Work Text:
“Hinata! Could you do me a favor?” Kazuichi exclaimed, waving to the other and taking a perch atop Hajime’s desk.
“Uh, sure? What do you need?” Hajime stopped packing his things to listen to Kazuichi.
“I have a shift at the cafe, 10 pm tonight, but there's a coworker with the same shift as me that I don’t get along with. You wouldn’t mind covering for me today? I’m in too good of a mood to let it get ruined,” Kazuichi explained, clasping his hands together in a pleading manner.
Hajime didn’t have anything planned that day, and because it was a Friday, he didn't mind staying up late. Besides, he would get paid for covering Kazuichi’s shift. “I guess I could. It shouldn’t be a problem,” Hajime stuffed his notebook in his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
“Thanks bro, you’re a lifesaver,” the pink-haired man said, hitting Hajime’s back with the palm of his hand.
“Yeah yeah, save you’re bootlickling until after I do your dirty work,” Hajime said, rolling his eyes.
“I take it back. You deserve Komaeda’s wrath.”
“Komaeda?”
“You’ll understand soon enough,” Kazuichi said over his shoulder as he left the classroom.
Komaeda, huh? If Hajime had to guess, he would assume that's the coworker Kazuichi doesn't work well with.
Later that evening, Hajime drove to the cafe both he and Kazuichi worked at. The sun had been down for a while and the light from the cafe illuminated the streets. Hajime walked inside, triggering the bells above the door. He made his way to the back to retrieve an apron and tie it around his waist.
“You’re not Kazuichi.” A tall and lanky boy with white, wavy hair resting around his shoulders stood at the cash register.
“No, Kazuichi wanted me to cover for him today. I hope you don’t mind,” Hajime said, turning the coffee machines on.
“Not at all. I’m Komaeda. Who are you?” Komaeda asked, reaching his hand out.
“Hinata. Hajime Hinata. Nice to meet your acquaintance.” Hajime shook Komaeda’s hand.
“Business is quite slow this late at night, so make yourself comfortable,” Komaeda said, gesturing to the empty cafe.
Hajime nodded and did a few small chores to occupy himself.
As Komaeda suggested, the shift went slowly with little to no customers. Hajime had taken to doodling on the napkins in hopes of entertaining himself. “How long have you been working here?”
“Pardon?” Hajime asked as he wasn’t paying attention.
“How long have you been working here?” Komaeda repeated himself.
“Oh, about a year. What about you?” He said.
“Same here. It’s a little odd that we’ve never met, huh?”
“Well, not if you work this late at night. Speaking of, do you usually take shifts this late at night?”
“No, my schedule is quite messy. I have a variety of times I work, mostly in the early evening. It's a mess if I’m being honest,” Komaeda explained.
“I bet. Does it at least work out?”
“Yeah. I have a very loose schedule, so the manager just sticks me in wherever help is needed.” Komaeda lifted himself onto a counter. Hajime was fairly certain that wasn’t allowed.
“Isn’t early evening rush hour?” Hajime said, remembering the middle and high schools located nearby.
“It is. I don’t mind though, I can handle it.”
“So why are you working late today?”
“I don’t know. Someone couldn’t make it or something. I guess we’re both covering.”
“I guess we are.”
The click of a door opening and the sound of footsteps alerted both boys. The manager, an old cranky guy who sits in a dark and empty room and calls it work, walked out of the back. “It’s twelve, we’re closing. Komaeda, clean up would you?” the manager ordered before leaving the cafe.
Hajime looked to Komaeda, “All by yourself? Is he allowed to do that?”
“I don’t know. It’s fine though it’ll only take me an hour, maybe less,” Komaeda sighed, grabbing a broom propped against the wall.
“That’s a lot of time. It’ll be one am before you get to leave,” Hajime pulled out Clorox wipes from under the sink, “Let me help.”
“No, that’s quite alright. I can do it by myself,” the taller male insisted.
“That’s too bad because I’ve already started,” Hajime said, wiping down the tables passive-aggressively.
Komaeda said nothing in return, just continuing to sweep with a faint smile on his lips. They cleaned in silence, sweeping floors, wiping down tables, and washing dishes. They were done faster than either predicted.
“Thanks for helping me Hinata.” Komaeda smiled, putting the broom back in its place.
“It’s no problem. We saved thirty minutes with two people instead of one. Let’s go home, it’s late and I’m tired,” Hajime said, making his way to the door.
“Yeah,” Komaeda sighed, “Damn I have to walk home, the busses closed when my shift started.”
“How are you going to get home?” Hajime asked.
“I’ll walk. It’s only a mile or two,” Komaeda stated as if it wasn’t a big deal.
How is this man not dead? Walking around in the middle of the night? That’s just asking for trouble. “No, it’s way too late at night to be walking alone. I’ll drive you home,” He offered.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you. You don’t have to go out of your way just to ensure my safety.”
“Just accept my offer. Where do you live?” Hajime guided Nagito to his car in the parking lot, not too far from the cafe.
“Thank you so much. For everything. You are very kind,” Komaeda praised, sliding into the passenger seat.
Hajime started the car after he plugged in Komaeda’s address into the GPS. The drive was quiet, except for the radio cutting in and out. It was a short commute, only about fifteen minutes before he arrived at Komaeda’s apartment complex.
“Thank you so much,” The taller boy smiled, unlocking the car door.
“You’re welcome. Have a good night, and stay safe.”
“Will do, good night,” Komaeda said, getting out of the car.
“Good night,” Hajime replied to no one since the door had already been closed and Komaeda had walked away.
Hajime drove home, a little irked. Who agrees to work late at night knowing they don’t have a way to get home safely? Komaeda was sure to get hurt one day being so careless. Hajime shook his head. At least he made it home safely.
Hajime had agreed to cover for Kazuichi again. The pink-haired boy begging for Hajime to “take one for the team”. He agreed reluctantly after making him swear that it was the last time.
Kazuichi had been taken aback when Hajime announced he didn’t mind working with Komaeda and actually found it quite pleasant. According to Kazuichi, Komaeda was hell-spawn and only caused trouble. His reasoning being something about always getting hit on by ladies at work and never seeming to show interest.
Hajime entered the cafe, the familiar chime filling the currently empty building.
“Why hello again, Hinata. How are you on this fine evening?” A familiar scratchy voice called out to him.
“Oh, you know, covering for Kazuichi again. Pretty good otherwise,” Hajime stated, slipping his apron on.
“That’s great! I hate to break it to you, but it’s rush hour. Brace yourself, both the middle and high schools are let out in,” Komaeda looked at the clock on the wall, “Ten minutes.”
“Fantastic,” Hajime groaned, flipping the coffee machines on.
Low and behold, the cafe became flooded with children and adults alike. Parents with their kids along with tired, overworked, and hormonal teens crowded the small building.
“Holy shit, that’s a lot of kids,” Hajime whispered to Komaeda.
“Yeah, every day. At exactly two-thirty pm. Five times a week,” Komaeda whispered back.
“How do you do this every day?” Hajime asked, looking baffled.
“Usually with three other coworkers. We are harshly understaffed,” Komaeda looked at Hajime and winced.
“No kidding,” Hajime glanced at the customers, lining up at the cashier.
They were in for a long shift
Hajime was in charge of taking orders until the line dwindled to none. He then turned to help Komaeda make drink after drink. The tiny space wasn’t prepared for two, very desperate, minimum wage workers during rush hour.
“Sorry,” Hajime hissed, noticing he stepped on Komaeda’s foot
“It’s okay.”
Komaeda knocked into Hajime, trying to get a paper cup. “Ow,” Hajime rubbed his shoulder.
“My bad,” Komaeda apologized.
They danced around each other, dishing out coffee after coffee, with the occasional pastry. Hajime stood at the machine, waiting for the cup to fill. White locks of hair tickled his jaw and neck as Komaeda leaned over his shoulder. “You’re in the way,” He whispered into the brunette's ear, grabbing the coffee.
Hajime tried to push down the growing blush covering his face. That's not fair! He waited for the coffee to fill that cup!
He continued, trying to give the other space (and failing). Komaeda put his hand on Hajime's chest and lightly pushed him to the side. “Excuse me,” he said, putting the coffee on the counter.
They stood side-by-side, waiting for the coffee to fill the cups. Hajime felt Komaeda’s hip bump into his. When he looked up, the other had a faint smile on his lips, looking very intensely at the coffee.
“Okay, that was on purpose,” Hajime pointed out, pouring unnecessary amounts of creamer into the freshly made coffee.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Komaeda practically sang, turning away to put a cup on the delivery counter.
Hajime rolled his eyes. He noticed the line by the cashier had grown to a few people. Hajime slid up to the machine taking the orders.
“Oh hey Hinata, I didn’t you had a shift today,” a soft and familiar voice reached his ears.
“I didn’t. It’s a favor from Kazuichi,” Hajime said.
“Oh really? I would take up the favor too if my coworker looked like that. What a shame I don’t swing that way,” Chiaki teased before ordering the most disgusting black coffee Hajime has ever heard of.
“Shut up Chiaki,” He hissed under his breath before returning to work.
The rest of the work period went by much more quickly. Both boys sighed, leaning against the counters for support.
“Finally, this hell is over,” Komaeda sighed, wiping his brow.
“I know right? I feel like I can finally breathe again,” Hajime laughed warily.
“I need a coffee after that.”
“I don’t think I can stand anything coffee related anymore.”
“Your loss,” Komaeda shrugged, running the machine once again.
Emptying the coffee into a paper cup, Komaeda proceeded to pour what appeared to be half the creamer into it.
“Do you always put so much creamer in your coffee?” Hajime asked.
“Do you always drink dirt with your coffee?” Komaeda shot back playfully.
“Gross.”
Mr. Manager crept out of his cave for the first time since either of the boys got there. He stumbled his way to the exit, slow and sluggish. Was he drunk?
“Good job you guys. You may close early. Komaeda, dishwasher duty,” He announced before leaving.
“Oh come on, he’s totally targeting you!” Hajime pointed out.
“I caught on,” Komaeda shrugged, turning the tap on.
“He’s not allowed to do that!”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind. I kind of like washing dishes anyways. It’s a mindless activity, and the water is always nice and warm,” Komaeda said, pumping soap onto a rag.
“Alright, but I’m telling you, you don’t need to put up with that. I’ll help,” Hajime grabbed a few dishes and began to lather them in soap.
It was quiet work, the only sounds being the running water and clanking of dishes. At one point Komaeda’s hand was brushed by Hajime's. It was unusually cold.
“Sorry,” Komaeda sighed.
“You would think the embarrassment of physical contact would go away after the rush hour we just had,” Hajime laughed, stacking the dishes to dry.
“It’s still rude,” Komaeda defended, draining the basin.
“I don’t think so. As long as it isn’t intentional.”
“Fair enough. That’s It I think. I’m going home now, have a nice day,” The white-haired boy waved goodbye over his shoulder as he walked away.
“You too,” Hajime waved after him.
The building was silent besides the ringing bell echoing in his ears.
“There’s no way. This is the third day in a row. I’m not even covering today!” Hajime said, ringing up the cashier.
“You better believe it. I’ve never worked on a weekend, so this will be new,” Komaeda said, sliding the apron over his head and around his waist.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s always painfully slow. Try not to fall asleep and you’ll be fine,” Hajime explained, watching a middle-aged lady approach the counter.
“May I get a decaf, soy latte, with two shots of espresso, and cream,” the lady ordered, saying it just fast enough for him to comprehend.
“Sure thing, mam.”
After the lady left with her order Komaeda lightly coughed. “Two shots of Vodka,” he said under his breath.
“No kidding. This happens all the time. It’s like weekends attract all the moms with oddly specific drink orders.”
“That doesn't seem like an issue since it’s so slow.”
“I guess. At least someone’s here to share the pain with me,” Hajime jested.
“I’d share the pain of a slow day with you anytime, my good sir,” Komaeda bowed dramatically.
“I’d share the horrors of rush hour with you any day, fair lad,” Hajime draped himself over the coffee machine. His heart fluttered oddly.
Huh, that’s weird.
“Fair lad? That’s not a thing,” Komaeda pointed out.
“Yes, it is. If you can have a fair lady, then you can have a fair lad!” Hajime defended his statement with a smile on his face.
“So you’re calling me a fair lady.”
“The fairest of them all,” He said with an air of mock flirtation.
“Oh my, I am flattered,” The taller cooed, dramatically swooning.
“As you should be.”
“How may I repay your kindness?”
Before Hajime could stop himself his mouth ran with a rushed, “How does a date sound?”
“A… date?” Komeda's eye’s widened in shock.
“Unless you don’t want to! I’m sorry if I read this wrong and you don’t like guys, or you’re just not interested!” Hajime waved his hands, his face flushing in embarrassment.
“No, no it’s fine. Yeah, I’m gay. I just didn’t think you liked guys or were into me.” Komeda itched his neck, avoiding Hajime's gaze.
“Oh, I am definitely into you. So would you like to go to the movies?"
“Our shift’s almost over. What movie were you thinking?”
“Cats,” Hajime said, a smile forming on his lips.
“Ew, that’s horrible. Let's watch it,” Komaeda took his apron off, and opened the door for Hajime.
What a gentleman.
“This is the worst movie I’ve ever seen,” Komaeda leaned over to whisper.
They were about halfway through the movie and it was, to say the least, an experience. “I know right? I swear this movie is about a cult,” Hajime said, jabbing a gummy-worm at the large screen.
“I could see that,” Komaeda tapped his chin as if in thought.
Hajime got hit with the sudden realization of just how beautiful Komaeda was. He wasn’t pretty in the ways they advertise on-screen or on magazine covers. No, he was flawed. With charcoal dark eyebags, chapped bleeding lips, sickly and nearly translucent skin, and a thin, bony structure. But he was still beautiful. His hair was fluffy and had a sheen, sitting at his shoulders like frayed yarn. His eyes were green like stained glass, relaxed and glossy, framed by long, white lashes. Hajime thought it almost looked like he was crying.
The light flickering off the screen illuminated only one half of Komaeda’s face. Hajime would have felt afraid if he knew the other wouldn’t hurt him. “Hey, you’re really pretty.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he even processed them.
“I wouldn’t say that. Not compared to you at least,” Komaeda looked away, a light pink dusting his face.
“Don’t say that,” Hajime cupped the boy’s cheek and directed Komaeda to look at him.
“It’s true.”
“You should learn to accept a compliment when it's genuine,” Hajime whispered leaning in.
Their lips met, briefly. Pressure met from both sides. “Let’s leave, this movie is horrible,” Hajime suggested.
“Agreed.”
Komaeda ended up leading him out of the theater and down the road, past a park. He stopped at a chainlink fence, hooking his boot into the holes and lifting himself over the side. Hajime struggled to get an even hold but made it over eventually. They stood in what looked to be an abandoned soccer field. The grass was overgrown, and weeds brushed by their shins. One of the floodlights was humming and flickering.
“Really? We ditch a movie to come to an abandoned sports field?” Hajime crossed his arms, leaning against the fence.
“Yes, the most romantic place you will ever grace your eyes on!” Komaeda spun in a circle, his arms outstretched to either side.
“Absolutely not, this place looks like a shit-hole,” he said truthfully, looking to the overcast sky that was growing dark with the setting sun.
“Hey! That’s so mean! What did the field do to you?” Komaeda fake-pouted, joining the other on the fence.
Hajime struggled to hide his smile. “Nothing! Nothing besides being overgrown and unkept.”
Komaeda walked towards the center of the field, forcing Hajime to follow. “Hajime, what do you think of the sky?”
“The sky? Well, it’s unpredictable. People try to predict what the weather is each day, but no one has certainty over what will occur. It may rain, it may be windy, or it could be a bright and sunny day. It does what it wants and we have no control over it, and our lives are molded by that,” Hajime rambled as Komaeda sat in the tall weeds.
“That’s wise of you. What would happen if the sky were to fall? Everything you once knew crumbles around you. Nothing to be the same again?” the thin boy asked, picking at the grass.
“Well, settle in your new world. Look for a new sense of the sky, even if it’s just the direction up. Why do you ask?” No response. “Are you okay?”
“Hinata, my life is one misfortune after the other. I’ve had sky after sky fall. My parents are dead, I have no living relatives I know of, I’ve been kidnapped and beaten. I’m sick. In the head and my body. Every time something terrible happens, something good happens in turn. I have a fortune at my fingertips and I’m not dead, no matter how many times I try. My sickness won’t kill me, it’ll just break me down to the point of no return. And now I have you…” Komaeda took a shaky breath and sobbed, his hands clutching at his hair, “Hinata, what do I do if something happens to you?”
Hajime took a moment to sit next to Komaeda. “Nothing will happen to me. I’ll be okay. I’ll be here for you, even if you are deteriorating. I don’t know much besides what you’ve just told me, but… I’ll do everything in my abilities to at least be there. A hand on your shoulder.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” Komeadea’s head leaned on his shoulder, hair tickling his neck.
“Nothing. You did nothing. I am not something to be deserved. Relationships are formed, not earned” Hajime said, rain beginning to pour around them.
A set of lips, cold and chapped, pressed against his. He kissed back, as they pressed against each other. Komeda's lips parted and Hajime took the opportunity. His tongue glided over the other's bottom lip and traced the edge of his teeth. Komaeda sighed, licking the inside-corner of Hajime’s cheek. They stayed like that, in the rain, chasing each other's tongues.
Hajime pulled away, a string of saliva connecting them. “We should go home, it’s getting late.
“Yeah,” Komaeda breathed, leaning his forehead on Hajime’s collar.
Komaeda let Hajime guide him over the fence, past the park, and back to the theater parking lot. Getting into Hajime’s car, they drove to the small apartment complex where Komaeda lived. If Komaeda had a fortune, why did he live here? They were nice apartments, but still.
Hajime walked the taller male to his door, out of politeness. “Thank you, Hinata. This was very fun, we should do it again,” Komaeda said, unlocking his door.
“Yeah, I agree. Here, hand me your phone,” Hajime took the other’s phone when it was handed to him. “Now you can text me.”
“That sounds great,” Komaeda turned halfway before seemingly changing his mind. “Uh, by the way. You can call me Nagito. Only if you feel like it though.”
“You should call me Hajime in that case. Good night. You should go to sleep,” He suggested.
“Will do. Good night Hajime.”
“Good night Nagito.”
Organga: Lmao, so I have a bf now?
GamerGurl: is it that coworker?
Organga: Yea
GamerGurl: bruh