Work Text:
Oikawa Tooru doesn't want to work in a coffee shop.
“You need to to something other than be a lazy ass,” Iwaizumi had said. It's fine for him to say that. Iwaizumi is working as an assistent volleyball coach at a middle school. Oikawa hadn't been able to get a similar position, despite being just as good with kids. He is not bitter at all.
Luckily they still have some irregular volleyball practice during their summer break. Unluckily, both Oikawa's parents and Iwaizumi have decided that Oikawa needs to start earning some sort of money, to learn the value of having income and deciding what to do with it.
“I'm not suited to anything other than volleyball,” Oikawa had complained.
That is true. His resume is non-existant. If he didn't love volleyball so much, he would say that he's never done anything in his life.
“I have some contacts,” Iwaizumi had said.
And he did. Oikawa could see why his parents loved Iwaizumi.
At first, Oikawa thought that the sort of contacts Iwaizumi had would be for a cool job. But now he's standing outside The Hummingbird House Cafe just after sunrise, a stone's throw from his university, wondering why he let Iwaizumi talk him into getting a job.
He doesn't know a thing about coffee. He thinks he knows something about customer service, because he's a charming bastard according to everyone he knows. He wonders how far that will get him.
The interview had gone well. The owner of the cafe, a stern man his age called Sawamura-san, hadn't been phased by Oikawa's lack of experience. “We pick up stray people in need of work all the time,” he'd said, which made Oikawa sound like some sort of street cat. He wasn't sure whether or not to be insulted.
Sawamura had clarified, looking sheepish, “What I mean is, I don't think experience is the most important thing, and this isn't a job that will result in the end of the world if you make mistakes. We can train you. As long as you have the ability to work with other people, that's what counts.”
Working with other people. Oikawa had been the captain of his high school volleyball team. If he can do one thing, it's work with other people.
Or destroy them, according to Iwaizumi.
It's a, Tuesday, it's chilly, and Oikawa has his black apron on, nametag attached (reading “Tooru” because cafes are friendly first-name places). The lights inside the cafe are on and Sawamura had warned him that he would be trained by someone else.
He hopes that whoever the poor person is, they have the same patience as Sawamura.
Taking a deep breath, he steps into the cozy cafe and sees...no one.
“Hello?” he calls out. No response. He decides for something a little more cheerful. “Yoohoo!”
An ash-blond tuft of hair pops up from behind the counter, and then a person with it. Oikawa doesn't know what to make of this, wondering if hiding behind the counter is part of the job. The person, a young man, straightens up and grins at Oikawa.
His smile is far too bright for how early it is. Oikawa's first instinct is that it isn't genuine, but the young man's eyes seem to sparkle in a way that tells Oikawa that it is. Somehow, this person has managed an actual genuine smile at this ungodly hour in the morning while faced with an untrained co-worker.
Oikawa gives one of his charming smiles to mask how unbalanced he feels.
“You're the new trainee barista, right? Tooru-san?” the man asks. “I'm Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga.” He sticks out his hand.
Oikawa moves forward to take it. “Oikawa Tooru. I have to warn you, I've never made a coffee in my life. I've barely even looked at a coffee machine.”
Suga laughs. It's a pleasant sound, light as Suga's hair, and it makes Oikawa feel light on his feet. His heart starts beating a little faster than normal. “That's fine. I didn't even like coffee when I started.”
“What?” That surprises Oikawa.
“But now I love it,” Suga continues.
“I like coffee,” Oikawa says. “Starbucks sweet coffees, though.”
“We make it all here,” Suga says with a shrug. “I love sweet coffees myself. Straight coffee just by itself? Don't tell anyone I said this,” he leans forward, lowering his voice, and Oikawa finds himself moving closer as well, “but I think coffee by itself is kind of gross. It's just bean juice!” He grins at Oikawa, who laughs.
“When you put it that way.”
“Now,” Suga plants his hands on the counter. “If you come back here I can show you where everything is, and then how to work the espresso machines and the steamers, and then how to make drinks. When we open, you'll be in charge of the register, but then someone else will be in, and you can make drinks with me. Sound good?”
Oikawa nods and heads behind the counter. There are a lot of things back there. Paper cups, bags, baked goods, lids, different types of teas, a refridgerator, and many things he can't name. He feels a bit dizzy. Normally he spends his days in a gym on a volleyball court, which feels like a second home, or in class, which isn't nearly this unfamiliar.
For the first time in years, Oikawa feels out of place, off-balance and uncertain. Even when Suga slowly goes through what Oikawa needs to know, his mind reels, not sure if he'll be able to remember it all in when the shift properly starts. He wants to do well. He doesn't want to fail, even if this is only a minimum wage temporary job. He doesn't want to embarrass himself. This should be a simple job, and he won't screw it up.
He feels like he's going to.
He leans against the counter as Suga unlocks the doors. No one is outside yet, thankfully, but Oikawa knows that they'll arrive soon. People need their coffee. He can't mess up their coffee. People get really upset about that.
A hard slap on the back makes him jump, and he whirls around to find Suga watching him.
“Don't be scared,” he says. “It's a lot to take in. I nearly blew up the grinder on my first day. It's definitely a quick learning process, but no one's going to get pissed off at you for making mistakes.”
“I won't make a mistake,” Oikawa says.
Suga nods. “Well, I say this to every new employee.” His eyes move past Oikawa to the door, and he smiles. “Ah. Your first customer.”
*
Oikawa does make a mistake. It happens when another barista, a tall quiet man named Asahi, takes over the register for him and he goes to make drinks with Suga. He's grinding espresso beans and while trying to transfer them to the espresso machine, trips. The bean powder covers him and Suga and a good part of the counter.
It isn't busy, but Oikawa feels his throat go tight. “Shit,” he hisses, freezing in place for a moment. Should he clean Suga first, or the counter, or himself?
Suga turns to him and says, “I'll take care of the counter. It should come off your apron pretty easily. And if not, you have war stains now!”
“Right.” Oikawa dusts himself off, tries to keep his hands from shaking. Asahi isn't laughing at him. Neither is Suga. They both seem to think that nothing is wrong. Once Oikawa is done, he grinds some more beans and successfully manages to run the espresso machine.
Suga watches as he foams the milk. Oikawa wants to fidget, but he stands still concentrating on not getting boiling milk everywhere. He finishes, pours out enough for a small latte, and Suga hands the cup off.
“Does it bother you?” Oikawa asks.
“What?”
“Having to work with someone who slows you down?”
“Are you talking about you?” Suga shakes his head. “No, it doesn't. We all start somewhere. Do you get upset when you have to teach younger kids volleyball?”
“How do you know I play volleyball?” Oikawa asks.
“Daichi mentioned it,” Suga says. “That you play for your university's team. That's impressive. And you're working in a coffee shop. That's also impressive. Doing something different. Out of your comfort zone.”
Oikawa doesn't quite know how to respond to that. He hadn't thought about it that way. “I need to start making money” He narrows his eyes at Suga. “But how did you know I was teaching kids?”
Suga laughs. “It's on your resume, to show that you're good at working with other people, I assume.”
Oikawa blinks. Iwaizumi had done a lot of editing on his non-resume, and he had forgotten that coaching children was on there. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Suga repeats, and then he winks and turns away.
Oikawa feels calmer now about the coffee, but the wink makes him feel light again.
Suga remains patient with him for the rest of the day, and Oikawa finds that working alongside Suga is calming. By the end of his shift, Oikawa can make most of the drinks on the menu. They may not be the best crafted or best tasting, but he can stand on his own two feet.
“You're a quick learner,” Suga tells him as he hangs up his apron. “I'm looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow.”
“Really?” Oikawa asks.
“Well, we've been short on people lately,” Suga says, “and I'm a full time employee so I'm usually here when no one else is. But now that I have you covering some of the shifts that others can't, I feel good.”
“Well then, I'll see you tomorrow.” Oikawa smiles at him. It's more genuine than the smile he gave Suga in the morning.
He feels exhausted from his first day as he walks home. It's a different exhaustion than the exhaustion from volleyball. This comes from being tense, trying to make sure the milk is foamed right and the espresso is pulled for the right amount of time and dealing with other people all day. It's hard work even if it isn't so phsycially demanding.
But oddly, he is looking forward to going back. He feels less nervous now. And he wonders if it's because he has someone like Suga watching his back.
*
Oikawa's second shift is going almost too well until after lunch, when his greatest enemy walks into the cafe and looms over the register.
“Ushiwaka,” Oikawa growls, teeth bared, hands curling into fists. He wants to tell Suga to take the order of this monster of a human being, but there are only two of them in the cafe at the moment and Suga is making drinks.
Accepting his fate, Oikawa trudges to the register, forces his most terrifying grin onto his face, and looks Ushiwaka in the eye. “What can I get for you?”
“Oikawa-san,” Ushiwaka says, his deep voice a bit too loud for Oikawa's liking. “I was not aware that you worked here.”
“Some of us have to make money, right?” Oikawa says. “What can I get you?”
“Surely you should use this time to practice,” Ushiwaka says.
“I practice enough,” Oikawa says.
“Is your team actually on a break?” Ushiwaka asks, as if the idea astounds him.
“Yes. It's off-season. What do you want?”
Ushiwaka seems to get the hint, finally, and says, “I would like a large mocha, with heavy whipping cream instead of milk.”
“Whipped cream on top?”
“No. Heavy whipping cream in the place of milk. The liquid. No whipped cream on top.”
Oikawa blinks. “What?”
“Ah,” Suga appears next to Oikawa, plucking the cup from his hands. “I'll take care of that.”
“Take care to make sure the heavy cream foams properly,” Ushiwaka tells him. “I have been to many places who can't get this right.”
“I'll try my best,” Suga says with a bright smile.
Oikawa takes Ushiwaka's money and watches as Ushiwaka heads to the other end of the counter. He looms over Suga and Oikawa feels bad, because he doesn't know a lot about coffee, but he knows that asking for heavy whipping cream to be foamed is really strange.
He sidles up next to Suga and murmurs, “Can you even foam heavy whipping cream?”
“It's difficult,” Suga says as he pours the thick cream into a metal pitcher, sounding for once a bit strained. “We usually do half-and-half and that's as far as most people go. This is very thick.”
It looks thick. Oikawa wonders if this sort of thing can break the steaming machine. He doesn't want to think about it, but he watches with a horrified sort of fascination as Suga somehow, over the course of the next few minutes, manages to force the heavy whipping cream to both get warm and then foam. It seems to require a lot of movement on Suga's part of the pitcher, up and down. Oikawa has never seen Suga so intense before, eyes narrowed in concentration, mouth set in a thin line. Finally, he pours the cream into the cup, places the lid over it, and hands it to Ushiwaka.
Ushiwaka takes a sip and stands there for a moment. Oikawa feels like he'll punch Ushiwaka if he insults Suga's drink-making skills, especially since it was a pretty disgusting drink to order. Oikawa has his sweet-tooth moments but even he wouldn't think of ordering something so horrific.
After what seems like forever, Ushiwaka murmers, “This is satisfactory. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Suga says, sounding relieved.
“Have a good day.”
Then he's gone, and Suga's shoulders fall. Oikawa realizes he'd been tense this whole time, and he has the strange urge to squeeze Suga's arm and tell him that he did well.
Instead he stays silent until Suga asks, “Who was that?”
Oikawa sighs, loud and long. “That is Ushijima Wakatoshi, my greatest volleyball rival. His team always beats me, but one day I'll beat him. And now, it seems, he's also my most evil coffee enemy, because he wants the most difficult drink.”
Suga stares at him for a second and then doubles over laughing. Oikawa frowns at him. Suga uses the counter to balance, to straighten up, still shaking with silent giggles. “I-I'm sorry. That was so dramatic. Do you need to defeat him here, too?”
“I'll show you,Suga-san,” Oikawa says, “Next time he comes in here, I'll make that drink and he'll like it.”
“I'm sure you will,” Suga says, “but you're still only two days in. And do you even know how I made that?”
Oikawa looks away. “No,” he admits.
“I'll show you,” Suga says. “But only after you go a full shift without needing to remake a drink.”
Oikawa stares at him. “You are cruel!”
Suga smiles. “I'm just making sure you master the basics before you move onto your greatest challenge.”
“Fine.” Oikawa stands a bit straighter, placing his hands on his hips. “It's a deal.”
*
Even though Suga is his supervisor, when working with him Oikawa feels like his equal. Even though he knows less, has been there for very little time, Suga treats him almost like a friend.
The hardest thing about working with Suga, if Oikawa is being honest with himself, is watching Suga work. Because not only is Suga really good at making coffee, but he looks at home doing it and when he does something about him seems to...blossom.
Oikawa isn't one for metaphors, especially flower metaphors, but he feels like 'blossom' is the word that describes Suga making coffee. Maybe it's because Suga seems completely confident in what he's doing, his movements practiced, his eyes intense on the cup, pale hands stained in some places with coffee remnants, mole stark against his cheek.
Okay, so the mole has nothing to do with how Suga makes coffee, but it's cute. Like Suga's smile. Not that Oikawa has been thinking about these things when he's supposed to be concentrating on learning how to make a perfect cup of coffee. He's just observant, and these are things he notices.
Why coffee? Oikawa wants to ask, but he doesn't because he feels like it's rude somehow. There are other people who work in the cafe who are like him, university students looking to make extra money. Some of them even enjoy coffee. Then there's Sawamura-san, who owns the place despite being so young. Suga seems to be the only full-time barista, and he looks like he's Oikawa's age as well.
Oikawa's first week ends, and Ushiwaka comes in twice more asking for his horrifying drink. Not a day goes by where someone doesn't want Oikawa to remake an order because he made a mistake somehow, and each time a cup is handed back to him he feels a pang in his chest because he hasn't done well enough. But each time, Suga tells him it's okay, as if he knows Oikawa needs to know that. By the time the week ends, Oikawa only has one drink returned and the pang in his chest is less strong. His hands don't shake as he remakes the drink, and he even manages to smile at the customer as he apologizes for getting their order wrong.
He has two days off and practice with Iwaizumi, who asks him about the job.
“It's fine,” Oikawa says. “I'm surprised I like it as much as I do. But did you know that one of our regulars is Ushiwaka?”
Iwaizumi laughs. “Of course Ushijima would get coffee at the place that you work.”
“You don't seem to feel sorry for me, Iwa-chan.”
“I don't. It's hilarious.”
Oikawa swats him on the arm, and Iwaizumi only laughs harder.
*
On Monday, Oikawa doesn't have a single drink returned.
“If you want to stay after for a little bit,” Suga says, “I'll show you how to make that guy's drink.”
Oikawa nods, and they spend the next half hour cleaning and locking up before they meet back behind the counter. Suga has heavy whipping cream set out next to two metal pitchers.
He places his hands on his hips and says, “Now, I'm not going to lie to you. This drink is hard. Harder than the other drinks you've made. But I think you can do it, because you're determined.”
“Did you practice before Ushiwaka came in?” Oikawa asks. “Had you heard from the other baristas that he was ordering this kind of thing?”
Suga shakes his head and gives Oikawa a sly grin. “No. That was the first time I've made it.”
Oikawa is impressed. He doesn't say it, but Suga looks at him like he can see it on Oikawa's face. Oikawa steps closer. “So what's your secret, Suga-chan?”
Suga's lips twitch at Oikawa's addition of -chan. “You need to aerate it. A lot. Be patient with it. It isn't going to foam as quickly as normal milk. You have to remember that it's not milk.”
“Right,” Oikawa says. “Let me try.”
Suga hands him a pitcher and the carton of heavy whipping cream. Oikawa pours the amount used for a large drink, starts up the steaming wand, and sticks it in. The first time, he leaves it in too long and starts to smell burning.
There's no foam.
Suga doesn't say anything, just takes the pitcher to wash it out and tells Oikawa to try again.
It should be intimidating, trying to foam this strange concoction with Suga standing right next to him, occasionally murmuring advice on when to move the pitcher along the steaming wand. Oikawa notices that Suga's hands twitch every time he gives a direction, like he wants to touch Oikawa's hands and guide them, but then stops himself.
Oikawa wouldn't mind having his hands guided by Suga.
He doesn't let that thought trip him up. Four tries in, and a lot of burnt whipping cream later, he has a passably foamed pitcher.
“Now drink in celebration!” Suga says.
Oikawa stares at him, horrified, then turns around and dumps the contents of the pitcher down the sink.
“Fair,” Suga laughs. “I can't imagine anyone else besides—what did you call him? Ushiwaka? I can't imagine anyone else ordering that and actually drinking it. It sounds like a bad dare.”
“He's disgusting,” Oikawa says. “I'll give him his disgusting mocha and he'll look me in the eye as he drinks it and like it.”
Suga laughs again. “You know, most baristas get revenge on customers they don't like by making a drink badly.”
“I'm more subtle than that,” Oikawa declares. “Besides, it can't be good for him.”
Suga hums. “No, it can't. I guess you're playing the long game.” He taps his fingers on the counter. “And I guess it's time to go home. Daichi wouldn't be happy with us staying so late.”
“It's for a good cause,” Oikawa says.
“True.” Suga shrugs off his apron and hangs it up. Oikawa does the same, turns to leave, but Suga taps him on the shoulder. “Hey, if Ushiwaka is satisfied with your drink, I'll make you coffee.”
Oikawa scoffs. “Is that supposed to be a prize of some kind?”
“You've never had my coffee,” Suga says. “We could enjoy a cup together in celebration after we close. Of course,” he shifts on his feet, “if you want something else I can think of something else. Maybe something to do with volleyball...”
“That sounds good,” Oikawa says, his cheeks feeling warm. “The coffee. I'm looking forward to it.”
“You haven't succeeded yet!” Suga points out.
“Do you want me to succeed or not?” Oikawa asks.
Suga laughs. “I want you to succeed. Only because if you don't you'll probably end up sulking on the job.”
*
The next day Ushiwaka comes in after the lunch rush and Oikawa is ready. If he's being truthful with himself, he's looking beyond the actual making of the drink to the end of the shift. Coffee with Suga. He knows it isn't anything special. They both work in the coffee shop. It's convenient. But he's still looking forward to it, almost more than he's looking forward to the idea of Ushiwaka having to admit that Oikawa made a good drink.
Iwaizumi would berate him for not focusing on the task at hand, but it's hard when Suga keeps humming to himself. He does that often, but today it's more noticeable. Oikawa wonders if Suga ever sings when he has the cafe to himself. Suga sounds like he might have a nice singing voice.
Then Ushiwaka comes in, and Oikawa cracks his knuckles. He's in the game.
Suga takes the register this time and Oikawa doesn't miss the look of surprise Ushiwaka gives him when Oikawa takes the cup and heads over to the espresso machines. He doesn't forget to the put the chocolate sauce and espresso into the cup (something he'd been worried about, since he'd been focusing so much on the foaming process) and then he breaks out the heavy cream. He pours it into the pitcher, and now he can feel Ushiwaka's eyes on him from across the counter. Judging him.
Oikawa pretends that Suga's hands are guiding his own. He copies the movements Suga had showed him the few times he'd made the drink, thinks about Suga's directions in his head, and soon the heavy whipping cream foams and he pours it into the cup, grimacing as he does. Then he pops a lid over the whole thing and hands it off to Ushiwaka.
“Enjoy!”
Ushiwaka takes it. Takes a sip without moving. Oikawa watches him, customer service smile still plastered on his face. He might be showing some teeth. Ushiwaka lowers the cup, stares at Oikawa, and says, “This is satisfactory. Thank you.” And then he walks away.
“He could at least smile,” Oikawa scoffs.
Suga claps his hand on Oikawa's arm, and Oikawa yelps. “Sorry!” Suga pulls his hand away. “Sometimes I get a little too excited. But you did it! He liked it!”
“I did.” Oikawa grins. “And now you have to have coffee with me.”
“Don't make it sound like a chore, Tooru,” Suga says. “I'm actually excited.”
You are? Oikawa wants to ask, but Suga's attention gets caught by another customer. Oikawa can hardly concentrate the rest of the afternoon. Suga is excited.
Suga is excited to have coffee with him.
*
“You know he'll be back. This won't be the last time he'll order that drink.”
Suga sets two cups of coffee, both vanilla lattes, on the table and slides into the seat across from Oikawa. He takes his cup in his hands, blows lightly over the foam and then brings the cup to his mouth to take a sip.
“But now we can share the burden,” Oikawa says. “Or, we can make it badly so that he moves on to another cafe.”
“He'd probably get suspicious,” Suga says, lowering the cup, “considering we've both managed to make it for him.”
“True.” Oikawa lifts up his own cup and takes a sip. The taste is so comforting that he closes his eyes without meaning to. The light sweetness of the vanilla underlining the coffee, the smooth warm texture of foam. It feels like being hugged. This is a cup of things Oikawa would come back to over and over again if he wanted to feel at ease.
He opens his eyes.
Suga watches him, biting his lip. “Do you like it?” His voice is softer than normal.
Oikawa nods. “I love it. How do you do that?” His own words are softer than he meant them to be.
Suga's expression brightens. “I just make it in a way that I think will make other people happy. Maybe sweeter for some, or less hot for others, just little things. Making sure the espresso isn't bitter. Coffee doesn't have to be bitter, you know. I've learned to figure out what people like and how to make it taste the best for each of them. It's a small thing to add to someone's day, but it's still something that can make them happy.”
“You make coffee because you want to make people happy?” Oikawa asks.
“I suppose so,” Suga says. “I enjoy it. I didn't know what I wanted to do before. I was, well, a mess to be honest and Daichi was opening up this business and decided to help me out.”
“You feel like you owe him,” Oikawa says, frowning.
“He would never make me feel that way,” Suga says. “I'm thankful, but I genuinely love my job. It was the first time I ever felt useful and...happy with my life, I guess. I want to stay.”
“That's how I feel about volleyball,” Oikawa says. “It's what I'm best at. Although,” he glances around, “this place isn't so bad. I didn't think I would fit in anywhere else.”
“Cafes are the sort of places where most people fit in,” Suga says with a soft smile. Oikawa smiles back, and for a moment they just sit there in silence, mugs cupped in hands.
Oikawa wants to kiss him. But instead he looks down at his cup and finds that he's finished his drink.
Suga pushes back from the table and stands with a sigh. “It's probably time to go. Like I said, Daichi doesn't want people staying too late.”
Oikawa catches Suga by the arm as he starts towards the counter. “What if I want to stay late?” he asks.
Suga half-turns to him. “Why would you?”
Oikawa isn't sure how to respond. His throat feels incapable of making sound. But Suga is right there, biting his lip, so Oikawa leans forward and kisses him. Kisses him, soft and brief, and then pulls away.
Suga's eyes go wide, his cheeks dusted pink. Then he says, “I think it's against the rules to date your co-workers.”
Oikawa blinks. “What?” he manages to choke out.
Suga laughs. “I'm kidding. But if you want to, we can...try this? I'd like to get to know you more. And...I like you.”
“I like you,” Oikawa says. He can feel his own cheeks turning too warm, possibly too pink.
Suga smiles and turns over the empty cup in his hands. “Then how about we go to dinner?”
“I'd like that.”
“After we clean these.”
“Can't that wait until the morning?” Oikawa follows Suga behind the counter. “I'm hungry, Suga-chan.”
“I'm the one who'll get stuck with the extra washing!” Suga starts rinsing the cup out in the sink, and Oikawa does what he's wanted to do for the better part of the past week. He wraps his arms around Suga from behind and rests his chin on Suga's shoulder.
And it feels good. Comforting. Oikawa is at ease, and he's happy. For once, he's happy with something that isn't volleyball.
It doesn't matter that he gets teased by Iwaizumi later that night. (“Of course you would start dating your co-worker, Flirtykawa!”) He's thankful that he hasn't spent the summer just playing volleyball.
Because then, he wouldn't have met Suga.