Fuck, how did he do that? Every time Brandon did it, Justin just felt the need for a shower; and not of the cold-I'm-about-ten-seconds-from-ripping-off-your-clothes variety, but of the, ugh-I-need-to-slough-the slime-off-my-body variety. But with Kinney, Justin was very tempted to say fuck his principles and beg the other man to fuck him in the back office. At least twice. Maybe three times.

 

Christ; he needed to get a grip.

 

Reluctantly dragging his eyes away from the brunet God standing in the doorway, Justin smiled at Leda and decided to ignore Pipp and the God for now; he had other customers to wait upon. Leda sent him a knowing smirk that had Justin glaring silently at her; which, in turn, just made her laugh and place the usual order for her and Mel, who was sitting at a table near the window. Evil bitch. He just knew she was laughing at his reaction to Brian, having been on the receiving end of more than one of his rants on the Stud.

 

Leda found it utterly amusing that for as much as he professed to not like Kinney and his love-them-and-leave-them ways, Justin also lusted after him like a dog in heat. What? He was human and the man was a God as he'd said earlier. Sue him!

 

Snickering, Leda opened her mouth, likely to tease Justin further about his fixation, when she was jostled to the side. Snapping her mouth shut, she turned her head and glowered at a simpering Pipp, who was doing her damned best to look sexy, but really only looked as if as if she'd been nailed in the head with a two-by-four. And just who she'd intended that look for, Justin didn't know; but he hoped like hell it wasn't him.

 

The mere thought of having Pipp panting after him turned his stomach.

 

Kinney stood beside her, a camera bag slung over his shoulder and his face fixed into a mask of boredom, but Justin could see interest flickering in his eyes as they studied his ass. Squirming under that lecherous gaze, Justin flushed and fought the urge to shiver when their gazes clashed and Kinney smirked knowingly before slowly licking his lips.

 

Licking his own parched lips in response, Justin squirmed again as the other man's eyes darkened and dropped to his mouth, staring at it with an intensity that made him shiver in truth this time. And then he quickly looked away and took a steadying breath, focusing on the till in front of him for dear life as he absently rung up Leda's order and took her money. Not that it helped any. He could still feel Kinney's scorching gaze on his body and it was making him envision all sorts of deliciously decadent and wicked things that Kinney could do with the tongue poking in his cheek.

 

This was so not helping his minor obsession with the man.

 

Handing the money over to a still sniggering Leda, Justin grinned when Leda stuffed a five in the tip jar and then shouldered her way past a simpering Pipp, purposely jostling her as she passed. Pipp huffed, but stared lustfully after Leda as she made her way to her table, all the while licking her lips in appreciation. That was not going to end well given the glare on Mel's face; which, if looks could kill, would have had Pipp splattered all over his pristine oak flooring. Because, then Justin would have to resurrect her and kill her himself for destroying his floor since blood was a bitch to get out.

 

Glowering at Pipp, Mel cracked her knuckles audibly and stared her down; Justin could almost hear the eerie whistle of a cowboy showdown and the howl of the wind in the background as Mel contemplated putting Pipp in her place. And that frightened him as Mel was a scrapper and he wanted nothing to do with that; not in his shop.

 

Luckily for him, he didn't have to as Pipp got the message and swiftly turned to (her date?) Kinney and fluttered her lashes. Kinney rolled his eyes at her syrupy smile and went back to being bored with the world. And really, Justin had to admire his dedication to looking as uninterested as possible with the woman at his side. Sadly, Pipp didn't seem to get the message as she giggled and flirted and cast cow eyes at the very obviously gay man. Her obliviousness was rather astounding.

 

Sighing, Justin couldn't help wondering if she was playing straight or gay today given that she was eyeing him, Kinney, Leda and Mel in equal intervals. He could never tell with her fluctuating sexuality from week to week. Not that there was anything wrong with having a fluid sexuality; but why she wouldn't just break down and admit that while she mostly liked women, she also liked a bit of dick on the side, he didn't know. There was nothing wrong with simply saying you were bisexual.

 

Justin looked at Pipp one more time and then resolved to ignore her.

 

"Hey, Emmy Lou," Justin smiled at the flamboyant man in front of him, mentally snickering when Pipp scowled at his blatant snub. "How's tricks?"

 

"Divine as always, darling," Emmett simpered, fluttering his lashes and preening when Drew looked over at him from his usual table; one that amazingly gave him the perfect view of the order line. Wonder why that was? "Divine as always."

 

"You are terrible," Justin snorted, shaking his head at his friend's antics. He looked over at Blake, who just rolled his eyes at the ongoing flirtation between Pittsburgh's premiere party planner and their favorite out-and-proud Ironman. "When are you going to put that poor man out of his misery?"

 

"As soon as he gets the balls up to ask me out, darling," Emmett smirked, blowing a kiss at an equally smirking Drew. "A Queen like myself needs to be worshiped; and until that happens, the boy will just have to pant and ogle from afar."

 

"You're as bad as he is," Just said, rolling his eyes. "One of these days, I'm going to get the two of you in the same place and I'm going to find a closet and lock you both in."

 

"Mmmm…" Emmett licked his lips. "Please do."

 

"Incorrigible," Justin laughed, secretly enjoying the interactions between Emmett and Drew as much as they annoyed him.

 

He flicked his eyes to the side and grinned inwardly at Pipp's annoyed expression at being ignored; nothing less than she deserved. Honestly, over-entitled, spoiled brats annoyed the shit of him. This one in particular given the things she'd said about Molly; but that was another story. He glanced at Kinney again and inhaled sharply when he found smoldering hazel eyes riveted on him.

 

Fuck! What was it about him that sent Justin into a tailspin?

 

Mesmerized, Justin stared into them, his body flushing once more under the power of that gaze; and it took everything in him to not grab the other man, slam him against the counter and have his wicked way with him. A flicker of a smirk flit across Kinney's mouth as if he were all too aware of the track Justin's thoughts had taken. Justin tore his eyes away, silently cursing his susceptibility to outrageously gorgeous brunets.

 

"So, what can I get for you?" Justin squeaked; and then he cleared his throat, his cheeks heating further at Emmett's wide and knowing grin. Fucker!

 

"I'll have a large Pumpkin Spice Latte with extra whip and a drizzle of caramel," Emmett said, his grin broadening at Justin's obvious discomfort. He'd get the asshole back for that later. "And one of those divine Chocolate Turtle muffins and whatever Blake wants."

 

"Em…" Blake protested as his eyes flicked between Kinney and Justin curiously. Fuck. Justin just knew that he'd be getting a call about this tonight. "You don't have to…"

 

"Nonsense." Emmett waved Blake's protests off with a flick of his hand. "I owe you for lunch the other day. I still can't believe that I forgot my wallet; so embarrassing."

 

"It was the diner," Blake huffed. "It wasn't like it was a hardship by any means."

 

"Still." Emmett shrugged, rolling his eyes and shoving Blake's ten-dollar bill away when he tried to hand it to him. "A lady always pays her debts."

 

"Fine," Blake said; he rolled his eyes and stuffed the ten into the tip jar instead. Justin smiled; his cashiers and baristas were going to be happy campers at the end of the week if this kept up. "Two large regular coffees, one with an extra shot, both with room for cream, please; and two of your lemon and poppy seed muffins."

 

"Boring!" Emmett intoned, drawing the word out as he handed a couple of twenties over to Justin.

 

"We're eating breakfast," Blake huffed, defending his choices to Emmett as he usually did every time the came in. "Not dessert."

 

"Still boring," Emmett stated without remorse, pinning Justin with a gimlet eye when he tried to hand him his change. Shaking his head, Justin stuffed it into the tip jar. Oh, yes; definitely a bunch of happy campers this week. "But whatever you want, darling."

 

And then with a jaunty wave, Emmett stepped away; he walked over and leaned against the pick-up counter, his ass jutting out strategically, and again, within perfect view of a drooling Drew. Snorting, Justin exchanged an amused, but exasperated, look with Blake as he too stepped away from the counter. He stood by Emmett, carefully out of the line of sight of the two men, who were eye fucking each other yet again.

 

Rolling his eyes, Justin turned back to the line and nearly groaned aloud when he realized that there was no one else in line. Frantically looking around the café, Justin looked for anything else that he could possibly do rather than deal with Pipp; but alas, he could find nary one pressing thing to occupy his time until Hunter came in to relieve him of his cashier's duties, which should be any time now.

 

Mentally sighing, Justin fixed his face into a polite mask, drew on his inner WASP and smiled that smile that his mother taught him – you know; the one that seemed friendly, but really said eat-shit-and-die. He was pretty sure that Pipp would recognize it for what it was being a WASP herself, but wouldn't comment as it would be far more embarrassing for her to call him out on it than it would be for him to do it. After all, she really wouldn't want the world to know just what he thought of her.

 

"Can I help you?" he asked in a chilly tone, all the while still smiling that smile.

 

Pipp fixed an equally frosty smile on her lips, finally recognizing him for who he was. Yeah, that's right you mindless bitch; bet you won't forget me anytime soon. You want to take on one Taylor, you get the rest of us on your ass. And I'm considered to be the nice one; you so don't want Mommy Taylor riding that flat, uninspiring ass of yours.

 

As for Kinney, he snorted at Justin's lack of enthusiasm when greeting Pipp, instantly drawing a scowl from the woman at his side. Kinney just stared back blandly, completely unaffected by her ire, and arched a brow as if to say, 'fucking get on with it.' Pipp huffed at Kinney's lack of defense and then turned back to Justin with a haughty expression.

 

"I'd like a large, decaf, soy latte with an extra shot and cream," she demanded, her lips curled into an unattractive sneer.

 

Not that Justin thought she was all that attractive to begin with; even if he had been attracted to women instead of men. Oh, he supposed that she was pretty in a purely aesthetic way; he couldn't deny that, but then she opened her mouth and it marred any smidgeon of physical attraction she possessed. Mentally rolling his eyes, Justin grabbed a cup to write down the order and then paused as her words finally registered.

 

"Excuse me?" Justin asked; he looked at her incredulously, uncertain if he'd heard her correctly. Kinney smirked and then chuckled a little at his expression.

 

"A large, decaf, soy latte with an extra shot and cream," Pipp said with a haughty tilt to her nose; and really, Justin wondered how she didn't drown when it rained with her head tilted to that degree. Although, she likely had some poor minion on standby just to hold her umbrella. "And make it snappy; I don't have all day."

 

Justin just stared at her uncomprehendingly for a long moment; then he looked back at Kinney, who'd covered his mouth to smother another laugh at this point, just to make sure this was actually happening and not some weird, sleep-deprived hallucination.

 

"Is this a prank?" Justin demanded, looking around the café suspiciously. "Is that why that guy over there has a camera? I thought Ashton Kutcher hosted Punk'd. Although, I would much prefer being pranked by your companion than Kutcher..."

 

"Why would you think it's a prank?" Pipp huffed, her mouth pinched with annoyance. Justin goggled, still unwilling to believe that she wasn't fucking with him in retaliation for his earlier actions; but Pipp just stared back and gestured for him to get on with it.

 

"Are you serious?" Justin demanded yet again; there was no way that someone could be that…actually, he didn't even have words for what he thought of her order as his brain simply refused to comprehend this level of utter mindlessness.

 

"Of course I'm serious," Pipp huffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder; and then she preened when she saw that everyone was staring at her. She somehow failed to notice the incredulity and disdain in their expressions; not that Justin was surprised by it.

 

Or maybe she just ignored it; any attention was good attention to most of these twits.

 

Shaking his head to clear it, Justin once again looked at Kinney for clarification, but got none when the man just rolled his eyes and shrugged. Justin then looked back at Pipp and said, "Wait, so let me get this straight…you want a decaf coffee with soy milk; and then you want me to add an extra shot of espresso and cream to that?"

 

"Yes." Pipp blinked and stared back at him as if this was a perfectly reasonable request; which to her, it likely was. But Justin was having none of it.

 

"No." Justin stated; because he was just fucking done at this point.

 

He'd already had a shit day between having to be in at fucking four in the damned morning, followed by serving the masses because Daphne and her minion called in sick. He'd had to completely revamp his menu on the fly because the idiots at his supplier couldn't get a fucking order right. And then he'd had to listen to the simpering and whining of Romeno, the wannabe famous fiddle player.

 

He was so not dealing with this shit today.

 

"What do you mean no?" Pipp demanded; staring at him as if she couldn't believe that he'd dared to refuse her order. Justin stared back implacably.

 

"Exactly what I just said," Justin stated, completely unmoved by what he sensed was the beginning of a WASP temper tantrum. He'd sparred with better and had come out the victor; this wannabe, nouveau riche bitch had nothing on him and his counterparts. "No. If you want caffeine and cream added, just order a fucking regular coffee with cream."

 

"I don't appreciate your attitude," Pipp huffed, flicking her hair yet again.

 

Justin just arched a brow and contemplated whether or not he could grab his scissors fast enough and chop the offending hair off before she'd even noticed. It would certainly solve one annoying issue; even if it left many more in its place.

 

"First, you rudely ignore me…" Pipp complained to no one in particular, an aggrieved expression on her face as she started to get wound up.

 

Justin looked at her blandly. I'm rude? I'm not the one who pranced her way in here as if she owned the fucking world, cut to the head of the line without so much as a by your leave and then acted like a spoiled bitch when she was rightfully ignored.

 

"…While I was standing there, right in front of you," Pipp continued, working herself into a fine tizzy. "And now you're refusing to make my order? Just who do you think you are?"

 

"Justin Fucking Taylor," Justin stated; ignoring Kinney's snort as he mockingly held out his hand to Pipp. "Nice to meet you. I'm the guy who has the right to refuse or offer service as I choose; and I chose to serve the people who actually waited their turn in line before some snotty brat who barged to the head of it."

 

Pipp's mouth gaped open. She blinked; and then she blinked again in astonishment before her mouth snapped shut and pinched as if she'd sucked on a dozen lemons. Her nose scrunched as if she'd smelled something foul. Likely her attitude.

 

"Do you know who I am?" she demanded haughtily, making Justin roll his eyes; like he could ever forget the entitled bitch much to his annoyance.

 

But instead of responding, Justin made a loud, game buzzer sound, sending the rest of his patrons, all of whom were avidly watching the scene, chuckling. Kinney just leaned against the counter with a small smile, his rapt gaze bouncing between Justin and Pipp as he too watched them with ill-concealed amusement.

 

"Wrong question." Justin said, smirking when Pipp frowned in confusion.

 

"What?" she asked uncomprehendingly.

 

"You asked me if I knew who you were," Justin reminded her; and then he lifted a single shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. "And I said – that's the wrong question to be asking."

 

Pipp stared at Justin, unsurprisingly flummoxed by his statement. Despite being a so-called WASP, subtlety was often lost on her. And as he'd said before, a war of wits this was not.

 

"And just what is the right question?" Kinney asked in a silky tone, a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face. He'd obviously caught onto Justin's game.

 

"Ah! There is intelligence in this one." Justin grinned and pointed at Kinney, who preened at the acknowledgement. "At least one of you possesses it." Justin turned back to Pipp with a condescending smile. "The right question is – do I care who you are?" He paused for a drawn out moment, relishing Pipp's sour expression. "And – if you couldn't tell from my demeanor – that would be a fuck no."

 

"Well, I never!" Pipp huffed, one hand pressed to her chest.

 

Justin smirked and gave her a thorough once over.

 

"Yeah, I can easily believe that," he snickered, not bothering to maintain his mask of politeness at this point. The kid gloves had come off long ago and he didn't give one fuck if Pipp, and others of her ilk, never graced his door again.

 

Pipp gasped and looked even more affronted if that were at all possible.

 

"Because, in order to do that, you would have to remove the stick from your ass," Justin continued, his eyes sliding appreciatively over a still preening Kinney; and then he flicked them back to the apoplectic woman in front of him. Puce was not her color. "As, I'm not certain if you noticed this; but that man is queerer than a three-dollar bill and has no interest in that thing you call a puss…"

 

"I'll have you fired for this!" Pipp cried, cutting him off; which was likely a good thing, as friends or not, Leda and Mel would have kicked his ass if he'd used that word.

 

"No you won't." Justin stated confidently; as the owner of the café, there was no way that would ever happen. Honestly, know thy enemy before you engage in battle.

 

"Let me speak to your manager and we'll see what they think about that," Pipp hissed; although it ended up having all of the effect of a drenched kitten on Justin.

 

"Sure!" Justin quipped with a bright grin; he made a big production of moving away from the counter, paused and then leaned back against it and gave Pipp an even larger smile as he asked. "What can I do for you?"

 

Snorting with amusement, Kinney smirked and then had to look away when Pipp glared at him; but Justin could tell by the shaking of his shoulders that he'd caught on and was desperately trying to hold back on his laughter. Unsuccessfully so.

 

"I told you to get me your manager!" Pipp demanded, her cheeks flushed with temper.

 

"And I just did," Justin intoned with another bland smile; one that broadened as Pipp's eyes widened in comprehension. "Justin Taylor – manager and owner of this fine establishment since…well, since I opened it three years ago. How can I help you?"

 

Pipp just stood there, her cheeks brick red with embarrassment at her mistake, and silently fumed at a smirking Justin. Kinney walked a few steps away and leaned against the bakery display, huffing and wheezing as he tried to contain his mirth.

 

"Can't exactly fire myself," Justin blithely said; and then he cocked his head thoughtfully. "Although, I suppose it could be interesting to try. How would one go about that without looking completely crazy do you think?"

 

Pipp remained silent, while Kinney dropped all pretense of containing his amusement and gave a full belly laugh much to Pipp's irritation.

 

"I suppose I could look at myself in the mirror and tell myself that way," Justin mused, scratching his chin as he stared off into the distance. "But then I'd just be talking to myself and that is a whole level of crazy I don't want to touch." He paused and then turned back to Pipp with an earnest look. "Maybe I should make a video? And then I can send it to myself and watch it. What do you think; do you think that might work?"

 

Pipp spluttered, her cheeks flaming as she looked around the café, finally noting the laughing patrons around her. All of whom had been caught by the far-too-gleeful cameraman and other assorted film people that followed her on a routine basis.

 

Yeah, take that you bitch; bet you'll think twice about coming after my sister next time, won't you? This is nothing more than you deserve and only a small taste of what's in store for you for fucking with the Taylors. Scurry off while you can.

 

"I'm never coming here again!" Pipp haughtily announced with a flick of her hair; not that anyone in earshot cared. In fact, Justin wouldn't be surprised if he actually got even more customers if they actually put this on the show.

 

"I'll try to survive the heartbreak," Justin said, his tone dry as the Sahara. "Be sure to pass that on to your friends for me. It would spare me from having to deal with more self-entitled, prissy little princesses like you."

 

Pipp attempted to stare him down one last time, but Justin just leaned further into the counter and gave a negligent wave, hoping that it would send her on her way. Huffing she spun on her heel and gestured to Kinney, who just shook his head in disbelief and continued to lean against the display case with a grin. Mouth agape, Pipp stared at the deserter for long moment; and then huffed, turned an unattractive shade of purple and flounced off, her camera crew scurrying out behind her.

 

Sighing, Justin waited until she and her entourage were out of sight before he slumped against the counter. He dropped his head into his hands and pressed his fingers against his temples, trying to fight back the headache blooming behind his eyes. Fuck this day.

 

Taking a few deep breaths, Justin ignored the rustle of clothing as Kinney moved from the display case to stand in front of him. And then he took a few more as he tried to regain his composure before he confronted the very sexy man leaning against the counter. Feeling a bit steadier, he finally looked up and met the amused, and frankly interested, hazel eyes that continued to laugh down at him. They stared at each other for a long moment before Justin smirked and tilted his head to the side.

 

"Welcome to Taylor Made Confections; and how may I deflate your ego today?" Justin snarked wearily, returning Kinney's frank appraisal.

 

"Marry me." Kinney demanded, a genuine smile on his face.

 

Justin's brows shot into his hairline, surprised that such a comment even jokingly spilled over love-them-and-leave-them God Kinney's lips. And then he smiled – that bright sunshine grin that he been told melted the coldest of hearts – and quipped.

 

"Well, that's a little sudden; how about we start with a date first?"

Chapter End Notes:

Yes, the coffee order that Lindsay made in the story is an actual, real life order that someone made. I found it on a website where people were bitching about the most ridiculous coffee orders they have ever taken. It was so ridiculous, that I just had to use it for this story.

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