Work Text:
Ah yes- another shift at the coffee shop inherently means interactions with characters you assumed could only exist in nightmares and trashy reality TV. Something, however, needs to pay the bills and only one job simply doesn't cut it anymore. Curse university. With a heavy sigh and even heavier eyebags, you tie up your apron, the pasty orange colour that is supposed to bring a homely warmth now elicits a sickly shudder under your skin. Yet, just before you actually get down to business, you begrudgingly fill up a grande cup with black coffee; even if you don't exactly want it, you make an effort to use your employee merits to your advantage. No, you don't add sugar or creamer. The suffering hits home.
"Excuse me! Right here! Yooo hoo!"
Fuck, it's that stupid guy with the dumb white hair again. Oh, you don't even have to turn around and torture your poor eyes this time, his voice ringing in your ears just like in your bad dreams. The voice belongs to none other than Satoru Gojo- the annoying frat boy a couple dorms down. He disgusts you as much as the next guy. And he's always trying to play some immature sex game? Whatever, your wage is dependent on your patience; you won't have any disposable income at this rate.
"Yes sir? How can I help you?"
Despite being well aware your monotonous voice is what your manager complained about countless times, you just can't help it. It's either this or yelling in the bitch's face.
"Can I get a.... uhhhhh..."
This is like clockwork. Somehow he 'forgets' his order eventhough he been getting the same thing every day since the semester started two weeks ago. You wait, letting him decide.
"Whenever you're ready mister."
"Uhhhh... oh yeah! I'd like a venti iced frappuchino with extra whipped cream and a cherry on top."
"Just like I've told you for the past two weeks, we actually don't do the whole cherry on top thing."
"Awww, come on sweets- you're killing me here."
"And don't call me that, cheers."
Either way, your fingers tap against the cash register with the same derexity as a card shuffler. Sometimes your own muscle memory surprised you.
"That'll be $4.25. Cash or card?"
"Card please, m'lady."
"Again. Don't call me that."
"Sorry."
Listen, you won't lie about the fact he is indeed attractive. Those blue eyes could lure angels in, honestly, and that white hair would make them claim Satoru as one them. Still, something about him is just so grating especially first thing at eight AM. The card reader's desperate beep fills the awkward silence, the young man clearing his throat.
"So uh... you go to my college right?"
"Yeah, sadly I do."
"I found out you work here."
"Of course you did."
You are entirely aware of how uncooperative you are being in this conversation, you have been blessed with a decent enough self-awareness. You simply don't care.
"So... I uhh... I like my women how I like my coffee- unsweetened and mean."
"You say that while ordering a frappucino?" You scoff.
"Ah, you got me there. Heh."
Sure, you've never really spoken to the guy before, however, you know he isn't usually this awkward. Not around his friends or other women he isn't, you've unfortunately had to learn of his strange pickup lines, rude jokes and ridiculous behaviours, specifically whenever liquor is involved. Though today he's scuffing his fresh grey jordan 1s against the black tiled floor in an unmistakably bashful manner. Then again, you're a barrista, not a mind reader or a psychologist.
One of your cowokers is making his drink. Thank god you don't have to because those machines are flat out irritating to look at, let alone actually damn use. You're enjoying the short-lived silence, rolling your eyes as Gojo clears his throat again.
"Soo... any plans tonight?"
Your head tilts on its own, eyes following up with a squint in stark confusion. What is he on about? Plans? Surprisingly you actually don't have any.
"Nope. Why?"
"Could I take you on a da-"
"No."
"Come on you didn't even let m-"
"Your frappucino is ready."
His eyes light up just a little at that last statement- it's almost... cute? Ew no, you snuff out the thought like a cigarette and slide over the full cup.
"Thanks," he smiles "so... could I at least get your number?"
Maybe it's the manner he's asking with: hand rubbing his neck, cheeks slightly pink and those beautifully blue eyes downcast. Would he even take no for an answer? Probably not. Fine, you can ghost him after anyway; a part of you really can't reject him like this.
"Sure."
The word tumbles out with a sigh, Gojo punching the air in victory and then pulling out his phone. You could see your brain with how far your eyes are rolling, typing your number in his phone and shoving it back to him. His slim fingers rush to type your name and save the contact. Wait, he knows your name??? Whatever.
"Now bye, Satoru."
"Yeah, bye! I'll text ya tonight!"
With that he pushes through the door and dramatically skips out. Huh, it's only now you realise he's most likely making his way here every morning to see you, or at least that's what your coworker points out. You shake your head, continuing with your gruelling shift.