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"I still feel like the cat ears are a bit much," Kuroo says.
"Yes, we know," Yaku says dismissively, pouring two shots of espresso into a glass of milk and reaching past him to place it on the countertop, "given that that's the eleventh time you've said that in two hours. But, as I've already told you the past ten times, Kai says it's a direct order from the owners. So unless you feel like getting fired" – he grabs Kuroo's hand and slaps a lemon-yellow paw-shaped plate into it – "suck it up, stop complaining and fetch the damn croissant already."
Kuroo takes the plate grumpily and yanks open the pastry display case. Reaching into it with a pair of tongs and extracting a croissant as carefully as possible so as not to knock off any of its elaborate decorations, he mutters petulantly, "Why don't you make the new kid do it?"
Lev perks up from the sink, waving his rubber-gloved hands at them enthusiastically. He, too, has on a headband adorned with a pair of felt ears in the same pearly grey as his hair. "What is it? I can do it! If someone else just—"
"The 'new kid' is busy washing the dishes," Yaku says loudly, drowning him out, "and will not be allowed to touch the tongs until his lizard brain understands the concept of controlling his grip strength around pastries. Number twenty-seven, I have your iced latte and croissant!"
While Lev forlornly plunges his hands back into the soapy water and gets back to scrubbing, Kuroo grabs a dishcloth to wipe down the benchtop underneath the espresso machine. "Maybe I should just quit and go work at the Hoot. I bet Akaashi wouldn't make me dress like an owl."
Hoot & Feather is the owl cafe next door, opened and run by the almost-aggravatingly capable Akaashi and impossibly high-energy Bokuto (who, incidentally, may just be the most obnoxiously sweet couple to have ever graced God's green earth). The whole place is decorated to the nines to resemble some kind of fairytale woodland and screams 'wholesome' and 'pure' in a way that could not be more perfectly befitting of its owners.
"I bet Akaashi wouldn't hire you, since you do more bitching than actual working," Yaku says, meanly, and Kuroo swats at him with the dishcloth. "Ow – and you bully your co-workers—"
"Um… excuse me?"
They both whirl around to face the counter, Yaku wiping away a few stray droplets of dishwater from his cheek, Kuroo straightening his apron hastily. "Hi!" Yaku chirps, any trace of derision cleanly polished off his face in an instant. "Welcome to Nekoffee!"
Kuroo pastes a smile on his own face and looks up from his apron to greet the customer too, lest Yaku find yet another reason to give him an earful, and immediately double-takes. The guy standing across the counter is tiny – an impression only emphasised by the fact that he's completely swallowed in a huge maroon hoodie, the sleeves of which barely let his delicate fingers poke through. The ends of his dark hair are shabbily bleached a stark straw-yellow and fall over his face, half obscuring one of his large amber eyes, which blink pensively once at Yaku and then swivel to land on Kuroo.
Oh my God. He looks like he'd fit right in with the kitties they have in the next room. Adorable.
Shoving Yaku out of the way with a well-placed elbow to the gut, Kuroo slides across the counter slightly so he's directly in front of the customer, leaning forward and propping his chin in his hand. The customer blinks again and takes a hesitant half-step away from the counter. "Hello," says Kuroo, hoping his smile right now isn't too big. His smile right now is definitely too big, isn't it? "Were you just after an hour for one?"
"An… hour?" A perplexed crease furrows Kitten Guy's brow. "I was just after… a coffee…"
"Ah, so this is actually a cat cafe," Yaku says, having regained his balance. His voice is still perfectly cordial despite the fact that he's stomped down hard on Kuroo's right foot and is currently mashing it zealously into the floor. "You pay for entry per person, get a complimentary drink and snack, and then you can go into the next room through that door over there and play with the cats."
Kitten Guy gives a barely audible sigh. "Okay. Is there… anywhere else to get a coffee near here?"
"Er," says Yaku, glancing at Kuroo. Kuroo just shrugs unhelpfully and is rewarded with an on-brand nasty look. Apparently recognising there's no point trying to get any assistance from Kuroo, Yaku tries, "Maybe next door? Hoot & Feather?"
"The owl one?" Kitten Guy says, blanching so visibly that Kuroo almost laughs. "No, thank you. And please don't suggest the place across the street. I – um – I already tried… there."
"The place across the street…" Yaku echoes, and this time Kuroo actually does laugh, cackling at the mental image of this slightly rumpled, weary-looking guy innocently stepping into The Blue Castle butler café for 'just a coffee' and then bolting in alarm upon discovering its actual concept.
"Holy shit," Kuroo chortles, earning him another pointedly dirty look from Yaku. "Isn't Oikawa on shift right now?"
"I don't know, why don't you walk out and check if you're so curious?" Yaku snaps, and then turns back to Kitten Guy, saying apologetically, "Most of the cafes on this block are themed, sorry. Look, if you just need somewhere quiet to spend your lunch break or something, you could just book an hour and chill inside while you eat. You don't have to pet the cats. You're not allergic or anything, right?"
Kitten Guy seems to consider the question warily before murmuring, "…No."
"Okay, cool! So?" Yaku moves towards the register. "Should I key in an hour?"
Amber eyes flicker towards Kuroo again, and then dart away skittishly. Kitten Guy nods mutely and Yaku beams at him. "Okay – done! So what can I get for you? A coffee, right?"
"Just a cold brew. Thanks."
"Easy!"
"And we'll need your name for that," Kuroo says quickly, as Kitten Guy starts shuffling away to wait by the window. "To call you when it's ready."
Yaku shoots him a suspicious glare, which Kuroo studiously ignores – do first, apologise to Yaku later, right? He keeps his eyes fixed on Kitten Guy instead as he glances over his shoulder. "It's Kenma," he says impassively, and then continues shuffling away seemingly unconcerned.
Pouring cold brew into a glass over a neat sphere of ice and placing it on a miniature wooden tray, Yaku leans over and hisses at Kuroo. "What are you doing? He's literally the only one waiting for anything right now. And we just call their receipt numbers, we don't need their names."
"Speak for yourself," Kuroo hisses back. "Some of us do need their names, actually." He pulls a freshly dried paw plate off the rack and, with all the nonchalance he can humanly muster, puts a braided apple danish on it and adds it to the wooden tray. Yaku's eyebrows immediately shoot up into his hairline.
"You're not smooth," he tells Kuroo matter-of-factly, "if that's what you think you're being."
"And you're not half as scary, with those on," Kuroo snipes, nodding in the direction of Yaku's fawny felt ears. "So if you could chill it with the judgement, thanks." And before the other can retort, he eases into his chipper customer service voice: "Kenma? Your order's ready!"
Kitten Guy – Kenma – is totally engrossed in his phone by the window, but he starts slightly and looks up at the sound of his name. As he approaches the counter a tiny frown forms on his face. "…That's not mine."
"Well," Kuroo says, making a show of looking around the empty waiting area while Yaku non-too-discreetly rolls his eyes. Kuroo meets Kenma's eyes again and offers him a what he hopes is a cheeky and not a leering smile. "Hm. Looks like it might be yours after all."
Kenma unexpectedly holds his eyes unwaveringly, and Kuroo feels heat rising in his face as he waits for a reply, batting away all of the second thoughts he's already having about this. The reply that eventually comes is this: "But I didn't order a pastry."
Feeling somewhat embarrassed under that golden gaze and mulish insistence on not taking the hint, Kuroo tries very hard to ignore the growing amusement emanating from Yaku, who is standing a little way away with his arms folded and observing the interaction with a kind of vague half-disapproval, half-interest. "Oh," Kuroo blusters, the relaxed facade (which he was barely keeping up as is) now slipping in earnest. "Well! I just thought you looked like you wanted something to eat. W-wait, I'm not trying to say you need to put on weight or anything. Just that, um, you looked tired. No – wait – you don't look tired, you seem kind of tired – so I – oh God—"
Just end him already. Seriously – if anyone wants to just put him out of his misery right now, he'll happily climb into his grave, with the cat ears on and everything. So this is what he gets for attempting to flirt properly for once in his cursed life, huh? The universe may as well have plastered a gigantic "You Tried" sticker on his forehead instead. He glances desperately over at Yaku, trying to signal for help with his eyes alone, and gets two smug thumbs up in response. For fuck's sake.
"Everything's been washed and nothing's been broken!" From behind them, Lev's proud declaration comes like an angel song, and Kuroo thinks he could kiss him right now. "What should I do next, Yaku? Should we wipe everything down again?"
Yaku silences him with a withering glare. "Read the room, Lev. I'm clearly busy watching Kuroo self-destruct right now."
"Wait – huh? Self-destruct?" Lev bounces over to stand next to Yaku and Kuroo resentfully takes back his willingness to kiss him. "Why is he self-destructing? Did he give out a wrong order?"
"Yes," Kenma says without looking at them, and Kuroo deeply wants to die, but he still says stoutly, "No." May as well commit at this point, right?
At this, Kenma tilts his head to one side and observes him coolly, still making no move to take the tray. "Okay. So are you giving me the danish?"
Surely he's doing this on purpose. "Yeah," mutters Kuroo.
"For free?"
He closes his eyes briefly, feeling the heat in his face spread to his ears. "…Yeah."
Kenma blinks again, a painstakingly slow drag of his lashes that seems to extend the length of the very second in which it happens. Then, in that same inscrutable tone, he says, "Why?"
Lev gasps dramatically from his spot beside Yaku. Yaku – who is seriously testing their friendship at this point – starts laughing. The traitor. Kuroo doesn't need a mirror to know that he's probably the colour of a pomegranate right now; the heat fluttering in his cheeks very clearly delivers that point to him, and is probably – kindly enough – delivering it to Kenma too. He needs to say some actual, proper, normal words, as soon as fucking possible; if he leaves it another beat longer, that'll be incriminating in its own right. His only real chance to do damage control is by saying something right now. Preferably something very Smooth and Cool. But what exactly?
(The one thought that has decided to grace Kuroo's fried brain with its presence is incredibly unhelpful: it is currently egging him on to say something along the lines of 'because you look like a kitten'.)
"Um," Kuroo flounders, mostly in an attempt to block that train of thought from actually leaving his mouth. The problem is, of course, that he doesn't have a good follow-up prepared. Great. "Do you," he says, stalling, "Well – I was thinking… that… uh." That you would look cute in cat ears, pipes up the same Unhelpful Thought from earlier, and no. No fucking way is he saying that. What he says instead, before he even really comprehends his own words, is this: "…Do you maybe want to work for us?"
Kenma stares.
Yaku and Lev stare.
Kuroo squirms.
"…No," says Kenma. He gingerly picks up the tray – danish and all – and then turns around without another word and walks placidly through the side door into the Cat Room.
The door swings shut behind him. In the silence that follows, Lev looks furtively between the two of them before his sense of self-preservation seems to finally kick in and he busies himself with the cash register at the farthest end of the counter. With an uncannily certain sense of dread, Kuroo turns slowly around to face Yaku; the shift manager is still standing watching him with his arms gleefully folded, looking, quite literally, like the cat that got the canary.
"Boosting employment rates? Nice," Yaku says, grinning. "Stimulating the economy and everything – ugh, Kuroo, you Casanova. The rest of us could never."
"You," Kuroo informs him matter-of-factly, balling up the dishcloth in his hands to hurl at him, "are dead to me. You hear? Dead to me."
The sound of Yaku's self-satisfied cackling echoes in the empty waiting area as he embarks on his indignant march to the bathroom to go and kick himself in private.
pspspsps: so
pspspsps: tried to ask out cute guy @ cafe, accidentally offered him a job instead
pspspsps: (he said no)
pspspsps: on a scale of 'maybe he found it endearing' to 'he's already texting his friends about the clown he met while on his lunch break today'
pspspsps: how salvageable is this situation
bling bling motherfucker: ???
bling bling motherfucker: ????????????????
pspspsps: i just wanted to try being suave for like ONCE in my life ok?? let me live
pspspsps: …ok i can hear you judging me from across the street oikawa i swear to god
bling bling motherfucker: i didn't say anything (◕‿◕✿)
24/7 akaashi simp: WAIT WHAT
24/7 akaashi simp: WHY DID YOU OFFER HIM A JOB
bling bling motherfucker: bc he straight up combusts whenever a convo he's imagined in his head doesn't play out the way he thought
bling bling motherfucker: i bet u had this whole plan for how ur 'suave' moment was gonna go
bling bling motherfucker: like an entire barista AU that ended with this guy leaving u his # on a receipt or something
bling bling motherfucker: and then something went ~ s l i g h t l y ~ wrong
bling bling motherfucker: so then u just said the first thing u thought of
bling bling motherfucker: …but like
bling bling motherfucker: just a guess ahah xoxo
pspspsps: siri set reminder i hate oikawa tooru repeat everyday
bling bling motherfucker: lmaooooooo
bling bling motherfucker: ding ding dingggg
24/7 akaashi simp: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
24/7 akaashi simp: KUROO my man pull yourself TOGETHER
pspspsps: OK WE GET IT IM AWKWARD & SUCK can we get some actually productive thoughts in here please
24/7 akaashi simp: OK SO i just asked akaashi
pspspsps: whoaaaa no way you asked AKAASHI ????
bling bling motherfucker: No One Could Have Expected This !
24/7 akaashi simp: DO YOU GUYS WANT TO HEAR IT OR NOT
24/7 akaashi simp: ok thank you very much
24/7 akaashi simp: he says it's very okay, you just have to go & tell him that you got shy because you think he's cute & that you would actually really like his number, not a new employee!!!
bling bling motherfucker: he's not gonna do that
pspspsps: i'm not gonna do that
pspspsps: wtf shut the fuck up oikawa
bling bling motherfucker: ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ
24/7 akaashi simp: WAIT but why not?????? i feel like it's a good idea???
bling bling motherfucker: mmhm it is ! that's why he's not gonna do it
pspspsps: @oikawa i'm THIS close to cancelling you. THIN ice
pspspsps: @bokuto tell akaashi thank you very very much for the lovely suggestion but
pspspsps: i am like
pspspsps: physically incapable of saying that
bling bling motherfucker: this is what u get for trying to be smooth, chalk it up to experience & maybe ask me for some tips in advance next time x
24/7 akaashi simp: HUH i thought you said you haven't gotten Hot Delivery Guy's number yet :O
bling bling motherfucker: OKAY WE WERE NOT
bling bling motherfucker: talking about me
bling bling motherfucker: …kuroo ♡
bling bling motherfucker: my sweet stupid friend ♡♡
bling bling motherfucker: either give up on it or ask him out properly. just DON'T do anything stupid bc i am not sure i can handle any more secondhand embarrassment today ♡♡♡♡♡
24/7 akaashi simp: YOU CAN DO IT KUROO!!!!!!
"Oi. I know you're texting in there. Not even you take dumps for this long."
Disgruntled, Kuroo unlocks the door to the staff bathroom and comes face to face with Yaku. Yaku says solemnly, "Done with your crisis?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Kuroo says loftily, pushing past him. Yaku follows him back to the counter, where Lev's carefully punching in an hour for a giggly group of three with a look of intense concentration on his face. Kuroo starts preparing plates for their food while Yaku just kind of hovers by him with that same dumb smirk still on his face.
"Um, can I help you?" Kuroo snipes at him eventually.
Yaku's smirk widens minutely. "You were in the bathroom for a pretty long time."
"Yeah, so you say."
"Probably enough time to finish drinking a cold brew, or eating an apple danish…" Yaku takes the order receipt Lev passes him and glances at it, leaning over to grab three fresh cups. "…or something."
Kuroo stares at him in slight incredulity as comprehension slowly dawns. "Hang on. Are you… helping me?"
Yaku shrugs airily. "Maybe I'm just a really nice person. Or maybe I feel, like, the tiniest bit bad about laughing so hard before. The world will never know." He starts frothing milk, but briefly glances up to quirk an eyebrow at Kuroo. "So? Are you gonna go or not?"
He hesitates only briefly before ducking past Lev to snatch up an empty tray and then heads straight for the door with it in hand. Okay, so – a lifeline – thrown by a rather, er, unexpected source, but a lifeline nonetheless – he has to make this work. Partially so he can rub it in Oikawa's face, yes. But primarily because Kenma is hands down the cutest customer Kuroo's encountered in the five months he's been working at Nekoffee.
Kenma's seated near the large glass window that overlooks the bustling street below; Blue Castle's vibrantly mint facade peeks in from one edge. He's sipping quietly at the last of his cold brew, typing rapidly on his phone and warily eyeing Mimi the ragdoll, who seems particularly fascinated by his shoes. Kuroo gathers his wits about him and then strolls over as confidently as he can manage in these… trying circumstances.
"Are you done with that?" he says, leaning over Kenma's shoulder from behind.
Startled, Kenma jumps a little. He swiftly turns his phone off so the screen goes black – but not before Kuroo catches a glimpse of a Messenger conversation on it that he's ninety-nine percent sure included a photo of a certain apple danish on a paw-shaped plate. Okay, he could take that two different ways. But which is it?
"Yeah, I am. Thanks." Kenma puts his empty glass and plate onto the tray in Kuroo's hands. Kuroo glances down at the plate.
"How was it?" he dares to ask.
Leaning down to very carefully pat Mimi on the head, Kenma's eyes flicker up to meet Kuroo's briefly as he gives him a tiny smile. "…Good."
"Then come work for us," Kuroo says, before he can stop himself, and immediately pummels himself mentally with a string of curses. It was the smile, he thinks a little helplessly. The smile disarmed him. Otherwise he would've been totally slick. Totally.
Kenma looks up at him again, straightening in his seat. Mimi winds herself around his ankle, purring, and Kuroo is not envious of her right now, nope, because that would be incredibly lame. "I already have a job," Kenma says. "I just started at the game store down the street. Hence the lunch break."
"But," says Kuroo, because he just honestly doesn't know how to shut up, "but working here is. Better."
"Um. I'm… not so sure about that." Kenma purses his lips and gestures to an invisible pair of cat ears at the top of his own head. "The game store doesn't make me wear… those."
Kuroo's face flames as he remembers, for the umpteenth time that day, how much he despises this new dress code. "I think you'd fit right in," he says stoically.
The corners of Kenma's mouth flick up into another one of those muted, private smiles. Before he can answer, an alarm goes off on his phone. They both look at it.
"Ah, that's my lunch break done," says Kenma, getting to his feet.
Kuroo starts, glancing at the wall clock. "You haven't even used up your hour yet."
"I don't mind. I have to go back to work." Stretching a little, Kenma steps past Kuroo and heads for the door. Just as Kuroo is starting to panic over the fact that he's literally made zero progress and the guy's about to leave for good, Kenma pauses with his hand on the doorknob, glancing over his shoulder.
"See you tomorrow," he says, and then he is gone.
True to his word, Kenma returns at the same time the following day. But this time he's not alone.
"I thought you said this was a cat cafe! Where are the cats?!"
"They don't keep them in the same place they make the food, Shouyou. I told you, you have to go into a separate room."
"Oh!" Kenma's orange companion – there is genuinely no better way to describe him – stops his excited prowl around the room and comes to rejoin Kenma at the counter. "That's really smart."
"It's just… basic hygiene," Kenma begins to say, but seems to decide that it's pointless to explain any further. Shaking his head a little, he instead turns to face Kuroo again, meeting his eyes with a slightly exasperated expression and handing over his card. "…An hour for us both, please. He'll have a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin."
"And you?" Kuroo prompts.
"Cold brew," says Kenma, "and an apple danish."
Kuroo fumbles with his card. Hastily handing it back over to Kenma before he drops it, he tries his very hardest not to read into things. It's a lunch order, he tells himself firmly. It's not that deep.
"A cold brew and a hot chocolate," he calls over to Yaku instead, and gets a meaningful wink in response. Kuroo ignores it pointedly and goes to fetch the pastries.
Glancing over at Kenma and Hinata as he pulls two plates from the drying rack, he asks casually, "So. Do you guys work together?"
"Nope!" pipes up Orange. "I just came to visit him at his new job."
In his periphery, Kuroo sees Yaku look up curiously from the coffee machine at this new information. Is it too obvious, Kuroo finds himself wondering, if he probes by saying something like, 'wow, you guys must be really good friends'?
He only realises he's been standing silently, lost in his thoughts without a word of response to Orange, when Yaku swoops in to break up the awkward lull himself. "You've probably already heard about how Kuroo here offered up a job yesterday," he says conspiratorially. "Not that he has any authority to do that, obviously."
"I have the authority to suggest that people apply," Kuroo snaps. Thanks for nothing, as always, Yaku.
Orange is laughing, and Kuroo narrows his eyes at the way Kenma's expression softens into something fond at the bright, bubbly sound. Since when did they start making people so blindingly sunny? This guy could revive a dead plant with his perkiness alone. "You don't want Kenma to work here!" he giggles. "He's not good with animals."
Kenma coughs slightly and throws him a reproachful look. "It's not like I hate them or anything."
"No, no, I know! They're just, like, weirdly suspicious of you all the time. Maybe because they can sense that you're suspicious of them?"
"Shut up," mumbles Kenma, the very tops of his cheeks turning a barely noticeable shade of pink. "And I'm not. I can get along with animals. Cats are… nicer, anyway. Than all the other ones."
Orange nudges him, face splitting into a wide grin as Kenma stumbles a little from the impact. "Oh, yeah? So you agree with me now? They're cute, aren't they?" When Kenma doesn't reply, examining his shoes wordlessly, Orange instead turns his radiant grin onto Kuroo and Yaku. "I made him bring me here today."
This is the exact exchange that Kuroo recounts to his Emergency Committee later when they've all gathered at the Hoot after his shift. Yaku has bailed, claiming he has to hear enough about it when they're at work already, but did leave Kuroo with an ever-so-reassuring pat on the shoulder and a, "Well, at least he came back, right?"
"Okay," announces Bokuto now, gravely. "I've reached my conclusion after hearing everything. Kenma and Orange could be dating… or they could be really good friends." He says this with utmost sincerity, earning him a snort from Oikawa and an endeared smile from Akaashi.
"Yes, thank you for that contribution," quips Oikawa snidely. He's still fully kitted out in his Blue Castle suit, pearly gloves and all, ready to head back as soon as his afternoon coffee break finishes. He is also in a spectacularly foul mood because he happened to be in the bathroom when Hot Delivery Guy came to drop off that morning's supplies, so Kunimi 'got to watch those biceps unloading all the boxes instead, the lucky bastard' (his words, not Kunimi's).
"This is not helping," says Kuroo forlornly.
"Well, it's just not a lot of information to go off," Akaashi steps in, his voice consoling. "We wouldn't want to jump to conclusions and throw you off unnecessarily."
Stirring his milkshake with the stripy straw Akaashi's put in it for him, Oikawa hums maddeningly and says, "So what I'm hearing is… you think they might be dating."
Kuroo buries his face in his hands and gives a muffled groan.
"I didn't say that," Akaashi sighs. "Kuroo. The fact that he came back at least means he wasn't put off by – er – yesterday's events, so this definitely isn't a dead end."
Looking up from his hands, Kuroo says readily, "Okay. So then what do I do now?"
"Stop offering him a job," says Oikawa.
"Ask him out properly when he comes tomorrow?" Bokuto suggests.
"But I'm not on shift tomorrow."
Looking thoughtful, Akaashi cuts in. "Didn't you say he started working at the gaming goods place down the street?"
Kuroo nods.
"If it makes you feel embarrassed or awkward to have to flirt with him while you're at work with your coworkers right next to you and the new… get-up, why don't you just go to him? It's not like it's information you dug up or anything. He told you himself."
Bokuto's face brightens and he wraps both his arms around Akaashi's waist from where he's standing behind him, cooing. "My boyfriend is so smart!"
"Okay, firstly, that's making me depressed, so stop," Oikawa says flatly, before turning back to Kuroo. "But honestly, it's not a bad idea. When do you finish at uni tomorrow?"
"I only have two lectures in the morning. I guess I could go straight after…"
Akaashi nods, absentmindedly patting at one of Bokuto's arms, which are still clinging to him. "You even know when his lunch break is, so as long as you avoid that half an hour window, he should be there."
The fact that they're discussing actual logistics makes the reality of the plan finally sink in. "Damn," Kuroo says, a little faintly, leaning back in his chair. "Am I seriously going on a mission to flirt with a cute stranger at work? Me?" He's always liked to think he could do it he wanted to, but the few other times he's entertained the notion, he's invariably chickened out at the last second. And – if he's being really honest – none of the other cute strangers he's met have made him feel this invested in actually asking them out. "I kind of can't believe I'm doing this."
"I personally will be refraining from believing it until you actually do it," Oikawa informs him, and is rewarded with clean smack on the head.
1.32pm the following day finds Kuroo Tetsurou back at the end of the all-too-familiar street, this time free of an apron and, blessedly, cat ears. He's been standing dodgily on the corner across from the game store for well over ten minutes now, trying desperately to stop his hands from sweating so damn much. He can't even see inside properly from here – for all he knows, Kenma's not even at work today. Yeah. This entire hyping-up process might end up being pointless, so he may as well just suck it up, march inside, and—
"…Kuroo?"
Kuroo nearly leaps straight out of his skin, making a strangled noise of surprise as he whirls around in a rush. "K-Kenma! Why – what are you doing there—?"
"Getting back from my lunch break," Kenma says, blinking up at him.
"Doesn't your lunch break end at one?!"
"I took it late today."
"Oh – you – you took it late today… right." And then, with a start, admittedly a bit late: "Wait, how do you know my name?"
Kenma squints at him a little, as though he's being deliberately dense. "You have a nametag on your apron."
Ah. True. But still. "You remembered it?"
"It was pretty hard to forget, considering you offered me a job," Kenma points out. "Twice."
"I'm pretty sure it was three times," says Kuroo, a little sheepishly, and Kenma gives him the faintest hint of a smile. As the initial bewilderment of having run into him unexpectedly fades and his senses return to normal, Kuroo realises (with what feels like a physical blow to his stomach) that today Kenma has his hair swept up and tied somewhat carelessly with a worn scrunchie, revealing the sides of his face and – Kuroo gulps – a scattering of tiny studs and piercings on his ears. Oh my God. He's been cute from the start, but today he looks especially pretty. Maybe it's the way the early afternoon light is hitting their street corner and casting Kenma's eyes a deep honey, or the fact that he's swimming in another huge hoodie today, or the sweep of his hand across his own cheek as he tucks a flyaway behind one (pierced!!!!!) ear – it's, um, it's hard to say. But it is unquestionably making him feel some kind of way. Kuroo is dazedly reminding himself to breathe when he feels Kenma's gaze drop curiously to the blush-pink box hanging from his hand.
"Oh, right!" Remembering it with a rush of relief and giving his past self a congratulatory pat on the shoulder, Kuroo pushes the box into Kenma's hands. "Apple danish. It's, um, not from our place, but. I heard this bakery is… good."
Kuroo basks in the momentary surprise that flickers across Kenma's usually impassive face as he clutches the box that's been thrust at him. "…Thanks."
"And I, uh, realise you've already had lunch," Kuroo says, "but I figured it can be an afternoon snack or something…"
"No, I," Kenma hesitates, and then smiles at him properly. "I'll have it as soon as I go in right now. I was… sort of craving one, anyway."
Delighted, and feeling like he's achieved what he wanted to today, Kuroo returns the smile and takes a backward step off the pavement. "Well. Um. I'll let you get back to work, then."
Kenma nods, letting his eyes linger on Kuroo a moment longer before he glances back down at the box in his hands with a slightly mystified look on his face. Kuroo leaves him to it and crosses the road to pop into Nekoffee – he figures he may as well go update Yaku on the situation in person now that he's here anyway.
Yaku looks particularly taken aback to see him, giving him a blank stare when he walks in. "What?" says Kuroo, dumping his textbooks ungracefully onto the countertop and giving a little wave to Inuoka, their other New Kid who is doing the customary New Kid dishwashing today. "I know I'm off today, but you don't have to look that shocked at seeing me. I've come here to hang out before."
"No, it's just," says Yaku, and then glances at the door as it swings shut behind Kuroo. "Your timing. It's… seriously terrible. You just missed Kenma."
"Hm?" The words take a moment to register. Once they do, he yelps, "Wait, what? Kenma had lunch here?"
"I mean, he has for the past two days in a row, so, yes, he was here today," Yaku says, wiping his hands on the front of his apron and then shifting to lean his weight onto the edge of the counter. "But you literally just missed him. And he asked about you, too. I was about to text."
"He what?"
Yaku rolls his eyes. "Okay, you're beginning to sound like an idiot. I'm not gonna repeat myself, so listen properly. Kenma came in at, like, one, noticed you weren't here, asked if you were around today, I said no, he has uni today. He said oh, okay, and then had his usual and left. Orange wasn't with him today, if you're wondering."
But he's not wondering. Kuroo's attention has latched completely onto what Yaku said just before that. "He… had his usual."
"Yep."
"Like – the cold brew…"
"Yep."
"…and an apple danish."
"Yes, Kuroo," Yaku says, clearly irritated. "The exact same thing he had yesterday, and the day before."
"But he said he…" Eyes widening, Kuroo gathers up his books hastily and steps away from the counter. "Hey. I'm gonna go."
"What?! You just got here! Aren't you gonna have a coffee or anything?"
"Later!" Kuroo calls back, already halfway out the door.
He heads straight back to the street corner, but this time barges unfalteringly into the game store he didn't even make it inside before. The bell hanging above the door jingles loudly and he sees Kenma look up from where he's sorting through a stack of video game cases behind the counter. Gold eyes widen minutely as he realises who it is.
"You were 'craving' one?" Kuroo says without any lead-in, even before he's finished approaching the counter. "You already had a danish. At ours. Right?"
Kenma doesn't say anything, but his eyes dart to the pink box sitting innocently open and distinctly empty beside the cash register.
"And you asked Yaku if I was there. I—" Flustered, Kuroo huffs out a nervous breath and then just steels himself goes for it. Honestly, at this point, none of this is going the way he imagined anyway; may as well throw all his plans to the wind. "Is it – are you interested in me? At all?"
Kenma's shoulders jump slightly at the sudden question, but he masks it with a noncommittal shrug, averting his gaze. "Are you?"
"I mean – yeah – obviously." He gives a slightly winded laugh. "Wasn't it?"
"I thought maybe, when you gave me the first danish," says Kenma, much more calmly than Kuroo. "And I was sort of guessing you'd ask me for my number. But afterwards you kept just telling me to work for you guys… so I wasn't sure. And then Shouyou made me bring him so he could see for himself, but he said he wasn't sure either… so then…"
Kuroo gapes at him. "Wait, so – are you telling me that if I'd just – straight up asked for your number that first time, you would've said yes?"
Kenma throws a pointed look over at the crumbed remnants of what Kuroo now knows is the second danish he's consumed in the past hour. Kuroo starts laughing in earnest. He can practically hear Oikawa yelling I told you so from down the street, and can't even find it in himself to feel annoyed.
"I'm pretty bad at stuff like this," he tells Kenma.
"Yeah," Kenma says, "I noticed."
He turns back to face Kuroo and catches his eye; they both break into slightly abashed smiles. A shy couple of seconds tick by, and then Kenma starts tugging the ends of his sleeves over his hands, watching Kuroo wordlessly, waiting. Oh, right. He should probably… say something. But it seems his sudden word spew has ended, and inspiration just isn't striking – it feels like he has to say something especially cute and romantic now, after all this unnecessary three-day build-up. Um. What was it Akaashi had told him to say again?! What was it Oikawa had told him not to say?
His mind blanks as Kenma lowers his face to hide his amusement at Kuroo's stalling, and then looks up at him expectantly through sunlight-dusted eyelashes.
"So," Kuroo blurts out unthinkingly, his heartbeat stuttering, "when are you gonna tell your boss that you're quitting?"