Work Text:
It had been a funny thing, at first. Watching as the guy I’d just finished serving finally noticed the message left for him on his cup. It was a joke I had heard recently that I’d figured he should get the joy of experiencing.
He was a cute guy who had been super nervous when he ordered after all, so I figured this may cheer him up a bit. I was right, or at least, I think I was. He made a little sound that sounded suspiciously like a squeak and quickly rushed out the cafe.
He came back a few days later, me luckily being the barista at the time, and he ordered the same thing with the same amount of nervousness. I decided to keep up with the writing a joke for him, and this time he gave a shaky, but doubtlessly genuine, smile to the cup before he rushed out.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
This continued for a couple weeks, he would come at least twice a week, ask for his normal drink and smile at whatever joke I’d conjured up that day before quickly leaving as if a fire was hot on his tail.
A couple of times he had a different barista who didn’t put a joke on the cup, he had seemed disappointed when he noticed but it was always hard to tell with how fast he left. Afterward, I tried my best to be his barista each time he would enter despite the looks I got from my coworkers when I would take over as soon as he walked in. Some had teased me after the first week, asking if I had a crush on the midnight-haired individual. I disregarded them completely with maturity, ignoring the tongue I stuck out at them as I clocked out for the night, leaving their snickering behind me.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
It was only after almost a month that I wrote anything other than a joke. I had noticed his ears upon first meeting him, elongated appendages similar to that of an elf (something from the pre-quirk era that I didn’t fully understand but saw art of occasionally and had searched up when I was younger) that twitched with every word spoken. Sometimes, they would flip downwards when something wasn’t available or a loud clatter sounded from somewhere in the back.
In short, his ears were adorable and before I knew it (or could even stop myself) I found myself handing over a drink with a compliment instead of the usual joke. It wasn’t that I had run out of my jokes, as that was never an option and would be considered a serious tragedy, but more that I didn’t think about the consequences.
As usual, he paused to read whatever had been written, a smile already in place, and I watched as the smile dropped into a surprised expression with his mouth hanging open and his face exploding into crimson down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. He made this cute little squeaking noise, something I hadn’t heard since the first time I had served him, before practically sprinting out the door. I watched, stupefied, as his figure ran down the street disappearing around a corner before I knew it.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
It was two weeks before he came back to the cafe and, unfortunately, I had not noticed as I was taking stock and restocking what I could in the back. It was only when a coworker, a nice young woman who had been hired last month due to the helpful nature of her quirk, darted around the corner and, after successfully crashing into the counter with a sharp hiss, zeroed in on my face. She started ranting, words flying out of her mouth in an incoherent jumble of sound. The only thing I really understood were the words ‘crush’ and ‘at the counter’ which she had practically yelled into my face.
At that, I wasted no time rushing out to take his order. A new compliment, this time directed at the small smile he gave me upon my arrival, was written on his cup and I watched as he walked away. Face flushed, ears perked upwards, and a big (yet still shaky) smile that reached his eyes.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
It was an entire month before I worked up the nerve to write my number, weeks upon weeks chickening out and writing something else. Sometimes jokes, sometimes compliments, sometimes a mix of both.
But, eventually, it was done. And now, after a day of work and laying in bed, I had been waiting for what felt like an eternity for him to call. I’d even accept a text. He did call, eventually, but it lasted all of a second before he let out a high-pitched squeak and promptly hung up.
I laughed softly, smiling at the phone as I typed out a text (only after I had verified that this was the cute guy, I’m no idiot) stating my name and a request for a date later that week.
He responded an hour later, the only thing written being his name and a short, but nonetheless important, yes.