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“Dude, we’re gonna be late!” Kuroo hollered from the door.
Bokuto flitted about his room, shoving texts and notebooks into his bag and hoping they were the right ones for his classes for the day. “I know, I know!” he cried back. “It’s not my fault you kept me up so late I overslept, though!”
His messy-haired roommate folded his arms across his chest and scowled at him, their late night evident in the bags under his eyes. “I didn’t make you stay up to watch the whole stream.”
“Right. And you wouldn’t have sent any thirsty messages into the chat after I went to bed.”
Kuroo flinched. Bokuto was his impulse control, and vice versa, and he had asked Bo not to let him make a fool of himself or get banned from the stream of the super hot pro gamer he definitely did not have an unhealthy obsession with. He sighed as Bokuto slipped into his sneakers. “Ok, ok. I’ll buy breakfast to make it up to you.”
Bokuto wasn’t one to turn down free breakfast, but they were short on time. “Nekoma is out of the way. We’ll need to go somewhere closer to campus.”
“I think Kodzuken mentioned a new café in the stream the other day when someone asked him who had the best apple pies in town. I looked it up and it’s literally, like, right around the corner from the university. I don’t know how we’d never noticed it.”
Bokuto gave him a flat stare. “You’ve already been there, haven’t you?”
“Ok, first of all, I don’t like your tone.” Kuroo shrugged as he shut the door to their shared apartment behind them. “Second of all, do you want breakfast or not?”
“Yeah, yeah.” They hurried to the train station and barely made it to the platform in time.
Ten minutes later, they’re hurrying up the block towards school and the mysterious café. When they walked up to it, Bokuto understood how they’d never seen it before. It wasn’t very flashy, no extravagant decoration or loud signs announcing its existence to the world. A simple nameplate, KARASUNO CAFÉ, hung above the door, and flower beds hung along the windows. A simple bell chimed as they entered.
Despite its unassuming façade, the inside was teeming with people. Bokuto wondered how much of that was due to the café’s proximity to campus on a Monday morning or if word of mouth really was enough to bring in that much business. He wondered if perhaps Kodzuken’s endorsement was driving some of it, given the relative age of the crowd in line.
“Man, I hope the line moves quick,” he mutters, glancing at his phone to keep an eye on the time.
“Just make sure you know what you want before we get to the counter,” Kuroo said, idly tapping at a game on his phone.
Duh. Bokuto wasn’t an idiot. As they got close enough to see the pastry case, he perused the shelves for something to get him through the morning. He would have time between his first and second classes to grab a midmorning snack at the campus snack shop, and it wouldn’t bust his budget since Kuroo was buying breakfast. He noted the apple pies with a grin. The muffins looked great, too, but he settled on the bear claw with a nod. His mouth watered thinking about the sweet treat and how doubly sweet it was that he didn’t have to pay for it.
“How can I help you this morning?”
He and Kuroo stepped up to the cashier together, and all thoughts of what he wanted to order flew right out of his head. He didn’t even hear Kuroo order his slice of apple pie or his overly-complicated coffee-adjacent beverage except to register that words were coming out of his mouth and that the stunning beauty behind the register entered the order with a grace comparable to the most elegant dancers. He’d never been one for poetry, but suddenly he felt a pressing need to write pages of stanzas on the beauty of the immortal-made-flesh in front of him, because there was absolutely no way this guy was real. His dark hair curled around his face and ears and neck, and Bokuto’s hands twitched at his sides at the thought of running his fingers through the soft-looking locks. He was tall, too, nearly as tall as Bokuto, which was uncommon enough. And his eyes. Bokuto thought he could drown in those dark, glittering pools.
He almost jumped when he realized those intense eyes were staring at him, expecting something from him. Kuroo was jabbing his elbow into Bokuto’s ribs. “C’mon man, you’re holdin’ up the line. I thought we were in a hurry today?”
“Right. Um.” He closed his mouth and swallowed. “A venti mocha cappuccino.” He watched the cashier’s long, slender fingers tap his order into the screen.
“Name?”
Bokuto’s brain short circuited. The beautiful barista wanted his name. The god in front of him was asking for his name.
Distantly, he heard Kuroo sigh next to him. “Bokuto.”
The barista nodded. “Anything to eat?”
“Bear claw. Please.” He pulled his eyes away from the man’s face long enough to spy his nametag. Akaashi K.
His attention was drawn back to the register as those beautiful hands placed his order with a flurry of taps on the screen. “Anything else?”
Your number? His tongue was too thick in his mouth to let that thought slip out, though. Kuroo pulled out his wallet and passed several bills over as Akaashi told him the total. He gave Kuroo his change, and they moved off to the end of the bar to wait for their drinks as the next customers in line stepped up to take Akaashi’s attention.
“Dude, you alright?” Kuroo asked around a mouthful of pie.
Bokuto was still mesmerized by the beautiful cashier. “Kuroo, do you believe in love at first sight?”
“You literally stayed up til 4am with me watching a live stream of a game neither of us gives a shit about because I fell in love with the hot streamer at first sight.” He followed Bokuto’s gaze and his lips twisted in a sly grin. “He’s definitely your type.”
“Right?” Lean, tall, and handsome didn’t really do Akaashi justice, but they all certainly fell within the realm of his favorite physical attributes.
“You’re usually smoother than that, though. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you freeze up like that.”
Bokuto folded his arms across his chest and turned his face away in a pout. “I wasn’t prepared. He ambushed me with his pretty face and serious eyes and gorgeous hands.”
Kuroo raised an eyebrow at him. “Dude.”
He didn’t get a chance to say more because a fair-haired barista with a cute mole by his eye was calling their names. He was attractive, though not the type who Bokuto would usually go for at the club, but he also had to be sure he hadn’t completely lost his game. “Thanks, angel,” he said, accepting the drinks with a wink. “I didn’t know we had stumbled into heaven.”
Suga, his nametag provided, blinked round, cinnamon eyes at him, startled for the barest of moments. Then they crinkled with an airy, tinkling laugh as he tried to stifle it behind his hand. “My, my,” he breathed after he got his giggles under control. “Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.” He leaned his elbows on the counter and smiled up at Bokuto. “Though, if this is heaven, I’d be terrified to know what hell is like.”
Bokuto laughed. He imagined a busy morning shift probably did seem like hell to anyone who worked there. “I’ve been known to enjoy raising a little hell myself.”
“Are you a devil, Bokuto-san?” On the other hand, if Suga was flirting back, it meant he still had it. His gaze flitted over Suga’s shoulder toward Akaashi. The darker-haired man was fully engrossed in his duties and didn’t spare a moment’s glance for Bokuto. He was just going to have to come back and try again. Well, try in the first place, since he’d completely missed his first opportunity.
“Nope, just a shameless flirt,” Kuroo growled at his side, leaning in to take his drink and pull Bokuto away. “And one who is gonna make us late for class if he doesn’t get his ass in gear.”
“Don’t let me keep you, then,” Suga laughed. “I certainly won’t lament watching that ass walk away.”
Oh, he was good. Their little game over, Bokuto tossed some loose change into the tip jar on the counter as acknowledgment of his skills. Suga winked at him as they took their leave. Before the door shut behind them, Kuroo glanced back. “He wasn’t kidding. He really was watching your ass leave.”
“Duh, I work hard for this ass.” He ducked to avoid Kuroo’s fist in his hair.
It becomes a new part of their routine. When they have early classes, they go to Karasuno for breakfast. Sometimes Akaashi is there. Sometimes there’s another dark-haired kid at the register, his face somehow even more serious than Akaashi’s. Suga is there most mornings, and while Bokuto isn’t interested in pursuing the man, he still enjoys exchanging flirty banter with him. Besides which, he’s pretty sure the pretty barista has a thing going with the beefy manager with the amazing thighs, unless he’s completely missed his mark.
His real target is something of a statue, rigid and beautiful and unreadable. Akaashi is an enigma to Bokuto. How can someone be so immune to flattery? Bokuto is nothing if not determined, though, and when he wants something, he pours his heart and soul into it. He would get Akaashi to crack a smile, at the very least.
The first time he went back, he was alone. Kuroo didn’t have an early class so he stayed home to get another hour of sleep. That was fine. He didn’t need Kuroo’s help anyway. He’d already seen Akaashi once, so he couldn’t be stunned speechless a second time. He hoped he could recover from that babbling first impression. When it was his turn to order, he flashed his most charming smile. “I thought this was a café,” he said, “but I must be in a museum, because you are a work of art.”
Akaashi furrowed his brow. “This is a café, sir,” he said with a huff. “Would you like to order?”
Hard to get. Bokuto could work with that. He wasn’t about to give up, though he would concede his defeat on this particular occasion. “Venti mocha cappuccino please.”
“Will you be getting a bear claw today as well?” Akaashi asked as he typed in the drink order and wrote Bokuto’s name on the paper cup.
Bokuto stared at his fingers as they passed the cup along the bar towards Suga. He swallowed the mix of emotions that rose in his throat. So, he did remember Bokuto from the other day. “Uh, yeah. That sounds good.”
Akaashi nodded and told him his total. Bokuto was perfectly pleasant through the rest of the transaction. He didn’t attempt another shot at flirting. He had already made an impression, and he didn’t want to push too hard from the start. He caught Suga’s grin as the shorter barista watched their interaction with barely contained glee.
When he came the next morning and Akaashi wasn’t there, Bokuto pouted. He shouldn’t have expected the man to be there every single day, but he wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t disappointed. Kageyama was too serious to get his jokes, and he also looked too young to be an option anyway.
“He’ll be back Thursday afternoon,” Suga said without preamble as he handed Bokuto his morning pick-me-up.
It took Bokuto two seconds to process the information. His lips curled in a mischievous grin. “I misjudged you, Suga. Only a devil would give away his coworker’s schedule to a handsome stranger.”
Suga shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His grin was all faux innocence as he turned back to the bar to make the next drink in the line. “Who said anything about my coworker?”
Bokuto nodded appreciatively. He threw some more change into the jar. A tip for a tip.
He wasn’t stupid, though. He knew it would look suspicious if he suddenly didn’t show up again until Thursday afternoon, so he still went to the café every morning that week. Kuroo came with him again Thursday morning and made a fool of himself in front of the tall, skinny blonde cashier who was taking orders that morning. Tsukishima did not appreciate being called Tsukki by a total stranger.
“He is gonna spit in your drink,” Bokuto whisper-yelled as they walked away.
Kuroo flinched. “I didn’t realize he would get so offended.” He threw some change into the tip jar as apology. Tsukishima’s glower didn’t lessen, but the loud bald guy making the drinks laughed it up, calling him “Tsukki” until they hurried out with their drinks.
Friday morning, Akaashi was back, though he was behind the bar. On register was a bouncy little thing with the brightest hair Bokuto had ever seen. He wondered if they could bottle up his energy and add it to their overly caffeinated beverages. Hinata was eager to please, and Bokuto had an immediate need to take the kid under his wings.
When Akaashi brought their drinks to the end of the bar, Bokuto swore he caught a touch of makeup in the halogen lighting. Was he wearing concealer? If he’d had the closing shift and then turned around and had to open, it was possible he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Bokuto wondered how much other makeup Akaashi used, if he ever made himself up to go out. He really wanted to take the guy on a date to find out, but first he had to get his number.
A surge of confidence welled up in him. He puffed out his chest as he reached for his drink. “Tired Akaashi?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible. The barista narrowed his eyes skeptically. “You must be. You’ve been running through my mind all week.”
Akaashi closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. Bokuto couldn’t take his eyes off the way his long lashes curled against his cheekbones. He really wanted to rub his thumb over them. “I apologize, Bokuto-san. I will try to be more mindful of where I run.”
Bokuto blinked. Akaashi’s face was still smooth stone. Was he flirting back? Was that a rejection? Kuroo cackled behind him, startling him back to himself. Akaashi turned to make the next drinks as Kuroo pulled Bokuto away.
“What just happened?” he asked when they got outside.
“Pretty boy came to play!” Kuroo didn’t stop cackling until they got to campus.
As much as he wanted to go to Karasuno every day, his wallet would not allow it. A whole week of expensive breakfasts and extra tips had sorely cut into his food budget and by the weekend he was eating instant ramen for every meal. Kuroo took pity on him Saturday and brought him leftovers from the restaurant he worked at part-time.
“I feel partly responsible for this,” he explained.
“It’s entirely your fault, yes, but I forgive you.” Bokuto tore into the reheated stir-fry with the abandon of a starving man. “Thanks to you, I have found my perfect man, and in time I will win him over!”
“I dunno, bro. He doesn’t really respond to your pick-up lines. He might need a different approach.”
“Nah,” Bokuto said around a mouthful of vegetables. “I just gotta find the right one.”
He came up with a new plan. He could afford breakfast one day a week, and the café had decent seating where he could work on homework and studying before practice on other days. He hoped Akaashi’s schedule didn’t change too much from week to week, but he had a backup plan to bribe Suga for his schedule otherwise. He got lucky the following Monday when Akaashi was on the register again, but Thursday afternoon left him bereft of the man’s beautiful visage.
“He usually works the Thursday closing shift,” Hinata helpfully supplied when Bokuto casually asked after Akaashi, “but Kenma needed his help with some equipment so he took my Wednesday closing shift instead.”
“Ah.” Bokuto had no idea who this Kenma person was. A friend? A rival? No matter. Bokuto Koutaro was no quitter. He would find his way into Akaashi K.’s heart, mystery man be damned. Besides, he’d learned a valuable bit of intel from the tiny orange monster: their schedules were pretty consistent.
He understood why they put Akaashi on Monday mornings. He was quick and efficient. Paired with Suga and the manager, Daichi, on the bar, they rarely had a backup with the line. Even when Bokuto took a few extra seconds to flirt. “So, do you believe in love at first sight, Akaashi? Or am I just gonna have to keep coming back?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. That was a good one.
“I believe you are going to keep coming back regardless,” Akaashi said with barely a change to his neutral expression. How did he do that? “You like what we have to offer, after all.”
Bokuto stared at him. Seriously, he could not get a read on the guy. That didn’t deter him, though. It just made him want to try harder.
Sometimes he went alone. Sometimes Kuroo came with him. It was one such Thursday that he had dragged Kuroo along when something interesting happened. The afternoons were slower, the post lunch crowd was gone and the dinner folks wouldn’t be coming for another couple hours. It usually gave him extra time to work, both his romantic pursuits and his academics, but this particular Thursday he was once again too blindsided to flirt.
The tinkling chime over the door as they entered wasn’t the only light, airy sound wafting through the shop. Akaashi was leaning against the bar talking to a short blonde guy in an oversized hoodie, and he was laughing at something the guy said. Bokuto’s heart tried to fly out of his ribcage. That smile wasn’t legal. The way his eyes crinkled, the dimples in his cheeks, the sound of his laughter was all criminal. He would have died happy just for having witnessed it.
He was pulled back to reality by a vicelike grip on his bicep, though. He frowned at Kuroo’s hand there and looked up to yell at him but then he saw a familiar horrified expression on his best friend’s face. Gay panic. He wondered if that was how he’d looked the first day they’d been here. Then he followed his gaze back to the counter where Akaashi and the blonde guy were still chatting. There was something familiar about him, Bokuto thought.
“It’s him,” Kuroo hissed. That’s when Bokuto noticed the apple pie in the blonde’s hand. Oh. “Why is he here?”
“Probably the apple pie,” Bokuto reminded. “That is how we learned about this place.” He started walking towards the register, where he was surprised to find Tsukishima. He didn’t think the tall, snarky guy worked Thursday afternoons. He hoped their drinks wouldn’t get poisoned. He tried not to bring Kuroo on the days Tsukki worked because he loved to rile the guy up, but Kuroo’s mind was far from provoking Tsukki.
They placed their orders, and Tsukishima was astonished that Kuroo didn’t even have a quip for him. It only took him a matter of seconds to deduce why. Kuroo couldn’t stop looking over at the end of the counter where Kodzuken was cheerily eating an apple pie and talking to Akaashi while the barista set to preparing their drinks. A mischievous glint flashed across Tsukishima’s eyes and Bokuto felt the pressure of what was about to come. “Hey Kenma, I think you’ve got a fan here.”
Kenma? Kodzuken’s real name was Kenma?
Kuroo’s face flushed as red as his jacket. Bokuto couldn’t blame Tsukki for it. Kuroo really had been a pain in the ass to the kid. But just like his meeting Akaashi, Bokuto couldn’t help but feel this meeting was clandestine. Maybe Kuroo was meant to meet Kodzuken here, too.
Kenma seemed just as shocked as Kuroo, though. His cheeks were dusted a pretty pink behind his curtain of bleached hair. “I’m still not used to people recognizing me in public,” he muttered. “But, I’m always happy to greet a fan.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kuroo mumbled, offering his hand with a bow. “Your streams are, like, the best. My friend and I watch them all night.”
Bokuto nodded. “We came here at your recommendation!”
Kenma’s face turned redder. “I’m glad you like it, then.”
Akaashi brought their drinks over. Kuroo seemed to have lost all interest in his, but Bokuto grinned as he watched the scene play out. Kuroo and Kenma fumbled their way through the beginning of the conversation but before long they were talking as if they had known each other their entire lives.
“Incredible,” a soft voice murmured to his right. Bokuto nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d completely forgotten Akaashi was still there, and evidently he was just as enraptured in the developments before them as Bokuto was. “He never talks this long to strangers.” His lips still curved in a tender smile as Kuroo and Kenma moved to a table to continue their discussion.
Before Bokuto could say anything more, Akaashi returned to his station behind the bar to prepare another drink. Taking the hint, Bokuto set up at a table adjacent to Kuroo and Kenma and did what he came to do. All the while he studied though, he thought of Akaashi’s smile, and he became more determined than ever to be the one to bring it out of him.
His next attempt was a few weeks later, the morning after a particularly brutal practice match that left him sore and limping slightly. “Did you injure yourself?” Akaashi’s concern was diluted by the fact that he had the same impassive stare as usual.
Still, Bokuto had a perfect line for the occasion. “Yeah, I scraped my knees falling for you.”
Akaashi shook his head with a sigh. “You should really be more careful, Bokuto-san. Shall I have Suga crush up an aspirin in your cappuccino this morning?”
Bokuto laughed. “Can he do that?”
“For a price!” Suga chirped from the back, leaning into view with a cheeky grin, tongue stuck out to the side.
“I don’t think I can afford that.” Suga laughed. Akaashi rolled his eyes.
“Looking pretty as ever today, ‘Kaashi,” he crowed one morning a few months into their acquaintanceship. The barista raised an eyebrow at the shortening of his name, but Bokuto barreled on. “I think I look rather cute myself. You know, together that’d make us pretty cute, don’t you think?”
Akaashi seemed to consider for a moment. His eyes actually took in all of Bokuto’s outfit. “I think the gym rat look doesn’t quite fall into the realm of cute.”
“Gym rat? Ouch, ‘Kaashi. These are my best sweats, I’ll have you know.” He didn’t get a laugh, but he didn’t miss the slight crinkle in his eyes as he walked to the end of the counter for his drink.
The next week he was back studying on a typical Thursday afternoon. It was a little busier than usual so he claimed a table as soon as he placed his order instead of waiting at the counter. Akaashi was on the bar so he hadn’t had a chance to speak to him yet. He kept his ear out for his name to be called as he started in on his essay for 19th Century Literature. Most students found it painfully boring and only took it to fulfil a graduation requirement, and Bokuto was taking it for that reason too, but he secretly enjoyed the books they read.
He was through his introductory paragraph when a shadow fell across his laptop. He looked up to find Akaashi standing there with his usual order. The chair scraped back against the floor as he got to his feet. “Oh! Sorry! I must not have heard you calling me.”
“It’s fine.” Akaashi handed him the drink and Bokuto’s fingers burned as they brushed Akaashi’s. “You looked like you were really focusing, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“No, no! It’s totally cool. Just intense from waiting til the last minute to start an assignment.” He really needed to stop doing that to himself, but he did work better under pressure.
“What are you working on?”
The question caught him off guard. They’d barely talked about his studies, barely talked about anything at all. Most of their conversations had been Bokuto throwing dumb pick-up lines and hoping for a bite while never being able to interpret Akaashi’s responses. Which reminded him, he hadn’t done the flirting thing yet today. He shrugged with a coy little grin. “I’m writing a term paper on the finer things in life. I was hoping I could interview you.”
Akaashi regarded him with a level look. It was softer than the typical hard stares or eye rolls he usually gave at Bokuto’s one-liners and Bokuto felt that familiar flutter in his chest. What he wouldn’t give to have those piercing eyes always looking at him. “You know,” he said, quirking a fine eyebrow, “if you spent as much time studying as you do thinking of pick-up lines, you wouldn’t need to spend so much time cramming here.”
Bokuto brought his cappuccino to his mouth and peered at the barista over the lip, feeling emboldened by the lengthier exchange. “But then when would I get to see your beautiful face?”
Akaashi started to turn away from him. Instead of rolling his eyes like usual though, they narrowed slightly, flicking towards the cup in Bokuto’s hands. “On our dates.”
“Wait, what?” Bokuto’s grip on the paper cup slackened and he almost dropped it. As he scrambled to get a hold of it, he noticed something else written on the cup aside from his name. A number.
“I got tired of waiting for you to ask.” Akaashi was smirking at him. “I’m off at 7.” And then he winked as he walked back to the counter.
Bokuto never finished an essay so fast in his entire life.