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"Thank you, and please come again!" The bell on the back of the door jingles merrily as the couple exit, hand in hand as they gaze adoringly into each other's eyes, and Hashirama waves them off. Six months after he first introduced them and they're still just as perfectly matched as he knew they would be, Hashirama picks up the cups and silently congratulates himself on his matchmaking skills even as Tobirama rolls his eyes behind the counter.
"After the way you unintentionally insulted them - both of them - I have no idea how you managed to convince them to actually date." Tobirama takes the cups from him and rinses them out before dropping them in the dishwasher. "You're magic, I swear."
"It's my coffee!" Hashirama grins cheerfully, spooning some melted chocolate into a mug. "Not that you'd know, since you refuse to drink any!"
"Since I'm also your unpaid helper, you can reimburse me for my time in chocolate." Tobirama taps his fingers impatiently and the steam wand has barely finished its work before he's making grabby hands at his drink of choice. "Now hand it over!"
"Bossy!" Hashirama does as his brother asks, but not without ruffling fluffy white hair, amused when Tobirama huffs but stands still for it. "Go on then, and good luck with your next class!"
Tobirama heads out, laptop bag over his shoulder, and Hashirama starts wiping down the kitchen.
His brother isn't wrong, technically, though Hashirama has never said it.
It is magic.
He's not sure why or how, perhaps it's simply that he makes his coffee with the best of intentions, but every cup he makes lifts people up and brings a little bit of happiness into their lives.
His coffee is good, yes, but - silly as it sounds to say - it's also lucky.
At the same time, whenever he touches his customers, he can sense a little bit about them. It's often garbled and hard to interpret, but he gets them... and not just their preferences in coffee.
And so, when he touches two people that he knows will fit, he'll try and bring them together.
Tobirama laughs, accusing him of being the world's most nosey and interfering barista, but how can he not help people?
The bell rings again, and Hashirama looks up to see the one customer he's never been able to read.
"Four o'clock, on the dot!" He starts up the kettle, and grabs the teapot he bought just for this. "Your usual?"
"No, actually." Madara leans on the counter, clearly exhausted. "Work has been hell today."
"No tea?" Hashirama freezes, almost unable to believe his ears. "But you always have tea!"
Hashirama has no idea what made Madara walk into a shop called 'Cake and Coffee' when Madara doesn't even drink coffee. He drinks tea, only requesting a tea pot of freshly boiled water, and actually bringing his own tea leaves!
He steeps it himself, everything.
It makes Hashirama feel superfluous, it really does, but, more importantly, how is he supposed to work magic with that?
He's a coffee guy!
Madara wants to drink a bunch of dried leaves when Hashirama is right here offering the best coffee ever?
"Except today." Madara sighs, rubbing leather clad fingers over his eyes. "Today is the day I finally take you up on your offer."
"One espresso, coming right up!" Hashirama whirls into action, measuring grounds into the portafilter by eye before tamping them down and purging the machine. "Last chance to say no!"
"Hit me." Madara sounds resolute, and Hashirama pulls the shot before serving it with a flourish.
"Here you go, a cup of my best!" He watches with bated breath as Madara takes the first sip, eyes closed and shoulders relaxing slowly. "And....?"
"And you're magic." Madara peels off his glove before reaching out, and Hashirama grabs the offered hand. "I've been looking for you."
Feeling the tingle between their palms, the fit, Hashirama knows he's right.
This is the man of his dreams.