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The first of October, Bakugou goes to the coffee shop.
He’s greeted with, “So I think I have a stalker.”
“That’s great, fucker. That’s my seat.”
“Kacchan!”
“Shut up.” Bakugou shoves Midoriya further along the bench and crashes down on the seat. He closes his eyes, hearing the rhythmic sound of people typing on laptops, writing on notebooks, orders being called out, milk being steamed—He takes a deep breath of the air, rich with baked goods and espresso. “Home sweet home.”
Coffee Mugger – a café favoured by university students for its cheap prices, constant buzz, and being open twenty-four hours. Also because a month ago someone actually got mugged in the café and people with a shitty sense of humour (students) found it ironically funny.
Home sweet motherfucking home.
Midoriya moves his notebooks and stuff over, pouting. “Aren’t you at least worried about me?”
“What?” Bakugou glares daggers at him. “Deku, your life’s always a mess. You’ll be fine.”
“That’s true.” Midoriya nods slowly. “I ordered for you, by the way.”
Bakugou’s glare turns sharper and he mumbles something that could potentially sound like a thank you if it came from someone else, and then he pulls out his own notebooks. “The fuck are you studying?”
“Oh, uh, my ocean sciences course.” Midoriya smiles as he turns to him. “I was actually thinking about you when I was studying it! Because, uh, well. Salty water sinks in fresh water, and cold water sinks in warm water… so at the bottom of the ocean it’s salty and cold, like you.” Midoriya’s smile brightens. “And so how I remember it is because you’re a salty and cold bottom, so—”
“The fuck!?” Bakugou’s eyes narrow. “Who says I’m a bottom? And I’m not cold or salty—I’m fucking peachy, you rat-ass-looking shit.”
“Kacchan,” Midoriya says with maybe no sense of danger, “Are you jealous because you’ve never had a boyfriend?”
“Fuck you. No, I’m not. And I’m not jealous of you—you’ve been through enough guys to start your own porn studio. Jesus Christ, Deku, you’ve sucked more dicks than I can Google. Alright?”
Midoriya just nods along, small smile on his lips. “Kacchan’s jealous of me. This is new.” He closes his eyes. “I’m going to cherish this feeling.”
“I said fuck you!” he raises his voice, catching the attention of a few other customers. “I’m not—”
“Medium skinny latté for Deku,” calls out the barista in a monotone, “And a large caramel macchiato for Katsuki.” The barista then awkwardly shuffles away, avoiding eye contact.
“Go get it,” Midoriya whispers.
Bakugou blinks. “Eh?”
“I paid for the drinks, so you go get them. That was the rule, right?”
“Yeah but I thought you wanted an excuse to talk to that barista you’re crushing on?”
“Shh!” Midoriya ducks and tries to hide behind Bakugou. “Just. Go get them. Please?”
“Fine.” Bakugou gets up and walks over to the counter. They’re in paper cups and he makes note to yell at Deku for it later. He’s about to grab them, but pauses. Deku’s drink is in a normal paper cup, with a sleeve. His drink, however… “Yo, Half-n-Half!”
Todoroki is steaming milk as he glances sidelong at him.
“Why the fuck did you draw a bunch of cats all over my cup?”
“Wasn’t me,” he murmurs, same boring monotone (why does Deku like him again?). He nudges his head, motioning over to the red haired barista who was now manning the cash register and chatting up a customer. “He spent ten minutes on it.”
“The fuck?”
Todoroki shrugs. “He’s new.”
Bakugou sighs and returns to the table. He gives Midoriya his drink and frowns. “One, if we’re going to stay here say ‘for here’. Paper cups are bad for the environment. Two, don’t give the coffee shop my first name, you dipshit.”
“Ah!” Midoriya tries to laugh it off as he scratches the back of his head. “Sorry Kacchan!” He takes his drink and feels the warmth through the cup. He removes the lid and takes in the scent. “Todoroki always does it right…”
Bakugou sits and pulls out his notebook. Statistics. Great. “You and Half-n-Half not getting along?”
Midoriya gives a little nod, lips pouty.
“Is he your stalker, or is that something else?”
“That’s unrelated. And I don’t know for sure if I have a stalker, but…”
“Jesus Christ.” Bakugou rolls his eyes. “You’re drowning in guys who want you.”
“I don’t think a stalker is generally a plus one…”
“Yeah, well. Fuck you.”
“Kacchan’s jealous of me.” Midoriya closes his eyes, a shimmering smile as bright as the stars in the night sky. “Finally.”
Bakugou smacks the back of his head.
“Ow!”
“Die in a fire.” Bakugou sighs and looks at his cup. “The fuck is all this?”
Midoriya blinks and glances. “Are those cats?”
“Yeah.” Bakugou takes off the sleeve to see more cats under it. There must be at least thirteen cats, all pretty well drawn, all over his cup. He sees, written near the bottom, as if the barista had run out of space, Catsuki. “Are you fucking me right now?”
Midoriya giggles as soon as he reads it – he fucking giggles.
Bakugou wants to punch his fucking teeth out. He snarls and puts the cup down. He glares at the cashier, but finds the chick with the ponytail – the manager, if he remembers right – is there instead. The red haired barista is now with Half-n-Half, making drinks.
The red haired barista glances in his direction.
Bakugou makes eye contact.
The barista smiles wide, showing teeth, and he winks.
The fifth of October, Bakugou returns to the coffee shop.
He’s alone this time. He walks in, eyes his favourite seat to make sure it’s not taken, then lines up. When he gets to the cashier… it’s the red head. He glances to the nametag, Kirishima. He opens his mouth to speak, but—
“Meow!”
“The fuck?” Bakugou stares at him, expecting some kind of reply, but he gets nothing. “For here, a large caramel macchiato. Name’s Bakugou.”
“Alright, Bro.” Kirishima grabs one of the slips they use for ‘for here’ orders and writes it down. “Large caramel macchiato, for Catsuki!”
His right eye twitches.
Kirishima looks up, and smiles an animated smile. “On the house today.”
His teeth are sharp, Bakugou notes that right away: Kirishima’s teeth are really sharp. Bakugou chews out a strangled, “Th-Thanks,” because being nice to the workers here always gets him free shit. He awkwardly walks to his favourite seat and tries to put that social exchange out of his mind.
By the time he gets his notebooks out and his stuff all set up, he hears a monotone, “Bakugou.”
Bakugou looks up to see Todoroki pushing a mug forward. He gets up and takes it, not giving thanks to Half-n-Half because Todoroki always gives them free shit because he’s trying to get into Deku’s pants. Or at least he was before. Deku’s life is a mess, as far as Bakugou’s concerned, so he doesn’t get involved.
He spends the next hour or so studying physics.
He’s undisturbed, until—
“Catsuki!”
His red eyes snap up. “Bakugou,” he corrects.
“Hey, Bud.” Kirishima has a platter of some kind of Danish or something. They’re small pieces, in little white cupcake cups. “Want some free samples?”
There’s only three left, so Bakugou takes all three in hopes of pissing him off.
But Kirishima just laughs. He laughs, throwing his head back and filling the café with the warm sound. He smiles at Bakugou. “You’re cool.”
Bakugou makes some noise, some attempt at starting a sentence, but he pauses.
Kirishima walks away, leaving Bakugou confused.
The eighth of October, Bakugou returns to the coffee shop.
He’s alone this time as well, but Midoriya’s on his way.
When he gets to the register, he sees Todoroki. “Thank fucking God. I never thought I’d look forward to your existence, Half-n-Half.” He doesn’t get a reaction out of Todoroki, and that pisses him off. “The usual: For here, large caramel macchiato – Bakugou – and for here, medium skinny latté, for Deku.”
Todoroki had already begun writing down the order, though he stiffens a little at Midoriya’s nickname.
If Bakugou was a good best friend, this is the part he would ask about them. But he doesn’t. Because he’s an asshole. Bakugou pays then walks to his usual seat. He likes being a piece of shit. Life’s easier that way.
“Yo Catsuki, my man!” Kirishima calls out from the drink's side. “Got your macchiato ready!”
“Oi,” Bakugou yells as he stands up, “You fuck! It’s Bakugou!”
“Meow!”
Bakugou walks up to the counter and slams his hands down on it, face distorting into a scowl. “Listen you little fucking shit,” he hisses, “I don’t know what’s your deal or what’s your problem but unless you want to swallow your own fucking toenails I suggest you stop pissing me off.”
“It’s your name though!” Kirishima smiles. “Cat-suki!” He pauses, then adds the mandatory, “Meow!” He glances to the side. “And there’s your friend. Deku, right?”
Midoriya – who was just walking in – catches the look on Bakugou’s face, and nods. He walks to his seat, silently praying that his best friend doesn’t punch anyone.
“He’s not my friend!” Bakugou snaps, “And stop fucking with the fucking cat shit!”
“What? Why?” Kirishima’s smile drops for a second. “Cats are fucking amazing. They’re total assholes, they knock shit over just because they can, they meow at you endlessly when they want something, they totally invade your life, they’re loud and obnoxious, and when they want your attention you have to pay attention to them.” Kirishima blinks. And then it clicks. “Holy shit. Just like you!”
“What.”
Kirishima smirks again and begins pouring the skim milk into Deku’s mug. “I mean I don’t know—I haven’t seen you around enough to know, but you kind of give off that vibe, you know? It’s cool.”
“Are you comparing me to assholes that knock shit over?”
“Yeah.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrow before darting to the box of napkins. He glances up to Kirishima. Kirishima looks at him. He looks at Kirishima. Trying to hold it in, as much as he could, Bakugou fails: He swipes at the box of napkins, knocking it over, and it makes a loud clatter as it hits the floor, spilling everywhere.
Everyone in the café jumps.
From his right Bakugou hears Todoroki murmur “I’m not picking that up,” while from his left he hears Midoriya yell, “The environment, Kacchan!”
Bakugou stares at Kirishima.
Instead of the expected rage or annoyance, Kirishima laughs. It’s warm and airy, and it makes Bakugou’s chest feel tight. He throws his head back, just like before, and it fills the café. It’s both oppressive, like heavy humidity, but also liberating like a cool summer breeze. Kirishima pushes Deku’s drink forward, still laughing, and then kneels down to pick up the napkins.
Bakugou, feeling his cheeks warm, gets down and helps pick it up. He has to throw out the napkins, and he makes sure to throw them in the recycling. When they’re done, he doesn’t know what to do or what to say, but Kirishima’s looking at him expectantly, and he can’t just leave with the drinks now. “It’s Katsuki, with a ‘K’. Not a ‘C’. So nothing to do with cats. Alright?”
“With a ‘K’?” Kirishima blinks. “Like kitten?”
“Oh my fucking God…”
Kirishima smiles at him, showing those dangerous teeth, and Bakugou snatches the drinks, turning away as he feels his cheeks burn. He’s blushing—he knows he is, and he hates it. But, fuck, that smile. “Oi,” he hisses at Midoriya, “Here’s your fucking drink. Fuck you.”
Midoriya is forcing back a smile as he takes his drink, and then busies himself with his oceanography course.
Bakugou focuses on statistics again, going through the formulas until he feels calmed down enough.
Of course, though… Midoriya must have been born a piece of shit, because he softly says, “So…” in a voice that only means trouble.
Bakugou gives him a sharp sidelong glare in hopes of silencing whatever conversation is about to ensue.
But Midoriya’s known him since they were four, making it almost twenty years. He’s built up resistance, though the glare does still shake him up a bit. “You think he was flirting with you?”
“Eh?” Bakugou was ready to punch his face, but now his glare weakens and he glances back to his notes. Formulas, formulas. “I don’t know… I’m not you, swimming in dick. How the fuck would I know if he’s flirting with me?” He looks at Midoriya, somewhat cautiously. “Do you think he was flirting with me?”
“Kacchan is turning to me for advice.” Midoriya holds up a fist close to his heart and closes his eyes. “I’m going to cherish this.”
“Deku, I’ll break your ugly fucking crab nose in half I swear to God…”
“Okay, okay.” Midoriya opens his eyes and puts his hand down. He looks at Bakugou with a small smile. “From my point of view… it kind of looked like he was flirting with you.”
Bakugou blinks once, twice. He looks around for red hair, but he can’t see him anywhere. He looks back at Midoriya.
“Kacchan… go for it.”
“I don’t… I don’t even know him!”
“Hi!” Kirishima sits across from him. “I’m Eijirou Kirishima, I’m twenty-six years old, I have no idea what I want to do with my life, but I like coffee, people, cats, and manly things like other men and cats—and here’s some free samples.”
“Sh-t-ff.” Bakugou feels his brain shut down and he just scowls at Kirishima. “You… fucking…” He sharpens his glare. “Fuck you!”
Kirishima laughs, then says, “Sorry.” He pushes the small pieces of cookies towards Bakugou. “I’m a pretty forward guy, so I hope you don’t mind.”
“Kacchan likes forward,” Midoriya supplies. “He’s never had a boyfriend before so—”
“Fuck you!” Bakugou snaps his neck towards Midoriya and yells, “I’ll kill you! Just, shut the fuck up! Oh my God, you useless piece of shit, you’re like a pen that doesn’t work I could scratch you on the corner of a page for hours and you won’t fucking piss out blue God damnit Deku just get the fuck out of my life, oh my God! You’re like that sitcom that nobody likes but it always comes on when you’re bored and you’re the only thing to watch and that’s the only God-fucking reason anyone ever pays attention to you, you stupid piece of shit!”
“So.” Kirishima crosses his legs and leans forward. “Want to go on a date?”
“Eh, what?” Bakugou turns to him, cheeks burning, throat feeling tight. There’s this weird fluttery feeling in his stomach, and he kind of feels like he wants to throw up. “No—fuck you. Fuck no. Fucker. Fuck you!”
“Ah, well.” Kirishima shrugs. “Worth a shot.”
Bakugou gapes.
Kirishima’s smile dampens a little, and he scratches the back of his head. He gets up, though, and gives them both extra free samples before he goes off to give the rest out to other customers.
The seventeenth of October, Bakugou returns to the coffee shop.
It’s been nine days.
Midoriya blinks at him. “I thought you said you weren’t coming back.”
“Well, I need to study, and our apartment is messy as fuck.” Bakugou takes out his notebook. He doesn’t have the energy to put up with Midoriya today. “As soon as we’re done our midterms, we’re cleaning that place until it sparkles like a banshee’s ass.”
Midoriya opens his mouth, but then closes it. “So, uh.” He glances to Kirishima. “You and him… You rejected him.”
Bakugou sighs. “What about you and Half-n-Half, huh? I thought you were excited since he’s in all your classes. Now you won’t even look at him.”
“That’s… a long story.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Bakugou looks at his notebook, but the words look fuzzy. “I guess we’re both hopeless.”
“Yeah.” Midoriya sighs, nodding. “Yeah…”
They study for an hour or so.
Midoriya looks up. “I’m gonna get another latté.” He stands. “Want another macchiato? On me.”
“Sure.”
When Midoriya walks away, Bakugou glances up to Kirishima at the register.
Kirishima.
Bakugou’s eyes soften as he examines him.
It’s not just his hair colour that’s loud, he’s loud himself—he’s warm, Bakugou notes. He’s warm. When he talks to people, he’s animated. He talks with his hands, making fist pumps and punching his palm, and when he laughs… it’s like there’s a world out there that Bakugou doesn’t know about, but it’s inviting him in.
Kirishima is like light, Bakugou thinks.
He’s forward when he talks to people, chatting everyone up, usually stumping his conversation partner once or twice with his forwardness; then, he laughs it off to save them the embarrassment, but it doesn’t seem forced. Forward. Yeah. He’s forward when he talks, but he’s not pushy. Not too pushy, anyway. Bakugou can’t stop watching him. Kirishima’s talking to Midoriya now, and he doesn’t even seem bothered when Midoriya starts muttering the endless pros and cons about whether he should buy that cream cheese muffin or not.
As Midoriya pays, Kirishima quickly glances his way.
They make eye contact.
Kirishima offers him a smile.
Bakugou glares and looks at his notebook.
Half an hour later, when Midoriya lines up for the bathroom, Bakugou sees Kirishima stretch as he walks off. He hasn’t taken off his black apron, so Bakugou assumes it’s just his break. He clears his throat. “Yo,” he calls out, “Catfuck.”
Kirishima turns to him, blinking, then he grins. “Hey.”
Bakugou feels his throat tighten.
Kirishima walks over to the table and leans his hands on it. “I was scared you wouldn’t come back, since I might’ve made you uncomfortable by asking you out. I’m, uh. Glad you did!”
Bakugou clenches his jaw.
“Sorry!” Kirishima closes one eye as he scratches the back of his head, letting out a sigh through gritted teeth. “That was probably weird.” He takes his previous pose and smiles. “And unmanly… I just mean… um…”
“Why—” Bakugou begins, and finds it exceedingly hard to continue. “Why do you… like, me?”
“Huh?” Kirishima blinks. “Well… lots of reasons.”
“Like what, Shitface?”
“Well.” Kirishima leans back and hums. “Hm… you’re really rude, kind of like a cat.” He laughs. “But, I don’t know. There’s something… about you. I’m just a people-person, dude. I can get a good grip of someone’s personality right off the bat. I don’t know… you just, kinda remind me of a cat. I know that pisses you off, sorry, sorry, but I don’t know! You’re cute, you’re funny, you’re… kind of a douchebag, but I think I like you.”
“Those…” Bakugou glares. “Are really… shallow, reasons. Aren’t they?”
“Uhhh?” Kirishima tilts his head to one side, then the other. “I don’t know? I mean, maybe? You’ve, uh… never dated before, have you?” He laughs it off before Bakugou feels embarrassed. “I’m not saying I have feelings for you – I’m just saying I’m attracted to you, and your personality. I’d like to get to know you better. That’s all.”
Bakugou says nothing.
Kirishima sighs, and there’s a bit of light that flickers in his eyes before dying out. “Anyway.” He looks down, forcing a smile. He doesn’t show teeth. “Um…”
“Kirishima,” calls out the ponytail manager. “Can you give a hand?”
“I’m on break,” he calls out, then pauses. He sees the lineup and meeps. “Shit. I’ll help!” He turns to Bakugou and smiles. “See you around, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The twenty-first of October, Bakugou returns to the coffee shop.
The cashier, Kirishima this time, looks up and smiles. “Large caramel macchiato for here? And a medium skinny latte for Deku?”
“Yeah, but they’re to-go this time,” he mumbles. His cheeks are already heated up. Fuck. “We’re… uh, cleaning the apartment. Midterm hurdle is over.”
“Aww.” Kirishima pouts. “So I won’t see you as much?”
Bakugou laughs—well, it’s more like a chuckle. His cheeks burn. His mouth feels dry. “A little bit less, until finals. Still got assignments and stuff.”
“Good.” Kirishima writes down the drinks on the paper cups and then passes them along to Todoroki. “Drinks on me, as congrats for surviving midterms.”
Bakugou’s toes clench in his shoes and he swallows hard. “Th-Thanks… Maybe, um.” He coughs. “Maybe sometime, we, uh… could…?” His throat stops, face somewhat distorted. His eyes crinkle in something akin to a frown.
Kirishima’s smile returns, the bright one, bright as the sun, loud as light, with those sharp teeth. “Sure,” he says, saving Bakugou the embarrassment.
Bakugou nods, and then shuffles awkwardly to the pick-up counter. When he gets the drinks, he leaves the store quickly. But, as he’s sipping his drink, he notices something.
Kirishima had only drew one cat, and underneath it was…
A phone number.
Kirishima had written his phone number.
Bakugou looks up to the sky and murmurs (while trying to hide his smile), “Fuck.”