Work Text:
On December 29th, 2022, which was a grey, rainy Tuesday afternoon the week before finals, Megumi Fushiguro stepped into the campus bookstore to cram for his philosophy exam.
Of course, Yuji only knew his name and major because he saw them on the honor roll, but nonetheless, the thought slipped through his head and was gone just as quickly as it came.
He busied himself with drizzling mocha syrup onto the current customer's order and pretended to not see the dark-haired student enter.
As for Megumi, all he knew about the pink-haired barista was that his last name was Itadori-not even his first name-and that he specialised in sports medicine and socialising, which tended to include trying to strike up conversation with anyone and everyone. Including Megumi himself.
Over the past couple of weeks, he'd learned that he did not like conversing with people. He'd also learned that the hard way.
So today, Megumi was careful to not make eye contact with Itadori as he quickly made his way to his single-person booth in the corner of the shop. He wasn't sure when he'd started calling it his booth, but he liked having a destined spot to return to day after day.
The spot was pressed up against the windows and provided him with a fantastic panorama of the rain soaking the world outside. To Megumi, it was actually a pretty great booth, except it was never occupied.
He'd noticed that most people who came to the cafe had brought friends or classmates along with them to study. These days, no one seemed to ever be alone except him.
Yuji on the other hand, was determined to change that. Despite his customer's moody demeanor, he had a goal, and that was to provide him with a friend. The friend being himself.
He was startled out of his thoughts as a perky freshman girl approached the counter with a honey sweet smile on her face. Yuji suppressed a sigh. This girl had been bothering him all week, and he was kind of sick of it.
He'd had a classmate sarcastically tell him that his supposed good looks were practically begging for attention, but he wasn't asking to be harassed just because he liked to look put together when he was working.
But he plastered on a smile and met her gaze calmly. Yuji internally rolled his eyes when the girl's face flushed. He forced out a "Hey, can I take your order?"
The girl's ears were red where they peeked out the top of her scarf, but her lips curled up in a sly smile. That's a huge scarf for such a little person. "Do you know my usual?"
So that's how it's gonna be.
Yuji frowned. The girl had only started showing up consistently for the past couple of days. He'd didn't know her name, much less her usual order. So he flashed her an apologetic look and took his best guess.
Blonde, huge scarf, black leggings, tote bag... she's put together as well. A matcha, definitely. Maybe with that strawberry cream we restocked on.
"A matcha?" he tried.
The girl's face lit up.
Shit, I actually guessed right? Now she definitely won't leave me alone.
"Yeah, with that lavender foam you guys have!" Oh. Lavender. That's fine, I guess.
As Yuji punched the order into the register, the girl tucked a strand of curled hair behind her ear. "I can't believe you remembered," she said softly. She batted long lashes up at him expectantly, as if waiting for a reply.
Yuji didn't care enough to give her one. His attention was fixed on the spiky-haired student situated in the single-person window booth that no one ever sat in because they were always studying with other people.
"Hey, Mr. Barista," the girl pressed on. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
Not that question again.
From Megumi's view from his corner booth, he spotted the girl out of the corner of his eye, but only turned his head when he noticed the neutral expression on Itadori's face.
He never took on that blank expression unless he was unhappy. A neutral face for Itadori was like a scowl for normal people, and Megumi felt a surge of surprise that he had noticed such things.
He considered his options. He could stay put and continue writing down his lecture notes, though his left hand was already starting to cramp from jotting down so many theories. Or, he could get up, finally go take his order, and save Itadori from that annoying girl.
Megumi decided on the latter. Turns out there was still a bit of empathy left in him.
He quickly rubbed his eyes (though he doubted that would do anything to help with the obvious dark circles that were most definitely there) and walked stiffly to the counter, clutching his phone in a white-knuckled grip.
The girl had finished paying, yet she still stood in front of the register, looking up at Itadori like he owed her something.
Wow. Itadori was actually pretty tall. Based on Megumi's own height of 175 cm, he guessed the barista was at least 173. But he cast that observation aside as he sidled up to the girl, purposefully moving into her personal space so that she'd scoot aside.
"You don't?" the girl was saying excitedly. "Then can I get your num-"
Megumi met the barista's gaze, which was narrowed on the screen in front of him like he wanted to dive into it. "Can I get my usual, Itadori?"
His eyes instantly brightened. "Yeah, of course." He flashed a regretful glance at the girl, whose face also instantly fell. "Sorry, I'll take care of the current customer first."
"Maybe some other day, then," the girl replied with a small smile. Her eyes were watering. Megumi was sure she was about to be crying as soon as she got home, but he decided to not mention that to Itadori.
When she'd finally picked up her drink-a lavender foam matcha, really?-and left the shop, Megumi could practically feel the tension leave Itadori. He remained standing in front of the counter to wait for his order, which was unusual for him; he'd typically escape back to his booth and study some more, but today he'd reached a good stopping point before decided to save Itadori from that blonde pest.
Soon enough, Itadori capped a steaming cup of black coffee and set it on the counter in front of Megumi. It was then he realized that he hadn't even paid, but as he reached for his card, Itadori shook his head.
"On the house. Thanks for saving my ass back there."
"She's been coming the past couple of days, right? I've seen her talking to you."
"Yeah." Itadori's eyebrows furrowed. "She asked if I had a girlfriend today, and when I said no she asked for my number." He winced, as if recalling the moment.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have said no to having a girlfriend," Megumi replied.
Itadori's face twisted. "But I don't like to lie. Honesty's one of my core principles."
"Ah." Megumi realized his hands were starting to get cold in the strong air conditioning, and he wondered why the shop owner would turn the heat so low in the middle of December. He reached for his coffee, but Itadori beat him to it, placing the cup straight into his hands.
Megumi felt his fingers brush against Itadori's and flinched, feeling a flush creep up his neck. Shit. I'm no better than that girl. He muttered a "thanks" and returned to his table as quickly as he could.
Little did he know, Yuji had noticed. He'd noticed everything, from the way he started fidgeting when Yuji looked at him and that little jump he did when their hands brushed against each other. He actually thought it was kind of cute. Completely different from the cool and collected Fushiguro that usually came to the shop.
And it's something I'd definitely like to see more of, he mused. Was he making Fushiguro as nervous as he was making Yuji? He glanced toward the corner booth at the dark-haired student, currently hunched over his notebook, scribbling something down, coffee untouched.
Come on, Fushiguro, try the damn drink! He'd actually added a small pump of spiced gingerbread syrup to his regular black coffee. The first time Fushiguro had ordered, Yuji had nearly gasped when he heard the words "classic black coffee" leave his mouth.
"No sugar, creamer, anything?" he'd asked incredulously.
"Just plain, thanks." Then he'd returned to his table, opened his laptop, and started typing.
This time, Yuji was tenaciously set on introducing Fushiguro to the wonders of adding flavor to his drinks. He'd actually pestered him for a straight half hour the week before before he coaxed his favorite food out of him: anything that paired well with ginger.
So as he watched Fushiguro today, shooting the blonde girl a nasty look as she left the store, his heart had warmed, just as if he'd drank some ginger spiced coffee himself. When he was sure his customer wasn't looking, he'd crept over to the syrups and squeezed a small pump into his boring, plain black coffee.
He'd also drawn something special on the cup, but he wanted to wait until Fushiguro noticed it himself. He took his place behind the counter and began organizing the cups again.
Across the cafe, Megumi finally tore his attention away from his slide deck and studied the cup of coffee before him. Wait. What?
On the cup, where the usual sticker label was supposed to be, Itadori had drawn two small dogs with a Sharpie, one black, one white. Next to that, the word "thanks" was scrawled in messy penmanship, accompanied by a small smiley face.
He remembered my dogs... but I brought them here so long ago... It had been at least two weeks ago that he'd been spotted by Itadori while he was walking his dogs outside the store. He was then ushered inside because the barista wanted to pet them. Go figure. He liked them a lot, anyways.
But he wasn't truly surprised until he actually took a drink of the coffee and nearly choked. Whatever it was, it wasn't his usual order, yet Megumi still took another tentative sip. Yes, it was black coffee, but there was a kick to it, like the spiciness of ginger.
He actually... really liked it. When it was plain, it was refreshing, and Megumi enjoyed drinking things that didn't include too many complicated ingredients-ahem, lavender foam matcha-but there was something Itadori had put into his order today that instantly warmed his body.
Huh. Maybe it was ginger after all.
But how'd he know that he liked ginger? Oh, that was it. Itadori had harassed him about his favorite food the week before. But he remembered? Thought he was asking for fun.
He then immediately darted a glance toward the counter, and startled when he realized Itadori was already staring at him. The barista leaned his arms on the counter, cocked his head to the side, a lopsided smile on his lips, and motioned to Megumi's cup.
Megumi slowly smiled back. He pointed to his coffee and gave Itadori a thumbs up.
Itadori then gave him a huge grin, pumping a fist. It was then that Megumi noticed, from all the way across the cafe, a small scar by the corner of the barista's mouth. Wonder where he got that from. But it was a scar in a way that was pleasing to look at, though Megumi would never truly admit it to himself.
He held his coffee in his hands and tried not to blush at the barista's blinding smile.
Yet as Megumi pulled his navy scarf around his shoulders to hide his burning face, Yuji chuckled to himself and approached the dark-haired student's table. He had an idea, but he wanted to make sure Fushiguro was alright with it first.
So he strolled over to the corner booth and leaned on the edge of the table as Fushiguro was scribbling down some sort of archaic theory that made him glad he didn't take philosophy. Oh, he's left handed. He seems like one, too. His handwriting was precise and small as well, kind of like a human typewriter.
"Hey, Fushiguro," he said.
The student looked up and immediately tugged that cute navy scarf tighter around his neck. And before Yuji could stop himself, he was reaching out, and caught Fushiguro's hand with his own. Now it was his turn to blush.
"Don't choke yourself," he mumbled. "You have exams next week."
Fushiguro nodded mutely.
"Oh, and I wanted to ask you," Yuji started. "What time are you planning on leaving the store?"
Megumi was confused. What was he doing? But he answered honestly. "Just after I summarise this last slide. I'm almost done."
Yuji felt his face fall. "Ah, I see."
Megumi stared at him expectantly. He obviously had something else to say. "Uh, did you want to tell me something?"
"I was wondering if you'd stay for the social this evening. It starts in around half an hour and goes till eleven."
Megumi checked his phone. 07:03 pm.
Before Fushiguro could object, Yuji continued. "I know you don't like places to have too many people, so while the crowd is up front we can go to the back where the books are and I can bring a speaker to play music or something." Shit, I'm rambling. Why can't I act normal around him?
Megumi felt his mouth open. "I, uh-" his voice cut off. "I'm free all evening." He turned his head away.
"So you'll stay?" Megumi saw Itadori's face light up.
"Sure. Thanks for remembering the no-crowds thing."
"You bet," Itadori said, grinning. "I'm gonna go set up now, you can keep summarising your flashcards or whatever."
Megumi smiled back.
But before the barista truly walked away, he turned around one last time. "You've got nice handwriting, Fushiguro. Maybe you could help do the notes on the cups sometime."
Megumi's ears were red, he was sure of it. He'd never received this much praise from a single person, and he kind of liked it.
Oh, screw the slides.
He shut his laptop, closed his notebook and focused on enjoying the coffee in front of him.
~
The cafe was soon filled with the sound of voices competing for attention as students filed in for the social. And per usual, no one approached the corner booth.
Megumi was safe. For now. But as more and more people entered, the cold room started to get stuffy, and he opened his laptop again to distract from the headache slowly forming behind his eyes.
But his gaze quickly strayed from the screen to the pink-haired barista laughing and busying himself behind the counter. Why'd he even invite me to this thing? There's so many other people he can talk with.
He still had a bit left of his coffee, and he downed it in two gulps despite it cooling down already. Now it was a welcome relief from the heat of too many bodies in too small of a store.
After another ten minutes, Megumi thought about leaving. It would be easy to slip through the mob and out the door, but he pictured the hurt expression that would be on Itadori's face-or worse: the neutral one- and remained sitting at the booth, watching the rapidly darkening sky outside.
Another ten minutes passed. This time he was set on leaving. Megumi packed up his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and rose from the booth. He was just about to reach for the door handle when a hand grabbed his arm.
Yuji had seen him get up, and an internal panic washed over him. He hadn't expected so many people to come, and he hadn't had a free moment since when the event started. He felt a rush of burning guilt that he had to make Fushiguro wait so long.
"You weren't about to leave, were you, Fushiguro?"
The dark-haired student's pale face flushed. "No... of course not." He shifted the backpack on his shoulders.
"Uhuh," he laughed. "Not on my watch, though." Yuji pulled him away from the door gently and met his eyes. He was a little taller than him, he realized. "I'm really sorry about making you wait. I didn't expect there to be so many people who heard about this, but business flow is pretty light now. Let me grab snacks and my speaker, we can go to the back now."
Megumi was shocked. He seemed so sincere, and genuinely apologetic that business was doing well. "Okay," he replied.
"Wait here," Itadori said. He ducked behind the counter and returned with a small Bluetooth speaker and a plastic bag full of senbei, a popular rice cracker snack. "Alright, follow me, Fushiguro."
Megumi forced his feet to move as the barista strolled toward the back of the store toward the bookshelves that were already darkened in the dim lighting. "Sorry it looks a bit shady, let me get the lights." But when Itadori flicked a switch, countless fairy lights blinked the life, strung across the ceiling, the bookshelves, everything, casting a warm glow across the room.
"This is nice," Megumi said. Itadori pulled him over to an aisle at the very back labeled History.
"This is my favorite place in the store," the barista said softly. He took a seat on the floor and leaned against a shelf, gesturing for Megumi to join him.
Megumi settled down next to him, making sure the gap between them wasn't too close or too far. "It's pretty."
So are you, Yuji thought. The way the light speckled across Fushiguro's green eyes made them shine and sparkle and truly feel alive.
He opened the bag of senbei and offered it to Fushiguro. "Here. Take some."
Megumi accepted the bag and took a cracker, studying it in the light. Itadori offered him a wide smile and turned on the Bluetooth speaker, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
"What do you like to listen to?"
"Usually jazz when I study."
"Oh!" Yuji pulled up his Spotify and scrolled through his liked songs, pausing at one he thought Fushiguro would like. Cherry Wine by grentperez; it was a song he'd found in a recommended track, smooth and soft, with a light bossa nova beat in the background.
He pressed play and leaned his head back against the shelves. "Have you heard this one before?"
"No. It sounds good."
And to Megumi's immense surprise, Itadori began to sing.
"Why you standing all by yourself? Those shoes were made for dancing with someone else." His voice was low and smooth and startlingly on pitch. Why doesn't he sing more often? Megumi found himself wondering.
Yuji stood and extended a hand to Fushiguro, who was slack jawed for some unknown reason. He continued with the song lyrics: "Why don't we move over to that empty space?" He gestured to the rest of the empty aisle. "I bet you twenty bucks I'll put a smile on your face."
"Itadori, are you asking me to dance?"
The barista nodded, smirking. "Don't say you can't dance, because I can't either."
Megumi took his hand and sucked in a breath as he was pulled to his feet like he weighed practically nothing. Itadori pulled him close to his chest and raised their clasped hands up into the air swaying to the slow beat of the song.
It was all at once incredibly cringey yet also remarkably sweet, and Megumi couldn't get enough of it. They shuffled this way and that, only separating once when Itadori bumped into a shelf.
As Cherry Wine continued to play, Megumi glanced at Itadori, and smiled softly.
Yuji internally pumped a fist. "Can I have my twenty bucks, Fushiguro?"
"Huh?"
"I bet you twenty bucks I'll put a smile on your face," he sang softly. "I made good on that promise, didn't I? You're smiling."
"Yeah right, Itadori." Megumi felt his face flush. "But thanks, you know."
"For what?"
He thought for a moment, resting his head on Itadori's chest. Suddenly, a specific lyric from the song popped up into his head. "For making the world spin slower."
"You memorised the lyrics that quickly?"
And of course Yuji saw right through it. That was his favourite lyric as well, performed slowly and surely, as if really making sure the listener had an eternity to enjoy themselves.
A warm feeling spread through his body like he was dosed with three cups of gingerbread syrup.
Fushiguro nodded. "What can I say? It's a good song."
Yuji paused, and let go of Fushiguro's hands only to reach for the phone and set the song to repeat indefinitely. "Since you liked it," he told him, intertwining their fingers once again.
Megumi looked down and smiled almost uncontrollably. The first ever time he ever held someone's hand, and had to be Itadori's. But he was happy with that fact. Gender and all that nonsense had never bothered him, but he hoped it was the same for the barista.
"I don't know your name," he suddenly said as they sat down again, side by side, much closer this time.
Itadori tilted his head. Like a dog, Megumi thought. Adorable.
"Your first name," he clarified.
"Oh! I'm Yuji. Yuji Itadori."
"Yuji Itadori. Nice to officially meet you, I guess." Megumi leaned his head back.
"Right back at you, Megumi Fushiguro." Yuji chuckled as Fushiguro's eyes went wide. "You were at the top of the honor roll, how could I not know your name?"
The dark-haired boy set his lips in a pout. "Are you sure you're not stalking me? I'm not a very interesting pers-"
His voice cut off abruptly as Yuji leaned over his body and let his face hover right over Megumi's. "Maybe you think you're not interesting, but I'm willing to make it my lifelong goal to prove you wrong."
Megumi felt his heart thump in his chest. His breathing quickened. "That'd be a pretty lost cause, though..."
Was he egging Yuji on? He wasn't sure. But he held his breath as the pink-haired barista lowered his face even closer. "Will you let me try?"
Yuji was careful to leave a breadth of space between their lips, just in case Megumi changed his mind last minute. Their breaths mingled in the air, tinged with the sweetness of the rice crackers.
Then, slowly, softly, Megumi tilted his head up, and pressed his lips to Yuji's in a way that made time seem to freeze. The bustling of the crowd from the front of the store ceased to exist. All Megumi's overstimulated brain could process were the fairy lights still twinkling above and the sweetness of Yuji's lips.
He then reached up with his hands and wound his arms around Yuji's neck, pulling him closer. A soft sigh escaped through his lips as-yes, he was willing to admit it-he realized that he was making out with his local barista at the back of the bookstore.
Inexplainably, he also didn't care.
And as Cherry Wine filled the background with an atmosphere of calm, Megumi had a sudden longing for this moment to last forever, and he smiled against Yuji's lips when he realized the pink-haired barista might actually have the ability to make the world spin slower. Especially for him.