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Every Saturday, Shinsou prays that three hours of sleep are enough to get him through a seven-hour shift in the cafe, and it only barely is. He'll beg his coworkers to let him man both the register and the take-out orders, just so he doesn't have to wait tables. "I can't handle the human interaction" , is his airtight reasoning, "but I can try to handle making lattes." So he'll heat up pastries and try and remember impossibly elaborate orders, and won't question it anymore when, without a fault, Blond Boy comes in around the afternoon, all but skips over to the counter and orders himself a hot chocolate.
Blond Boy had first come in months ago, waving around this aura of positive energy and unconditional glee. Shinsou's brain had barely taken the time to process that it was looking at a pretty guy before he was being addressed.
"Hey! Is this cafe new? I don't think I've seen this place before."
"Yeah, we opened just a few weeks ago actually."
"Nice!" Thin blond eyebrows scrunched up, as the stranger looked at the drinks menu on the wall "Well, do you have any recommendations for drinks? Something real sweet?"
Strongly convinced the other looks like a disgustingly-childish-taste kinda guy, Shinsou suggested "The hot chocolates are pretty good, I'd go with that"
"Cool, I'll have one then, please.", the blond all but beamed, which Shinsou actively looked away from, quickly making the drink and handing it over. So started a routine both of them would grow accustomed to.
Every Saturday, Blond Boy will come in, order that same hot chocolate, throw the brightest smile Shinsou's way and sit down. At some point, the rehearsed interaction was making Shinsou so flustered, all with the other and his bad habit of being attractive and having a nice smile, that he just started preparing a hot chocolate whenever he saw a familiar head of blond hair entering the cafe. Unfortunately, this backfired completely, by making Blond Boy blush furiously the first few times he got to the counter and found his drink already waiting for him. Seeing his embarrassed little smile and hearing his honey voice chuckle and thank him profusely sent Shinsou into a crush-stricken high for the rest of the day.
Comfortably seated in the pink cushion of the window booth, Blond Boy looks adorable, slim form drowned in a seemingly endless amount of oversized sweaters and jackets. The black lightning bolt in his hair flies around when he laughs, his wide golden eyes all over the place. From all the way over behind the counter, Shinsou can't ever hear what Blond Boy is saying, but every now and then, he'll look up from his work and throw a glance his way, catching a glimpse of the boy's excited smile. He's beautiful. Looks beautiful, talks beautiful, smiles beautiful, nurses his cup of hot chocolate for the entire afternoon.
And always, always has company. A different someone, every week. A red-haired boy second week of February, then a girl with a fish quirk the week after, a boy with silver hair later, then a plain-faced kid with weird elbows, then a boy with multiple arms, then a girl with pink skin, and so on and so on. For a while, Shinsou didn't connect the dots and just assumed that Blond Boy had a million friends that he only exclusively hangs one-on-one with, but no. They're dates. Shinsou watches from the counter as Blond Boy laughs over an invisible kid's jokes, watches as he and another blond boy hold hands, watches as he talks to a bird for hours, watches as he shares a milkshake with a frog. If Blond Boy and his date of the week lean into each other and kiss, he makes a point of not looking. If the date leaves unusually early and Blond Boy looks upset, he makes a bigger point of trying not to care.
Regardless of how great or terrible the date goes, it's never the same person twice. Every now and then, the blond and his date will really hit it off, and the small part of Shinsou's brain that insists on keeping up with the stranger's love life will expect that same person to be back next week. That part of his brain is then (relieved) disappointed when the next Saturday would come around and, following the pattern, a new person would sit by the boy's side. He's used to it: Blond Boy will keep going on dates, and they'll keep not coming back. He doesn't care. Or so he tells himself.
This week, from behind a beat-up book, Shinsou's violet eyes glide over the shop. The clock only just striked six p.m and the sun is setting already. The cafe is wrapped up in the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of low chatter. It closes early on weekends, at eight, so he only has to get through a couple more hours and be free. Not so fast, though - the mental schedule he's only semi-aware he's been keeping says his Saturday shift isn't over until a certain someone has had his date.
Blond Boy sits in one of the few booths by the window, and the orange sunlight laying peaceful over it makes (him) his hair look golden. He's on his phone, and whatever he's reading has him pouting just enough to be noticeable. His large sweater's sleeves almost brush over his hot chocolate as he types away, looking more impatient by the minute. He's been there for a while (not that Shinsou had been paying attention, of course), and his date of the week is taking longer than usual to show up.
The thought stops Shinsou dead in his tracks. Blond Boy's been here for almost half an hour. Does he... not have a date today? It's Saturday. He should be having yet another simultaneous first and last date, but he's sitting there, alone, drinking his hot chocolate. Something swells in Shinsou's chest. Something that dances between pity and hope, disappointment and possibility. Something bold and brash and beautiful, telling him to go talk to him.
Something that takes control for just a second, enough for him to get up from his (safe) place behind the counter and almost take a step, only to freeze when he finds himself locking eyes with the other boy. Purple and golden stay still for a moment, eyes used to looking but not at each other, not at the same time. A moment, and another, unflinching and silent. Shinsou's wide surprised eyes and the blond's curious ones doing nothing more than look, both pondering saying something, lips minimally open.
Until the cafe door's bell calls their attention over to the newest arrival. What the fuck.
It's a day for the history books. A girl walks in, short purple hair, piercings all over, and long, too-long earlobes. The same girl that had been there last Saturday. The one that had sipped her tea and sat across from Blond Boy and been kissed by him in the cheek. She's back. It's a second date, for the first time, and a piece of Shinsou's heart hurts .
Shinsou does not care and is not looking , but they have a nice date. As soon as the girl arrived, Blond Boy had sighed deeply and smiled widely, like he hadn't actually expected for her to come in. She orders something from one of Shinsou's coworkers, sits down next to her date and Shinsou, again, does not care. When she and Blond Boy leave together a few hours later, he barely notices.
--//--
Seven days later
It's Saturday, and happiness and anxiety dilute in each other in Kaminari's heart. He has a third date, finally . The boy has a loose grasp on the intricacies of labels, but he's certain that after three dates, he gets to call Jirou his girlfriend. The anticipation has him all but shaking, making him take another sip of his hot chocolate to calm his nerves. He'd been so nervous for his second date with her, last week, especially when she texted saying she was going to be late - he worried she was going to stand him up, only to be ecstatic when she walked through the door. He was worrying over nothing, see? She likes him and he likes her. He's got a third date today to prove it.
He's so excited, he's barely paying attention to the hot barista over behind the counter. Usually, he'll watch the purple-haired boy work as he waits for his date to arrive. It's kind of relaxing, seeing him smoothly move back and forth, quickly mixing drinks and packing pastries. Not today, though - he's practically a taken man already, can't be crushing on cute baristas!
Instead, he looks out of the window next to his usual booth. He's got a good view of the street, so he looks and looks and waits for familiar dark grey eyes to hop out of a bus and look back. He's so excited to have a girlfriend, and Jirou is so nice and cool and funny and smart and pretty... he couldn't ask for more.
Well, he literally couldn't ask for more. It's not like he's got people lining his doorstep to date him, no matter how it may seem that way, what with the weekly dates he has. But having people willing to go out with him doesn't mean he's got people willing to stay after, to do it again. He's used to it. People find him funny and pretty, so he'll ask them out and they'll say " Yeah, sure" . They'll have a nice date and then it's nothing. "It was fun", ''You're really cool", "I had a good time", but. It doesn't matter, it's not a big deal. It might feel like a big deal sometimes, being in this limbo of having nothing to lose, so much love to win, and yet never getting it right. But he won't be in the limbo anymore, now that it's finally paid off. He's gonna have a third date. At last, after trying and failing, date after date, he's found the right person for him.
Now, if only she'd get there faster.
The sunset is gone and she's almost 30 minutes behind. No sign of her. It's not a big deal. He'd rather wait in silence, not wanting to seem desperate, but he's getting anxious. Already? God, you're so insecure it's pathetic. Kaminari texts her for the fifth time today.
[sparks]: heyy babee im here already!!
[sparks]: r u comjng?
[sparks]: coming?*
No response. Ok. It's not a big deal. It won't be a big deal if he doesn't make a big deal out of it. As always.
She's 50 minutes behind and he's drunk all of his hot chocolate. The warm sweet drink had been the only thing keeping his nerves mostly at bay, so now the choice is between pulling at the loose threads of his ripped jeans until they're ruined or getting another drink. He knows he needs the sugar to calm him down, but he really doesn't want to get up. If he gets up, he won't be able to look out the window, to watch the bus stop, to wait for Jirou. And it's seven p.m, so there are no servers around, so he'll have to order at the counter, so he'll have to talk to the hot barista. Everything he doesn't want to do. But he needs the sugar, which is why he gets all of his non-existing courage together and walks up to the counter, calling out to the purple-haired boy.
"Uh, hey!"
The usually mean-looking boy almost jumps in surprise at the sound of his voice, not having seen him approach. He turns around quickly to stare wide-eyed at him.
"Can I... help you?"
"Yeah! Can I have another hot chocolate, please?"
One blink. Two blinks.
"Alright. Just a minute."
"Ok!"
In barely 40 seconds, the barista goes through three different cups and a few unintelligible motions, before handing Kaminari the steaming cup of his favorite drink.
"There you go."
"Sweet, thanks! Do I pay now or later?"
The boy seemed to mull over the question for no more than a moment before saying "It's alright, you can pay after your date", effectively stopping any semblance of rational thought in Kaminari's head.
"Oh, uh. Ok, thanks. For the... chocolate. Yeah."
Going back to sit at his booth, Kaminari almost drops his drink, busy wondering how the cute barista knows he has a date. He's well aware of his habit of having all of his dates in the cafe - it's painfully on purpose - but he didn't think the purple-haired boy would have picked up on it.
It might seem a bit extreme to always go to the same place, and that's because it is. But their hot chocolate is godly, really. And their sweets are amazing, and the couches are so fluffy, and it's close to his home (and there's the hot-) . It's a good place. It's comforting, familiar. God knows he could use some familiarity, meeting a different person every week. He won't need that anymore, though. Once he's able to get serious with Jirou, there'll be no need for the lovely embrace of the cafe to hold him up when his hopes are low (and what does it say about him that the thought of not coming back every Saturday leaves him feeling bittersweet). He'll have a girlfriend he can take to the movies and the park and his house and the beach. He won't need the pink cushions and the hot chocolate and the new people every weekend and the hot barista on the other side of the counter.
The barista that somehow knows he has a date every Saturday.
All of this time, he hadn't been thinking about what it looked like from the outside. The guy who comes in for a different date every week? The cute barista must think he's crazy. Though... the cafe isn't huge, but there are over a dozen tables, and the place is popular enough for most of them to be occupied on a good day. Maybe he's underestimating the barista's people-watching skills, but surely the only way for anyone to pick up on Kaminari's weekly dates would be to pay very particular attention to him.
That gets his head spinning more than it probably should. Already sat down and sipping at his scalding hot chocolate, he raises his head to look up at the purple-haired boy. He's met with just-as-purple eyes that had already been looking his way, for how long, he doesn't know. This is the second time they've done this. Looking, meters away from each other, but their eyes still find each other, as if they couldn't look anywhere else even if they tried. As if they couldn't turn away.
Kaminari is the first to break eye contact, distracted by the buzzing of his phone on the table. He had been so deep in thought, he hadn't checked the time. The sky is dark already, Jirou is more than an hour late. And it's her contact that appears on the screen.
[jackie]: oh um
[jackie]: no im not coming
[jackie]: i dont think this is gonna work out between us
[jackie]: like youre great, really
[jackie]: and id love to keep being friends
[jackie]: but dating wise youre just... a lot, you know
[jackie]: please dont feel bad its just
[jackie]: we only went out twice and youre already so invested
[jackie]: idk man, its just overwhelming, to be honest
[jackie]: so yeah, im not coming :/
[jackie]: sorry, kaminari
His face falls so fast he almost gets whiplash himself. He's back there. Back in the limbo. He did it again, and his throat aches. He got his expectations too high, too fast. He was stupid, stupid, stupid.
For minutes, all he can bring himself to do is drink his hot chocolate and try not to think too hard. He fails, of course.
He's so dumb, he thought she liked him just because she went on two dates with him. He's so desperate for love, he'd assume getting a second date means anything. She probably just went out with him out of pity, anyway. It doesn't matter. It's not a big deal. I just need to- Um, he needs to. To finish his hot chocolate and go home. Go to sleep, yeah, sleeping will help. Ask that cute boy from 1B out later. Maybe he's the right one - who knows? Jirou wasn't. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. He should have learned by now. He's being overdramatic, it was only two dates. And that's exactly why Jirou hates him. It was only two dates. Desperate. Pathetic. Don't cry. You're in public.
It's ok, Kaminari just needs to get his stupid, stupid emotions under control, pay for two hot chocolates and leave. Just leave. Easy.
Or it should be.
As it turns out, any plans of "keeping emotions under control" go out the window when he goes to the counter to pay for his drinks. As soon as he says he's leaving, the barista looks around for a second and, with the slightest tint in his cheeks, awkwardly asks "... No date today?"
The lump that had been stuck in Kaminari's throat for a while triples in size, and before he knows, his vision is blurry and the tears are already dripping down his chin.
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry, I didn-"
"No, no, it's fine, It's alright." He tries to settle the distressed look on the barista's face, but he can't bring himself to stop crying. He just can't.
"No, it's not, you're crying, oh my god." His voice is gentle, as if Kaminari was something precious and breakable. As if there was something terribly wrong with the very idea that the boy could ever be upset. Coming around the counter, the barista settles a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the nearest table and asking him to sit down. Through the tears, Kaminari can't see the distraught look on the other's face, but he can hear the worry in his voice as he sits beside him and asks "What happened, are you ok?"
Maybe it was the sudden break of the dam he'd been keeping all of his emotions behind, maybe it was the sincerity coming from the boy beside him, but for some reason, Kaminari found himself wanting to be honest.
"It's nothing, it's just... I was supposed to be on a date right now, but she... she doesn't want to go out with me anymore."
"Oh, I'm sorry, that sucks."
Whether there's actually pity in the barista's tone or not, Kaminari certainly hears it, and it bothers him.
"No, it's alright, really. It's not a big deal." It never is, he doesn't say. I'm used to people getting my hopes up and then leaving, he doesn't say. "I'm just... so tired. I keep putting myself out there and I try my best and it never works out. And I thought this time it would. Sometimes I just can't tell love and attention apart, you know?"
It's dead quiet for a moment. It abruptly hits Kaminari that they're alone in this cafe and he's venting to a stranger.
"...Wait a minute." is the last thing Kaminari hears before the barista bolts towards the counter and disappears behind the doors leading to the back. The sudden solitude sends him into a spiral.
Oh shit, you suck. Why are you dumping your shit on the cute barista, you don't even know him, he didn't ask to know what the fuck is wrong with you, you're a stranger to him, for fuck's sake, he doesn't deserve this. Why would you do this, this is why no one would ever want to date you, you're too much, you're overwhelming, you overwhelmed Jirou, that's why she doesn't like you anymore, you're too much, you're easy to like but you're hard to love. You're hard to love.
The blunt sound of a plate being set in front of him snaps him out of his rabbit hole of catastrophizing and self-deprecation. There, in front of his slightly shaky hands, is a single slice of cake, extra whipping cream, and a big strawberry on top. The shiny silver fork at its side is as much of an invitation as is the barista quickly sitting next to him, centimeters away from touching shoulders.
"I... sweets usually cheer me up when I'm upset. I thought it could help.", the barista says, looking right into Kaminari's eyes. What he once had mistaken for pity now looks a lot more like caring. In the back of his mind, he admires how much of a good person this boy must be, to go out of his way to comfort someone who's essentially a stranger to him.
"It does help. Thanks."
Kaminari takes the first bite, and the two of them get that moment all to themselves. The empty coffeeshop housing only the two boys, their quiet companionship, and the drying tear tracks in Kaminari's cheeks. He didn't feel the need to fill the silence between them, but the barista apparently did, for he spoke up.
"...I don't really know how to help, though - I'm not good with this kind of thing. But, the way I see it, if she wasn't meant to be, then there's nothing to do about it, right? That's not the type of stuff you can fix. And for the record, I think you're really brave for putting yourself out there like that. You're not afraid of trying your chance at love. Most people don't have the guts to do that. I guess you just have to trust your luck to kick in and the right person to show up."
And that's the last straw, the last bit of sincerity and kindness while expecting nothing in return, it's the last Kaminari can take. He gathers up all of his remaining hope, whatever had been fueling him through dozens of pick-up lines before, and blurts out "Do you wanna go out? On a date? A.. uhh... romantic date? With me?"
As soon as he hears himself, he's too embarrassed to even look at the other's face, until he hears his voice, quietly but surely, responding.
"Yeah... I do." Denki looks up, only to see the barista's eyes drawn down to his lips. He's suddenly dizzy. "I'm free in 15 minutes."
"I guess I can't take you on a date at your own workplace, right?"
That draws a light chuckle out of the other boy, and it's so adorable Denki has to fight back a blush.
"No, you can't... But there's a cat cafe a couple blocks over. What do you say?"
the end