Chapter Text
On any other day, Amajiki would’ve been attentive enough to remember that he had ordered a scalding drink. On any other day, Amajiki wouldn’t have been so exhausted that he took an enormous drink of his skinny vanilla latte. On any other day, he wouldn’t have spat out his drink and knocked the remaining liquid into his lap. The very faint silver lining was the fact that he had missed both his laptop and his notebook, and he had missed them both by mere inches. He was only able to be thankful for a few seconds, however, thanks to the extremely hot temperature of the drink that was seeping into the fabric on his crotch.
He didn’t yelp; he jumped to his feet and grabbed two handfuls of napkins from a nearby table without making a single noise. No one around him in the crowded campus cafe even glanced his way. Staying composed in stressful situations was a talent that Amajiki very, very rarely possessed, and he was extremely thankful that his brain and nerves had chosen that moment to stay calm. While he was able to clean the coffee off of his crotch silently, when he returned to his seat and stared at the essay on his laptop screen he put his head in his hands and groaned lowly.
Deadlines always made Amajiki lose his composure. Before becoming an art major, he’d been able to look at art whenever he pleased for the sake of enjoying art, but once he had been brought into the world of art, and more specifically photography, he was forced to overanalyze paintings to death. And of course, despite his intelligence, Amajiki was prone to procrastination due to his ability to overthink everything and psych himself out. For this particular essay, his procrastinating had come back to haunt him severely. The essay was due the next day in class, but every single time that he had sat down in his apartment to begin writing it, the internet had been down.
“Sir? Are you alright?”
The sudden voice startled Amajiki, and he looked up to see the most attractive boy he had ever laid eyes on, but it certainly wasn’t the first time that Amajiki had seen him. He was a barista; Amajiki had secretly and shyly admired him for many weeks, making excuse after excuse to do his homework at the Yuuei campus cafe just to try and see him. The boy, “Kirishima” as his nametag ordained, was wearing a black t-shirt and black skinny jeans covered by an orange apron with the Fatgum Cafe logo on the chest. His tight clothes were enough to distract Amajiki entirely from his writing, and he slowly brought his eyes up to Kirishima’s face. He had red eyes with a scar above his right, and his matching bright red hair stuck up in all sorts of unnatural angles. Amajiki couldn’t even imagine the amount of money the boy spent a month on hair gel. Kirishima had a pleasant smile on his face, and in his hand he held a drink that suspiciously resembled the drink that Amajiki had spilled.
“Sir? Uh… Sir?”
Amajiki’s eyes widened as he realized that he hadn’t answered the barista. “Oh! I’m alright. I cleaned… I cleaned myself for the most part,” he said, wringing his hands in his lap mostly for the sake of covering his still slightly-damp crotch.
Kirishima extended the new drink to him, and when he saw the confusion and hesitation on Amajiki’s face, his smile only managed to soften further. “I made this for you. I saw you spill your drink, and I figured you could probably use another one.” When Amajiki reached for his wallet, Kirishima shook his head quickly. “No, no, please. Don’t worry about it. It’s on me!”
Amajiki froze, not entirely sure how to react. “Thank… Thank you,” he stuttered, taking the drink from Kirishima gingerly. His mind was racing a million miles an hour telling him all of the things that he was doing wrong, but he did his best to stay focused on the conversation at hand.
“Your name is Amajiki, right?” Kirishima asked, and Amajiki saw him blush lightly. “I, uh… What are you writing?”
Amajiki glanced back at his computer, which only had a few sentences written on the screen. He turned back to Kirishima, who looked rather intrigued, much to Amajiki’s surprise. “An essay for my art history class. It’s due tomorrow, and I’ve barely started it. My internet has been really bad in my apartment lately, so… here I am, I guess,” he replied timidly, his voice filled with a slight quiver.
Kirishima nodded as if he was in the same predicament as Amajiki. The raven-haired boy watched as Kirishima looked over his shoulder at the other workers for a moment before sitting down across from him boldly. “I’m on break now, so…” Kirishima said, and Amajiki gave him a curious look before averting his gaze. “I was wondering if I could just sit here and talk to you. I’ve been meaning to talk to you for quite some time, honestly.”
“S-Sure,” Amajiki spluttered, his cheeks heating with a blush that matched Kirishima’s. He had no idea how Kirishima managed to be so confident. The redhead continued smiling, and Amajiki wondered to himself why Kirishima made him feel like he was looking at the sun.
“So, what’s your essay supposed to be about?”
Amajiki passed his notebook over to Kirishima apprehensively, and he watched anxiously as Kirishima flipped through the word-filled pages. “I was writing… I was writing about how Southeast France’s history with I-Italy influenced the production of art in each country, mainly focusing on the similarities and, uh… differences. It’s pretty… pretty boring, to be honest,” he admitted, scratching his arm in embarrassment.
Kirishima’s eyes were fixated on the scribble handwriting that littered the notebook. “I usually am not a huge fan of reading or writing essays or notes or whatever… but this is extremely interesting.” He lifted his gaze to stare at Amajiki, which caused him to look away shyly. “What are you majoring in?”
“I… uh… I’m a third year art major with a minor in photography…” he told him, and he watched as Kirishima flipped to the back of his notebook and stole his pen from his hand.
To Amajiki’s surprise, Kirishima began to write a little note, and he watched curiously with his eyebrows furrowed.
“Here. This is my number. I saw you looking at our job corkboard last week, and we’re actually hiring. It’d be amazing to have you work here, too,” he admitted, passing him back the notebook and pen. “Listen, my break is over and you have an essay to write, but I would love to get to know you better, Amajiki-senpai. Think about applying. You won’t regret it. And text me!”
With the same sunshine-filled grin, Kirishima stood and returned to his work, leaving Amajiki alone with his eyes glued to the number he had written down. The cute boy had given him his number, and he had offered him a job. Amajiki had a chance, and there was no doubt in his mind that he was going to take that chance.
It wasn’t Kirishima’s intention to notice. He hadn’t meant to spy on the black-haired beauty sitting at a table in the corner of the cafe, but when the boy had frustratedly taken a gulp of his still-scorching latte, Kirishima couldn’t help but stare with wide eyes as he spat out the coffee and proceeded to knock the rest of it straight into his lap. Gasping, Kirishima then did the only thing he could think of. He began preparing another latte for the poor boy. He remembered his order well - a simple skinny vanilla latte for Amajiki - but then again, the boy did come in quite often. In fact, every time Kirishima worked, he saw him. Maybe Kirishima hadn’t meant to notice Amajiki’s plight, but there was no denying that he had spent a fair amount of time gazing dreamily at the gorgeous student. It was hardly his fault that he had happened to be watching when Amajiki scalded his throat and spilled his drink.
The latte was finished in record time, and Kirishima slapped a lid on it and rushed it out to the boy. As he approached, Amajiki dropped his head into his hands and groaned quietly. “Sir? Are you alright?” Kirishima asked cautiously. He watched as Amajiki jumped slightly in surprise and turned to look at him.
It was at this moment that Kirishima remembered how tight-fitting his outfit was. Amajiki didn’t meet his eyes for a moment as he took in Kirishima’s form-hugging clothing, and Kirishima felt a rush of adrenaline at his look and awkwardly tried to regain the boy’s attention. “Sir? Uh… Sir?”
Amajiki then snapped his gaze up to meet Kirishima’s. “Oh! I’m alright. I cleaned… I cleaned myself for the most part,” he reassured him, moving his hands to his crotch to hide the damp patch on his pants. Kirishima smiled in response and offered forward the latte in his hands. The boy looked puzzled, and Kirishima’s smile softened. “I made this for you,” he explained warmly. “I saw you spill your drink, and I figured you could probably use another one.”
Amajiki’s eyes widened, and he immediately reached for his wallet. “No, no, please,” Kirishima urged, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it! It’s on me!” He smiled, hoping that Amajiki wouldn’t try to give him money anyway.
Thankfully, the other took the latte, looking unsure. “Thank… Thank you,” he stammered.
Kirishima smiled fondly. “Your name is Amajiki, right?” he asked, a blush blooming on his cheeks. “I, uh…” He wanted to explain why he remembered the boy’s name, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was weird. Forgoing his explanation, Kirishima instead focused his attention on Amajiki’s work. “What are you writing?”
Amajiki turned to his screen, looking over the few sentences he had written. Kirishima tried to look interested - and to be honest, he was so immediately captured that he didn’t have to try very hard - and hoped that the other college student could sense his integrity. Luckily, he seemed to. “An essay for my art history class,” he said simply. “It’s due tomorrow, and I’ve barely started it. My internet has been really bad in my apartment, so… here I am, I guess.”
Kirishima nodded in understanding. He had experienced the same thing many times as a fellow student, and he also had had his internet down before and been forced to use a cafe’s wifi. Hoping to help motivate him, Kirishima took a seat in the chair across from Amajiki, still beaming. “I’m on break now, so…” Kirishima explained quickly; he wasn’t really on break, but there was no way in hell he was going to pass up such a golden opportunity to talk to such an attractive boy. Amajiki raised an eyebrow curiously. “I was wondering if I could sit here and talk to you,” he finished. Then, without meaning to, he added, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for quite some time.”
Immediately he kicked himself. He sounded like a stalker.
To Kirishima’s surprise, Amajiki’s cheeks flooded with color and he spluttered out, “S-Sure.” Kirishima’s smile somehow widened further, pleased with his success. He couldn’t help but wonder if Amajiki’s agreement meant that he had a chance. If so, he was absolutely going to take it. “So…” He propped his head up on his hands. “What’s your essay supposed to be about?”
Amajiki slowly passed over his notebook, his eyebrows furrowed worriedly like he was scared of what Kirishima would think. The latter began flipping through the pages curiously, impressed with Amajiki’s creativity and thoroughness of his research notes. “I was writing… I was writing about how Southeast France’s history with I-Italy influenced the production of art in each country, mainly focusing on the similarities and, uh… differences,” he said eventually. “It’s pretty… pretty boring, to be honest.” He scratched his arm bashfully and looked up to see Kirishima’s reaction.
But Kirishima was still fixated on the notebook. Surprisingly, he didn’t find it boring at all. “I usually am not a huge fan of reading or writing essays or notes or whatever… but this is extremely interesting,” he admitted. It wasn’t very often that he was so enthralled with something like Amajiki’s notes. After a moment, Kirishima looked up and tried to catch Amajiki’s gaze. “What are you majoring in?”
“I… uh… I’m a third year art major with a minor in photography…” Amajiki muttered, embarrassed.
Instantly, Kirishima was presented a perfect opportunity; he proceeded to swipe the raven-haired boy’s notebook from in front of him. He pulled the pen from Amajiki’s fingers - a slight jolt rushing through him when their skin met - and began writing down the digits of his cell phone number. When he finished, he glanced back up at Amajiki with a goofy grin and handed back the notebook. “Here. This is my number. I saw you looking at our job advertisement corkboard last week, and Fatgum Cafe itself is actually hiring. It’d be amazing to have you work here, too. Listen, my break is over and you have an essay to write, but I would love to get to know you better, Amajiki-senpai. Think about applying? You won’t regret it. And text me!”
Adding to the effect, Kirishima smiled his signature bright smile at Amajiki and headed back to his post behind the counter. His “break” had been long enough to get the point across that Kirishima was interested, and that was good enough for him, especially when he thought about the fact that he might eventually work with Amajiki. Judging by the heated blush on Amajiki’s cheeks and the wide-eyed look on his face as he packed up his belongings and headed out of the cafe, Kirishima knew that he would be getting a text very soon.