Work Text:
To begin with Bakugou didn’t even like coffee. He found the taste to be just as pleasant as drinking a cup of black tar, too thick and bitter for him to possibly keep down. And it did such terrible things to the body, like raising your blood pressure or triggering an adrenaline rush that he of all people didn’t need — not to mention how addictive the stuff was.
Yet here he was standing in front of a coffee shop.
And he completely blamed it on the shitty day he was having — a shitty week to be honest. Considering he was now on a forced vacation because of an accident that landed him in the hospital with a broken arm. A broken arm that he was refused healing quirk treatment on because fucking Deku decided ‘he’s pushing himself too hard’ and ‘he needed to take a break anyway.’ And not a single soul would go against the pillar of peace’s wishes.
So he had been stuck ‘relaxing’ at home except he didn’t know how to. It had been years since he had done anything other than saving lives and filing paperwork. He couldn’t remember the last time he sat down in one place doing absolutely nothing and he could only exercise so much.
And sure he hung out with his friends from time to time. Going to a bar or lounging around at Mina’s house but this was different. He was surrounded by his gaggle of idiots during those times but now he’s all alone. Stuck in his big ass apartment with not a single thing to do.
Which was why he was here at this shop — a change of scenery he supposed.
Bakugou pushed open the front door to be greeted by the chime of a bell and the distinct scent of coffee. Coupled with the ever cheery voice of a barista sounding at the front and a friendly wave hello.
Surveying the area Bakugou noticed just how vacant the place was. The coffee shop was basically empty if he didn’t count the two cats curled up on top of the counter, right next to the cash register. One pale blonde and the other black, curled up into one another having an afternoon nap right where the sun shined through the windows.
Bakugou chose a seat close to the back and took out a book Momo bought him. She’d given him the book to help pass the time while he recovered. Told him it was a best seller and a mystery that would keep him guessing until the end. But he was sure the killer was the obvious idiot the author thought he was being sneaky with. Not that he wouldn’t finish it, he had to make sure he was right.
“Can I get you anything?” A suspiciously familiar voice asked.
“Coffee,” Bakugou muttered, keeping his eyes on the book in front of him. The dumbass had just slipped up and said something stupid to the detective.
“Coffee? Could you be more specific,” the voice questioned, the tiredness of it catching his attention.
He looked up to find one Hitoshi Shinsou staring at him and if he was being honest he might have done a double take — what the hell?
“Why the hell are you here?” Bakugou demanded, blunt as always.
The corner of Shinsou’s mouth twitched, “good to see you too.”
“I didn’t say that shit,” Bakugou frowned, getting a good look at his appearance.
He looked like he was working there. Suited up in a white button up shirt and black slacks. Along with a dark green apron and a pair of black sneakers. Strangely enough another cat laid across his neck too — completely at home on him.
Shinsou rolled his eyes,“you didn’t have to. Are you sure you can’t be more specific on what kind of coffee you want?”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Bakugou said, setting his book down and giving Shinsou his complete attention.
As much as he looked at home in a coffee shop, Bakugou still found it weird to see Shinsou there. Shouldn’t the guy be sleeping around this time? He practically lived like a vampire once he started doing hero work — what gives?
“I work here,” Shinsou replied, a wordless duh left unsaid.
“Don’t give me that shit, you know what I mean.”
“Do I? Also, if you don’t specify a drink, I’ll make something random.” He stated, already planning out what to make. While he was tempted to give him their shittiest plain brew just to piss him off, he knew there was a certain vanilla latte he thought Bakugou might like. A little on the sweet side for his tastes but he remembered Bakugou being a bit of a sweet-tooth.
‘Bit’ might actually be an understatement considering that one time he walked in on him stuffing his face silly with Satou’s sweets in the middle of the night. Bakugou practically looked like a five-year-old the night after Halloween. It was a shame no one saw it but him and a down right travesty Bakugou snatched his phone before Shinsou could send a picture to the group chat.
“How many times do I have to ignore your question for it to be obvious that I don’t care what kind of coffee you make.”
“You could just say ‘I don’t care,’” Shinsou reminded him, nibbling on the backside of a pencil. Maybe he should top it with whipped cream or chocolate syrup. Wait— No, caramel would be better.
“I don’t care.” Bakugou emphasized, watching him write something down on a notepad, “answer my damn question.”
“I stopped doing hero work,” Shinsou said simply, as if he was just commenting on the weather and not a major career change.
“What!” Bakugou yelled, shocking the cat right off Shinsou's neck. Luckily the poor thing landed on its feet. Hissing at Bakugou’s booth before wandering off to find somewhere else to sleep.
Shinsou hummed unbothered by Bakugou’s reaction and left to start on his coffee. Ignoring Bakugou even when he heard him yelling behind him.
Returning to Bakugou’s booth Shinsou wasn’t surprised to find Bakugou hadn’t gotten over it,“what do you mean you quit hero work?”
“Exactly that,” he replied, there really wasn’t much to it. He’d quit and as for why, he’ll keep that to himself.
“Why the fuck? Does anyone know?”
Shinsou placed Bakugou’s coffee on top of the table deciding that he would ignore that little comment,“Why do you care so much?”
“I don’t.” Bakugou answered faster than he had meant to.
Bakugou really didn’t. Whatever eye bags did had nothing to do with him. He couldn’t care less if he was working at a coffee shop on the side. Everyone had side jobs, he knew for a fact Ochako had three. But this wasn’t a side job, it was apparently Shinsou’s main source of income and that might have bugged him a little bit.
Back in high school, not that Bakugou paid that much attention, he remembered the boy being willing to give up an arm and a leg to be a hero. He worked hard in both his academic grades and training. Determined to get to his goal regardless of setbacks. And boy did Shinsou have setbacks, it had almost gotten to the point where Bakugou could hardly laugh about it.
Often finding the boy in the gym exercising long into the night with trembling arms and sweat oozing from his body. Fingers wrapped in band-aids from all the cuts and bruises he had gotten from training with Aizawa. And his eyes starting to swim from the lack of sleep and exhaustion — but he never stopped.
He kept going until he truly couldn’t move anymore. Pushing his body until he had finally gotten in the hero program and even then he never stopped working. He was a person that at the very least Bakugou could respect for his determination and willingness to get back up no matter how many times he fell down.
So although Bakugou didn’t care, he wanted to know why he’d throw all that hard work down the drain to work at a coffee shop of all places.
Shinsou rolled his eyes, he obviously didn’t believe him but he wasn’t the type to force people — especially not a feisty firecracker of a person,“whatever you say. Enjoy your coffee.”
Bakugou grabbed his arm refusing to end the conversation there,“just fuckin’ tell me.”
Shinsou raised his eyebrow looking down at the arm linking him to Bakugou,“what’s the magic word?”
“Th’fuck?”
“Definitely not it,” Shinsou snorted, placing his hand over Bakugou’s and pulling. He easily removed Bakugou’s hand from his arm but the contact left a warm tingle that seemed to seep into his skin.
Thinking about it, it had been a while since someone other than Aizawa had asked about his situation. Shinsou had slowly stopped talking to the others over years and they hardly had the time to reconnect. They were just so busy and had much bigger problems than his own. But he will say it was kind of funny that the number two top hero who also had similar schedules to his friends was the one to ask.
“The fuck are you talking about,” Bakugou asked again, looking at Shinsou as if he was speaking a completely different language.
“The magic word,” Shinsou repeated, letting the corner of his lips turn upward.
“And that is,” Bakugou frowned, eyeing Shinsou suspiciously.
“You don’t know it? I can’t tell you,” Shinsou replied, amused all the same.
“What the— are you five?” Bakugou grumbled,“Is there anything you can fuckin’ tell me?”
“The specials, we recommend a pound cake to go with your coffee.” Shinsou replied smoothly, holding up a pamphlet of a menu. It was covered in images of different sweet treats, the previously mentioned pound cake being on the front cover.
For a second Bakugou was ready to get pissed remembering exactly why the two of them never talked. Shinsou had a grating habit of talking people in circles and he seemed to take pleasure in frustrating the hell out of him.
“Is the magic word please ?” He asked, snatching the menu from Shinsou’s hand.
“Yep,” Shinsou answered, popping the p. His body going from standing up straight to leaning against the booth Bakugou was sitting in. He could be here a while.
“And you want me to say please?” Bakugou stressed making it clear he didn’t want to do that.
Shinsou shrugged his shoulders,“You’re the one who wants to know all my secrets, the least you could do is say please.”
“I don’t want to know your secrets,” Bakugou said, thumbing through the small pamphlet. There was a cheesecake he kind of wanted to try in there.
“Oh really?” Shinsou questioned leaning further into the booth, almost close enough to smell the faint scent of caramel coming off Bakugou. “You don’t?”
“Is your status as a hero a ‘secret?’” Bakugou asked, putting air quotes around the word secret.
“You shouldn’t answer a question with another question.”
“I swear to god you purple Albert Einstein looking—”
“That’s a new one,” Shinsou interrupted, curious to see if Bakugou would blow.
And to his surprise he didn’t, Bakugou had a lot more self control compared to when they were in high school. Instead he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and silently counting to five. Making a point to remind himself he was the one who wanted the information.
“Fine,” Bakugou grit out, “Will you please tell me why you quit hero work.”
“Maybe,” Shinsou smiled, pushing off the booth to make as much space between them as possible. He may not have blown up before but there was a good chance he would now.
“…You’re fuckin’ kidding. I said please.”
Shinsou hummed in response, turning on his heels and walking off. Leaving Bakugou to sit there trembling in his seat.
This fucking asshole.
Bakugou got up planning to force the words out of him when his hand grazed the coffee sitting on the table right next to him, nearly spilling it all over the table and his book.
Picking up the cup of coffee Bakugou noticed a sticky note stuck to the side of it. On the note was black writing he could only assume was done with sharpie. Written in sloppy chicken scratch was a string of numbers and a name Bakugou could hardly read it at first. Taking him all of three minutes before it clicked — Hitoshi Shinsou.
If you really want to know, call me.