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“We're getting coffee.”
Akane grabs his arm and drags him out of the library, where they'd spent the night studying for exams. Finals are a terrible curse inflicted upon the world, and the library is a terrible hell full of undergrads who don't know how to keep quiet. Kougami wants nothing more than to go home and sleep, but he can't, because he has an exam that afternoon.
“I don't drink coffee,” he tells her. “I heard it's unhealthy.”
“You smoke,” Akane points out. “I think you'll like it.”
She takes him to a small cafe on the edge of campus called Division One, which is a strange name for a coffee shop.
“At least it's not Starbucks,” Kougami mutters. He associates Starbucks with terrible things, like unruly teenagers and overly complicated drink names.
“I like Starbucks,” Akane mutters, and she opens the door and leads them inside.
Division One is nearly empty, possibly because everyone on campus is still trapped in the library, slumped over their books and computers.
Akane marches straight up to the counter, doesn't even look at the menu, and rattles off a drink. Kougami stares at the menu, at things that don't look familiar. But none of them just say “coffee.”
Apparently, Starbucks isn't the only place with the complicated drink name problem. He doesn't even notice that Akane's staring at him or that it's been several minutes until the barista comes to stand directly in front of him, coughs lightly, and asks, “Can I help you?”
It's lucky for Kougami that there's no one else in line, but the barista still looks a bit impatient. His glasses are perched on the end of his nose and his dark hair falls into his eyes. The corners of his mouth are turned down, not quite a frown but the anticipation of one.
His name tag reads, “Nobuchika.”
“Uh...” Kougami taps his chin. “Coffee?”
Nobuchika sighs, almost quietly enough that Kougami wonders if he imagined it. But the flat tone of his voice makes it quite clear how the barista feels. “What kind of coffee?”
“Ah,” Akane jumps in, “sorry. He's never had coffee before.”
“At all?”
“No. Hmmm, Kougami, do you like sweet things?”
“Uh.” Kougami blinks up at the menu. “I just wanted a cup of coffee. What are these things?”
Nobuchika adjusts his glasses. “I'll make something.”
He goes off towards the espresso machines before Kougami can protest. It takes a few minutes punctuated by the oddly calming whir of the machines before Nobuchika reappears with a cup on a saucer. The drink inside is strange to Kougami, the top swirled brown and white and strangely fluffy.
Kougami pays and carefully takes the cup over to Akane.
She glances at his drink and smiles. “It's pretty.”
Kougami looks at his cup again. The pattern on the surface of his drink looks intricate. He takes his spoon and is almost reluctant to disturb the artwork, but he does. The spoon comes away foamy.
“What is this?” he asks.
“Oh, a lot of coffee drinks have foamed milk,” Akane says, stirring sugar into her drink. “It's good.”
Kougami takes a sip. The liquid is warm on his tongue, doesn't burn him. He can taste a burst of strong flavor, not too bitter but not sweet. There's hints of things, hints of sweetness and flavors he can't begin to name. But he knows it tastes good. He takes another sip, and thinks that this isn't the sort of drink you down in one go. It's meant to be savored.
Akane grins at him over the rim of her cup.
“What?” Kougami asks.
“You like it,” she says.
“It tastes good,” Kougami says with a shrug.
“This place has the best coffee in town,” Akane tells him. “I knew you'd like it.”
“Why can't we study here?” Kougami asks.
“Because the books I need are back in the library,” Akane says. She looks regretful.
They finish their drinks and before they leave, Kougami goes up to the counter and says, “That was really good.”
Nobuchika stares at him, shocked, and then mutters, “Thanks,” and turns away.
Akane gives Kougami a strange look as they walk out the door.
*
Coffee, Kougami finds out, is not universally delicious.
He finds this out over his winter break, when he gets coffee from a train station and actually does down it all in the space of a few minutes because it tastes so bitter and despite it being scalding hot, he knows that if it gets cold, it'll be even worse.
“Some places have better coffee that others,” Akane says, and he gets annoyed because she should have told him that before.
The train station coffee gives him trust issues and even though Akane suggests other good places to get coffee, some of which can even be found within train stations, he doesn't have another until after break is over and he goes back to campus.
He decides to pay a visit to Division One on his first day of classes. Nobuchika is there, but so is another barista with orange hair and a smile that makes Kougami wonder if he should be wary of something.
“Helloooo,” the orange-haired barista, whose name tag reads 'Shuusei,' chirps. “What can I get you?”
“Uh...” Kougami doesn't know the name of the drink he had last time.
The barista bounces on the balls of his feet. “Wanna try my special custom signature drink?”
“Wha--”
“It's called the Kagari killer.”
“Kagari!” Nobuchika appears from the back room, looking stern. He sees Kougami and sighs. “I'll deal with it.”
“Ginooooo--”
“Kagari.”
“Fine.”
Kagari slinks to hide behind the baking display, but Kougami can feel him staring at them.
“Uh, hi,” Kougami says, rubbing the back of his neck. “What was the name of the drink you made me last time?”
“A latte,” Nobuchika answers. “But if you want something different, I can make that as well. Unless you still haven't learned the basic terms for coffee-based drinks.”
There's an insult in there, but Kougami decides to ignore it. “I can't say I have. I've been a bit busy studying for my classes and what not.”
Nobuchika's eyes narrow slightly, and Kougami realizes that what he said could also be considered a bit of an insult. But before he can say anything else, Nobuchika says, “Fine,” and disappears behind the coffee machines.
“What're ya making?” Kagari asks.
Nobuchika ignores him.
“At least ask his name!” Kagari says.
“We only do that when we're busy,” Nobuchika snaps. “Do you see anyone else here?”
“But don't you want to know his name?” Kagari asks. “He's good looking.”
“Huh?” Kougami spins to stare at Kagari, who just grins back at him.
“He may not look it, but outside of work Gino is a smooth roman--”
“Kagari!”
Kagari laughs, a little maniacally.
“This,” Nobuchika says, shoving Kougami's drink across the counter, “is a cappuccino.”
“Thanks,” Kougami says, handing over cash. He glances down at the drink, notices another lovely pattern created by milk and coffee. He looks up as Nobuchika hands him change, wants to tell him that he really likes the art, but Nobuchika turns and darts into the back room like he can't get away fast enough.
“It's just teasing,” Kagari says. “Really.” He doesn't sound convincing.
Kougami sits down at a table by the window and takes out a book. This drink is noticeably less sweet, the coffee flavor stronger, and there's more foam, which feels nice when he takes a sip.
It's almost enough to erase the horror of the train station coffee from his memory.
*
It becomes something like a routine. Kougami appears at the coffee shop, usually when there's little to no customers, and Nobuchika makes him a drink. When he hands it over, he always makes sure to state what it is. They hardly talk beyond Kougami ordering “whatever you think I'd like” and Nobuchika telling him what he's made.
And there's always nice art. Thatching. Several types of flowers. Something that looks like a spider web.
They run through the standards and Nobuchika ends up serving him variations of simple drinks, adding flavored syrup to some, or alternative espressos to the shop's standards. There's a few other baristas who work there as well. Kagari is usually bouncing behind the counter in the afternoons, while in the mornings there's a woman named Yayoi. There's others whose names he doesn't remember, but he's sure that he will given time.
But Nobuchika is always the one making Kougami's drinks. And no matter what time of day Kougami shows up, he's always there.
He's colder than a barista ought to be and there's friendlier employees in the shop, but he makes the best damn coffee and for some reason keeps making Kougami different types of drinks so he can learn everything that coffee does.
Without really intending to, Kougami becomes a regular.
It helps that there are plenty of tables and space, and the place is always kept warm, and there's wifi, and Kougami can spread out and study or write papers or do research for hours on end because he foolishly decided to get a masters degree in philosophy. Sometimes Akane comes to study with him, and sometimes he's alone. It's much better than the library.
One day, towards midterms, the cafe gets busy. For the first time, Nobuchika isn't the one taking his order. Instead it's Kagari, who says, “You want a coffee with a side of Gino's number, right?”
“Kagari!” Nobuchika snaps from where he's making coffee with Yayoi.
“Kidding!” Kagari waves a hand holding a sharpie in the air. “What do you want?”
“Uh...a peppermint latte?” It's one of the most refreshing drinks he's had, and something that he'd only discovered recently.
Kagari takes a piece of paper and attaches it to a ceramic cup. “Name?”
“Uh, Kougami Shinya,” Kougami says. “Why do you--”
“So we can tell who has what when there's too many people and they all ordered variations on the same thing,” Kagari says. “Also, I didn't need your full name. Haven't you ever been to Starbucks?”
“No.”
“Wasting time, Kagari,” Nobuchika mutters, plucking the cup and the sharpie from his hands. He writes something on the slip of paper, then hands the sharpie back to Kagari, who shrugs.
“Just doing customer service,” he says.
Kougami heads off to the side to wait for his drink, and watches the baristas work.
Despite Kagari's strange attitude, he's extremely friendly with the customers, which seems to draw everyone, even the quiet ones, from their shells. It occurs to him that he's never actually seen Kagari make a cup of coffee.
And for the first time since he's been here, Kougami actually watches Nobuchika make drinks. He sees the process of grinding beans into espresso, of pouring the grinds into a small vessel, flattening them, and slotting them into the espresso machine. Nobuchika does these things efficiently, confidently.
And then there's the steamed milk. Kougami's eyes widen when he sees the way Nobuchika pours milk into the drinks, and it isn't simply the upending of liquid into a cup. Nobuchika uses strangely precise movements of the wrist, quick and practiced, and somehow, by the time the cup is filled, there's something like a work of art on the drink's surface.
And then he does it again.
And then he calls, “Kougami,” breaking Kougami out of his trance. He grabs his cup, mutters a quick, “Thanks” and finds a table in the corner of the cafe.
Today's coffee art is another flower.
Kougami takes a picture on his phone for the first time, because it doesn't seem fair that Nobuchika's art should always disappear. And then he notices the name on the slip of paper attached to his cup.
Nobuchika had written “Kou.”
And maybe it's just a matter of being in a rush or not wanting to spell out the whole name, but Kougami finds something endearing about it. He pockets the little slip of paper and knows he's being ridiculous, and then starts studying because he shouldn't be this worked up about his own name.
But he is, and it's distracting, and he can't help looking up sometimes to watch Nobuchika work.
*
“You're never in the library anymore,” Akane tells him over dinner one night. “What's this?” She grabs his phone before he can stop her and pulls a piece of paper off.
Kougami's ears burn when he realizes what the paper is—the little paper from coffee cup.
“'Kou,'” she reads, and then raises an eyebrow at Kougami. “This is from Division One.”
“I don't know how that got there,” Kougami says.
“You have been spending a lot more time there,” Akane says. “The coffee is really good, but do you really want another addiction on top of smoking?”
“It's not an addiction,” Kougami says.
Akane hums and takes another bite of her noodles. After a moment Kougami adds, “That barista is always working when I'm there.”
“Kougami, do you like that barista?”
Kougami blinks. Hearing her say that, hearing it out loud, makes his breath catch. “What?”
Akane gives him a knowing look.
“I don't like that barista,” Kougami says. “I don't even know him. He probably hates me because I know nothing about coffee.”
“He hates you so much he's made you every coffee drink that exists,” Akane reminds him, “and a few that probably don't.”
“I'm sure he does that for everyone,” Kougami says.
“No he doesn't,” Akane says.
Kougami glares at her. Akane shrugs and goes back to her notes.
“You don't believe me,” Kougami says.
“Mmm-hmm,” Akane hums without looking up.
*
The next day, there's a dog in the cafe.
The dog is a large husky, and it greets Kougami at the door, so he bends over to pet it. When he heads to the counter to order, the dog follows him, occasionally nudging him in the leg, and none of the baristas are saying anything about it, so Kougami isn't sure that they know it's here.
Yayoi takes his order today, and Kougami tells her, “There's a dog in here.”
“Oh?” She turns to Nobuchika, hidden behind the espresso machine as he is more often than not, and says, “There's a dog in here.”
“Cut it out,” Nobuchika says. To Kougami he adds, “It's my dog. His name is Dime.”
Kougami blinks. “You're allowed to bring your dog to work?”
“What do you want?” Yayoi cuts in. Not unkindly, but there is someone else behind Kougami.
“Uh, peppermint latte,” Kougami says. He pays and heads over to where Nobuchika hands him his drink.
Dime follows him.
“I'm probably missing something,” Kougami says, “but do baristas usually bring their dogs to work?”
“Dime enjoys people,” Nobuchika says, handing him his drink, and before Kougami can ask him to elaborate, he turns away to make something else.
Kougami sits at his favorite table by the window and Dime comes to rest near his feet, and he thinks he catches Nobuchika glancing his way every so often but he might be imagining it.
It could just be wishful thinking.
*
“How is it possible for a barista to bring their dog to work?”
Akane stops eating and gives Kougami a judgmental look. “You can run circles around most of the students in our masters program, and even some of the professors, but you can be really dense about people sometimes.”
“What?”
“Kougami,” Akane says with a sigh, “he's the owner of that coffee shop.”
“What!”
“Why do you think he's there all the time?”
“I just thought...I don't know.”
“The only one who spends nearly as much time there besides him is you,” Akane says.
Kougami tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. He tries not to sound too serious when he asks his next question. “Does he like guys?”
Akane laughs. “Why would I know that?” Kougami gives her a look, and she adds, “Well, I am friends with Kagari. I guess I could find out.”
“It's not that important,” Kougami says.
Akane smiles at him like she knows better.
And she's right.
*
“I can't believe you're the owner!”
Nobuchika pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath.
“No wonder you make great coffee,” Kougami adds.
“Gino makes the best coffee,” Kagari agrees. “By the way, are you gonna order anything?”
“No, but seriously, I had no idea.”
“Does it matter?” Nobuchika asks.
“It does,” Kougami says. “This place is amazing. Are you--”
“We shouldn't talk about this here,” Nobuchika says. He goes to make a drink Kougami hasn't asked for yet. It's after Kougami pays that he realizes Nobuchika is making two drinks, and before he can think too hard about why, because no one was behind him, Nobuchika steps out from behind the counter, two coffees in hand, and nods his head towards Kougami's favorite window table.
“Oh,” Kougami says. He turns, walks to the table, and sits down. Nobuchika sits across from him, hands him his drink, and wraps his hands around his own, savoring the warmth. It's still cold outside, ice forming on the sidewalk, and the shop is comfortingly cozy.
It's not until after he takes a sip of his drink that Nobuchika says, “How does someone who knew nothing about coffee become a regular at a coffee shop?”
“Well, uh, that's a good question,” Kougami says, “but I have a better one. How are you the owner of this place? Don't owners usually, I don't know, sit behind desks and hire managers to watch over their employees?”
“This isn't that big of a business,” Nobuchika says.
“Still,” Kougami says. “Most owners wouldn't do the dirty work.”
“Dirty work?”
“Poor choice of words. But you don't look any different from your employees. Same uniform, same name tag, same exact job most of the time. Not that it's a bad thing. I actually think that's great. I just wondered...” It's true. Nobuchika wears the same blue apron as the other baristas, and his name tag only has his name and the word “barista” under it, like everyone else's.
Nobuchika adjusts his glasses. “I enjoy making coffee,” he says. He looks for a moment like he might close down the conversation, but instead he looks Kougami in the eye and asks, “What do you do?”
“Huh?”
“You're not asking all of the questions,” Nobuchika says. “I left Kagari in charge of the counter, which is a huge risk, especially if someone wants coffee, which means that I want to know some things about you as well. You're always reading something, or writing something. You must be a graduate student, humanities. Or a writer.”
“Not a writer,” Kougami says. “I'm actually pretty bad at creative writing. I'm a philosophy student in the masters program. I'm looking into law, actually.”
“Philosophy student,” Nobuchika repeats.
“I know it sounds like a useless degree,” Kougami says, “and an even more useless area of study, but it has its applications, and I enjoy having the ability to test my critical thinking skills and to debate concepts that have to do with some of the most interesting questions we have about the universe and ourselves.” He realizes he sounds defensive.
Nobuchika gives him a wry smile. “I'm not in much of a position to say anything about your choice of career,” he says. “I'm a barista.”
“You own a coffee shop,” Kougami says.
“I'm a barista,” Nobuchika insists. “I have someone help me with the business side of things, but my main focus is coffee. Do you know many people who would put that much time and effort into something that amounts to a non-necessity? And latte art?”
Kougami glances down at his drink, surprisingly untouched, and notices that today's latte art is a dog. When he looks up again, Nobuchika is standing.
“Wait,” Kougami says.
“I need to get back before Kagari breaks something,” Nobuchika says, “or explodes scalding milk all over himself. Again.”
“I want to talk to you,” Kougami says, “outside of the shop.”
Nobuchika's eyebrows draw together. “Why?”
“Because I didn't get to say everything I wanted to say.”
Nobuchika runs a hand through his hair. He reaches into one of the pockets of his apron, pulling out one of the tiny slips of paper he usually sticks on cups, and a sharpie. He hands it to Kougami and says, “Write your number.”
Kougami writes the number down and hands the slip of paper and the sharpie back. Nobuchika pockets both and heads back to work, leaving Kougami to think about the past few minutes.
Akane will be proud, if nothing else.
*
“I found out more about him,” Akane says as they walk to class, “if you need it.”
“I gave him my number,” Kougami admits. Before she can congratulate him, he adds, “What did Kagari say?”
“Nothing that will prevent him from calling you back,” Akane says, and Kougami shoots her a glare. “Okay, he said that Ginoza hasn't--”
“Ginoza?”
“His last name. He said that he hasn't dated anyone as long as Kagari's known him, and that their finance person, Shion, gave him a mission to set Ginoza up with people who come to the cafe,” Akane says. “Shion managed to get out of him that he's asexual but would date anyone that is the right person, which is really vague. Kagari said that Ginoza would probably only date someone who owns at least seven dogs, but I don't think that's true because Kagari is ridiculous.”
Kougami takes this information in, storing it away. An issue pops up in his head and it's out of his mouth before he can stop himself. “I don't own any dogs.”
Akane pats him on the arm, surprisingly hard, nearly tripping him up. “I'm sure Ginoza will be able to see past your lack of dogs.”
*
Nobuchika sends him a message two days later asking if he wants to take a walk after the shop closes. Kougami agrees, and he arrives to see Nobuchika locking up. He's dressed in a long black coat and a dark green scarf, and he bends over to pick something up from the ground before turning to Kougami.
In his hands, he holds two take-away cups of coffee.
“I could kiss you,” Kougami says as he takes one. Nobuchika looks shocked, so he quickly adds, “But I won't!” But part of him feels like he wants to.
They start walking. It's already dark, and there's a sharp chill in the air. Snow crunches beneath their shoes as they make their way across campus. There's hardly anyone else around, and it's quiet, and despite the harsh cold that usually drives him inside during the winter, Kougami finds himself feeling strangely content. Perhaps it's the drink in his hands that warms him from the inside out. Even the taste is warm, the coffee carrying hints of cinnamon and chocolate.
They pass a bench and Kougami gestures for them to sit down. The cold surface makes them both clutch their drinks a bit tighter.
Then Nobuchika breaks the silence, saying, “You told me you had more to say and you've been quiet this whole time.”
“Right,” Kougami says. “I was just thinking about how I don't go outside a lot during the winter. It's nice.”
“Winter is my favorite season,” Nobuchika says. Kougami glances at him, at his scarf and the way his breath forms a cloud in the air every time he exhales, and on some people winter looks like discomfort and misery, but Nobuchika looks at home in the cold.
“Summer is too hot for coffee?”
“No season is too hot for coffee.”
Kougami turns to him. “I just wanted to tell you how amazing I think your cafe is.”
Nobuchika stares at him.
“It's true,” Kougami continues. “The drinks are amazing, and the place is warm and cozy and inviting, and it never feels too crowded or uncomfortably quiet. And you should bring Dime more often, because he just fits right in.”
Nobuchika's mouth is slightly open. He doesn't say a word.
“Look,” Kougami starts, unsure if he's said something wrong, but Nobuchika interrupts him.
“I always wondered if I was doing the right thing,” he says.
“What?”
“The reason I opened a coffee shop,” Nobuchika says, “is because I've always wanted a place to feel comfortable and safe. Where I didn't feel rushed, or worried, and nothing was pushing me to go somewhere else, and where people could exist happily together, or alone if that's what they needed. A break from everything.”
“Oh,” is all Kougami can say.
Nobuchika looks at him, and the smile he wears is almost sad. “I wanted a place that people could go when they were overwhelmed, so that they wouldn't be any more. To be honest, it's a bit selfish of me, because I wanted a place to escape, so I left school and made one. It's nice to know that where I work is also the place I would consider the least stressful. Well, unless Kagari is attempting to make drinks.” He looks away. “I also really enjoy coffee.”
“Nobuchika,” Kougami says, and he likes the way the name feels. Nobuchika looks up at him, and Kougami moves closer, and places his warm hand on Nobuchika's cold cheek. “You must've thought I was so pretentious when I said why I study philosophy.”
Nobuchika laughs, and the smile that follows lights up his face and Kougami can't believe that he hasn't seen it before. At the cafe, he alternates between annoyed and content, but this is the first he's seen of real, outward joy.
Kougami kisses Nobuchika before his smile can disappear.
Nobuchika makes a startled noise, pulls away at first.
“I'm sorry,” Kougami says.
“You're not,” Nobuchika says, and responds with an even deeper kiss.
They pull apart and Kougami realizes that he's dropped his drink on the ground, and their hands are getting cold, and as much as he'd like to stay here for hours he doesn't want to freeze to death.
“Walk you home?” he asks.
“Okay.”
They walk back in the direction of the cafe, and Kougami fishes a cigarette from his pack and starts to light it. But before he can, Nobuchika makes a noise of protest.
“That's terrible,” he says, plucking the cigarette from Kougami's hands and turning it in his long fingers. “Don't you realize how unhealthy that is?”
“Are you saying that you'd willingly enable my caffeine addiction but you won't let me smoke?” Kougami asks, taking the cigarette back before Nobuchika can do something horrifying like throw it in the snow.
Nobuchika makes a disapproving sound but Kougami lights the cigarette anyway. Once he starts smoking, Nobuchika mutters, “I've never seen someone embody the concept of a philosophy student more than you.”
“You should see Makishima,” Kougami tells him, thinking of the student who constantly carries around an open novel and eats madeleines with his tea. “He's the most stereotypical philosophy student out of everyone in the program.”
“And yet he doesn't spend his days in a cafe,” Nobuchika says. Kougami nudges him, tripping him up, and Nobuchika pushes back, and Kougami nearly falls into a pile of snow. By the time they reach the cafe Kougami's finished with his cigarette and Nobuchika is shivering slightly.
“Please don't tell me you live here,” Kougami says.
“I live here,” Nobuchika tells him. “The floor above.”
Kougami sighs. “Haven't you ever heard of not taking your work home with you?”
“And am I supposed to believe you don't take your work home with you, Kougami?” Nobuchika asks.
Kougami grins. “You got me.”
They stand there for a moment in the yellow light of the nearest street lamp. Kougami takes a step forward to close the distance between them and asks, “So what happens now?”
“A date, from what I've been told,” Nobuchika says. “Preferably not coffee.”
“You're not inviting me in?”
“I don't think you can expect that kind of thing from me.”
“Okay, but what about just for a few minutes to warm up? I'm freezing.”
“Smoke another cigarette to keep you warm. I have to wake up early tomorrow. I do own a cafe, you know.”
Kougami laughs. “Fine, fine. What about a goodnight kiss?”
He's half-serious, but Nobuchika complies. Standing like this, Kougami realizes that Nobuchika is slightly taller than him, that he tastes like coffee and the sharp coolness of winter mixed with smoke, which Kougami knows is his fault, but the combination makes him feel like he's sitting wrapped up in a blanket in front of a fireplace while a snow storm rages outside.
Nobuchika pulls away, and Kougami pushes his hair away from his face to see his eyes. They're a green that reflects the light from the street in golden shards, and Kougami realizes that the entire time he's known Nobuchika, he's never gotten a good look at them, as they've been hidden behind glasses and hair falling into his face.
But they're beautiful. Kougami could get lost in everything that he sees there.
Nobuchika doesn't let him look for long. Not yet, Kougami thinks. But at some point they will trust each other enough to not pull away like Nobuchika does now.
“I'll see you tomorrow,” Nobuchika says, and then he's gone.
Kougami hadn't said he'd come to the coffee shop tomorrow, but now he knows he will.