Work Text:
Katsuki is fucking pissed.
People often romanticize autumn. You know, say all that crap about the beauty in the changing colors or whatever. But to him, it's complete bullshit. Sure the leaves are pretty until they're covering the damn sidewalks he's trying to run on. And the days get colder so running just fucking sucks in general, and it's dark out in the mornings so he can't even appreciate the so-called beautiful views. Whatfuckingever.
The only thing that gets him out of bed in the dreary fall mornings is the thought of a warm cup of coffee. Black coffee, of course. He doesn't put any of that sugary garbage into his body, and the purpose of coffee is caffeine, not getting diabetes. He only allows himself coffee for fall and the first half of winter, when each day gets worse and worse. It's a guilty pleasure, so to say.
So when he drags his ass out of bed at 5am for his run, and finds Dunce Face freaking out over the coffee maker, he's pretty fucking mad.
The idiot somehow managed to short-circuit the damn thing, and now it doesn't fucking work.
Fucking great.
He contemplates violent murder, but has some reprieve when he finds out Kaminari suffers just as much as he does from this. He'd been up for thirty-five hours straight working on an essay, so coffee was his only lifeline until he fucked it up and then proceeded to pass out on the kitchen counter.
Katsuki will kill him later.
For now, he needs to go on his run and find some random local coffee shop before class, or he might kill far more than just Kaminari.
Normally he has one cup before his run and one cup after, but he'll just have to settle for one after.
It's drizzling outside, making the chill reach his bones. He runs on the outskirts of campus, not wanting to pass too many people on their way to class. He likes going early enough that the people he does see, are people who are significantly less obnoxious. Like him.
And it's reasonably fine, aside from the awful weather and lack of sun. That is, until he finds a stick buried under a pile of leaves and goes flying knee-first into the sidewalk.
So now he's gushing blood into his nice white socks.
And the cold makes it sting even more.
Just fucking wonderful.
Scouting out coffee shops pisses him off even more, since his drink should be fucking free if he was making it at home normally. And he absolutely refuses to pay the ridiculous Starbucks prices for a plain black coffee. He finally slows at a shop on the edge of campus, slightly hidden away from everything else. It looks fairly nice, but local enough that it can't be too expensive, so he heads inside.
The first thing he thinks when he enters is, holy shit, it's fucking green. From the walls, to the hundreds of plants littering every corner, the entire damn store is green. Even the fucking barista, is green.
He's also fucking gorgeous.
And maybe if it were another day, Katsuki would amble up to the counter with charm and an award winning smile. But his knee hurts and his sock is wet from blood and his fingers are still kinda numb and he missed his first cup of coffee, so he doesn't really feel like doing any of that.
"One black coffee."
The green haired man flashes him a massive smile that stretches to his eyes, freckles dancing from his face scrunch. "Okay! Would you like-"
"No." He interrupts, glaring. "Just a black coffee. Don't fuck it up."
"Okay but-"
"Just black coffee!" Katsuki snaps. "Are you stupid? Do you not know how to make a black coffee?"
The man's—'Izuku', he notes from his name tag—jaw drops. "No! Obviously I know how!"
"Then why are we having this fucking conversation, instead of you just making my damn coffee?"
Izuku slams his hands onto the counter, fingers spread. There's no hint of the giant smile that once graced his face. "There are different types of black coffee! I need to know what you want, what roast, and how you want it brewed—"
"I don't care!" Katsuki slams his own hands down, fingers placed in between Izuku's. "I just want a regular fucking black coffee! I normally make it myself to avoid all this bullshit, but my dumbass roommate fucked our coffee machine! So just a regular fucking coffee, one that has caffeine, is fine. I don't give a shit what's in it. Just make me a consumable drink, Deku."
"My name's Izuku!"
"Well obviously you should be called Deku if you can't figure out how to make a fucking coffee." He sneers.
Izuku narrows his eyes, punching something into the machine. "Fine. I'll make your stupid fucking coffee. What's the name for the order?"
"Wow, swearin' on the job, Deku?" He smirks. "Sounds unprofessional. Name's Katsuki Bakugou."
"Sorry, Kacchan." Izuku responds sweetly, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. "That'll be ¥1,000."
"¥1,000!" He shouts. "Are you fucking with me?"
Izuku's smile seems to sharpen at that. "That's before tax. So actually, ¥1,100."
"You're actually fucking with me!"
"Sir, please." Izuku tips his head patronizingly. "We cannot have you yelling in this coffee shop. Other customers will complain."
Katsuki waves his arms around, mouth gaping. "The fuck are you talking about? There's no one else in here?" Apparently being at a coffee shop on the edge of campus at 5:30am on a Monday is not most people's idea of a good time. Who knew.
"Cafe policy." Izuku doesn't hesitate. "Now would you like to pay, or leave."
He grumbles the entire time as he takes his card out and swipes it. What a fucking waste. He's gonna kill Dunce Face later for this.
"Alright! Your drink will be out shortly!"
Katsuki rolls his eyes at the cheery tone and sits down in a corner booth. If he's paying for their ridiculously overpriced coffee, he might as well take advantage of the atmosphere to get some work done. He has a shit ton of assignments to grade which he's been avoiding; being an Intro to Chemistry teacher's assistant means some of the responses he gets from students are absolutely fucking ridiculous. How the fuck are you in college studying Chemistry and don't know what H2O is?
Tutoring these kids makes him want to slam his head through a wall, mostly. There are one or two that he doesn't mind, since they actually give a shit and do their work, they just genuinely struggle. But most of them are just trying to get by with the least amount of effort possible, and Katsuki has no respect for students who don't even show up to class. And he makes that really obvious in his grading. Sue him.
He finishes grading his eighth assignment when a cup is placed beside him.
"Your coffee, sir." Izuku's back to smiling that ridiculous fucking smile, and he doesn't move even after putting the disposable cup down.
"Thanks." He grunts.
Izuku still doesn't move.
It's a little weird.
He looks up and down between his work and the employee, before sighing. "Did you need somethin'?"
"Oh! No!" Izuku giggles. It is a surprisingly nice sound. "I just wanted to make sure the coffee was to your taste before I left you alone."
Katsuki curls his lip slightly at that, before taking a big gulp.
He almost spits it straight back out.
Because fuck, that coffee is sweet.
He immediately rips the lid off, to see that the color is a light brown. Not even close to a black coffee.
"Freckles. What the fuck is this?"
"Your coffee, sir." The smile on his face is extremely punchable.
"I asked for my coffee black."
Izuku leans over him, to the point where Katsuki has to fight to not shrink back. Their noses brush slightly, when Izuku says, "I thought you needed something sweet."
And for once, Katsuki is at a loss for words.
So he pops the lid back on, takes another sip, and pretends he doesn't hear Izuku cackling as he walks back to the counter.
It's fucking caramel.
Sticky, sweet, and lingering.
The rest of the day, he's disoriented.
That stupid laugh keeps echoing in his brain, annoying the fuck out of him.
And he swears the caramel coated the inside of his throat, making everything sickly sweet.
It's too much.
He drinks the entire drink anyway.
By the time he's done with his two classes, he still has way too much energy left in him, but he trudges home through the wet leaves anyway. They stick to his calves in a way that genuinely makes him gag at the feeling. Fucking disgusting.
Entering his apartment, he sees Kirishima on the floor tinkering with the coffee machine.
"Hey man!"
"What the fuck are you doing?" He raises an eyebrow, tugging his nasty shoes and socks off. "Are you trying to break it further?"
Kirishima frowns at that. "What? No! I'm gonna fix it! Or figure out what's wrong with it and get someone else to fix it!"
"You're definitely going to fuck it up."
"Do you have no faith in your bro?"
"Absolutely none." He finds himself bouncing on his toes, practically vibrating.
Kirishima claps a hand over his chest, offended. "That's fucked up. Unrelated, but why exactly are you so hyper?"
He thinks back to green eyes and freckles and hates the heat that rushes to his cheeks. "No fucking reason. You wanna work it off, or are you too busy with that shit?"
"Nah, you're probably right about me breaking it more."
"So you're gonna leave it alone?"
"Absolutely not, I'll try to fix it again later."
Katsuki sighs deeply, before heading to his room to grab a change of clothes. Although he goes to class in his running clothes, he doesn't consider his morning jog a real workout. When he actually works out, oftentimes involving boxing, he refuses to keep the same clothes on for a moment after he's done. He grabs fresh shoes and socks as well, considering the bloody mess he left on his old ones.
When he heads back to the living room, Kirishima's flipping the couch cushions in a panic.
"The fuck are you doing?"
"I can't find my water bottle!" Kirishima looks up in distress, before continuing to dig around the couch.
Katsuki points at the water bottle sitting right beside the fucked coffee machine. "Is this not it?"
"Oh."
"You're an idiot."
"Honestly, I can't even argue with that one right now."
Walking to the gym is slightly less shitty than before. If anything, he can complain about how shitty it is to Kirishima, which generally lifts his spirits. Complaining makes everything better, but only when he does it obviously.
The gym is pretty full, but he doesn't really care. People know him for his brash personality, so no one dares take a machine he wants to use lest he starts screaming at them.
In fact, people generally avoid him.
He likes it that way.
Kirishima's the exact opposite, however, and so going places with him means being approached by way too many extras that he just doesn't want to deal with.
"Hello, Kirishima. Bakugou." Todoroki bows in front of them slightly.
"What's up bro!"
"Fuck off half-and-half, we're tryin' to work out here."
Todoroki nods. "I assumed so, this is a gym."
"So fuck off."
"I need to speak with Kirishima."
"Do it another time."
Kirishima nudges him, standing from the lat pulldown machine. "Just do your set, man."
He just grunts in response and starts working out. He tries to tune them out—it does not work.
"Would you be interested in working on Saturday?"
"Sure, man! Do you need me to cover your shift?"
"No."
"No?"
"No. I would like to work with you on Saturday. You can cover Mineta's shift."
"Did he ask for his shift to be covered?"
"No."
"Uh... I don't think I can just take his shift."
Katsuki finishes his 15 reps, but doesn't move to switch with Kirishima for his rest time. If he has to listen to this bullshit, he's gonna finish his entire workout. He tries to let his mind wander, but it only goes to green hair and smiles that are way too big, and he can't stand that either. So he resigns himself to listening to the idiots.
"You can. If he complains I will report him for sexual harassment."
"He sexually harasses you!?"
"No. The customers."
"He sexually harasses the customers!?"
"Yes."
"You should probably report that anyway."
"I would, but he says I will get in trouble for my hair if I do."
"Why would you get in trouble for your hair?"
"It's dyed an unnatural color."
"Shit, you're right. I can't even complain either, or I'll get in trouble too."
Katsuki seriously considers slamming his head into a wall.
He stands up abruptly, shoving Kirishima at the machine. "Are you guys fucking stupid? They know what color your hair is already, they have fucking eyes."
"Oh."
"Oh."
"Thank you, Bakugou. I appreciate your assistance in the matter." Todoroki bows again. "This is why you are one of my best friends."
Katsuki just storms off to the next machine, flipping him off as he goes.
“One black coffee.”
He finds himself staring down the same emerald eyes and mischievous smile the next morning too, considering their new coffee maker was going to take a few days to ship. “Of course. That’ll be ¥550.”
“¥550?”
“Yep!”
“Yesterday it was ¥1100?”
Izuku shrugs, looking away quickly. “We’re running a promotion on black coffee.”
Katsuki just nods and swipes his card.
He goes to sit down in the same booth, pulling out more assignments to grade. If there’s anything Katsuki Bakugou loves, it’s routines. Consistency. He hates anything that disrupts his life, and the movie Groundhog Day sounds like a fuckin’ dream. But it seems like he just can’t catch a break.
“Is that Intro to Chem?” Izuku sets his coffee down and slides into the booth across from him.
“Uh, yeah?”
“I took that class!”
He raises an eyebrow disbelievingly. "And passed it?"
"Yes!" Izuku says, offended. "I got an A, thank you very much!"
"Sure, Deku." He smirks sharply at the spluttering he gets in response. "Why the hell were you takin' Intro to Chem anyway?"
"I'm a Neuroscience major."
Katsuki nods in understanding. Anyone in a science major is required to take Intro to Chem, a real nightmare for the bio or physics students, considering the amount of questions he gets asked by them.
Neuroscience is a major he can respect.
"That it?"
Izuku squints at him before rolling his eyes. "Neuroscience and psych."
"Knew there was something wrong with you."
"What's wrong with psych?" Izuku gapes.
"Everything."
Izuku scoffs, kicking his shin under the table. "Okay, jackass. What's your major then?"
He raises both eyebrows, looking between Izuku and his work. "Chem. Obviously."
"Wh—you could be a chem TA without majoring in it!" Izuku kicks him again, and he locks their ankles together to stop the assault. Izuku's cheeks redden at the action, freckles making him resemble a strawberry. Bitable. "And if anything, you're the psychopath for willingly majoring in chemistry!"
"Nah. Just a genius who's gonna change the world."
Izuku laughs at that. "Yeah, sure."
“You doubtin’ me, nerd?”
“I would never, Kacchan.” He chews on the side of his lip. "Why are you a TA anyway? Not that there's anything wrong with it, but one of my friends was a TA and I heard the pay is not the greatest. Is it different for chem TAs? Or are you just really rich, and don't need to work for money? Or you're just a masochist?"
Katsuki leans back, eyes flickering between the rapid blinking and fingers thrumming against the mahogany as he rambles. "None of those. Well, could be the last one, just not for chem." He smirks at the flush that takes over the tips of Izuku's ears. "I work under Aizawa-sensei. I do his TA garbage, and he lets me intern at his research lab."
Izuku's eyes light up at that, as he practically vibrates in his seat from excitement. "Aizawa-sensei is like my idol! I go to any class I can audit of his, you're so lucky to work under him! What's it like? Do you actually get to make significant contributions? What are you guys researching? Can I see it? Is it confidential? Wait, if it was confidential would you even be allowed to tell me that, or would that be confidential too? Do you think-"
"Deku." Katsuki cuts in.
He claps a hand over his mouth, as if suddenly realizing how much he's rambling. "Sorry!" His face is so red that Katsuki would be concerned—but he gets far too much enjoyment out of the nerd's embarrassment to care.
"It's whatever, idiot. Yes I make actual contributions, I'm not just some extra. It's cancer research, and it's not confidential. Maybe I'll show you sometime."
Izuku flails, trying to contain his excitement. Cute.
He turns back to his work, before absentmindedly reaching for the warm cup of coffee.
Katsuki’s eyes lock onto Izuku’s as he takes a sip of his drink.
He almost spits it out again.
It tastes like fucking chocolate.
Katsuki eats chocolate maybe three times a year, if he's feeling indulgent. Definitely not in a coffee on a random Tuesday.
He looks up to see the absolute shit-eating grin on Izuku's really nice face.
"Enjoying your coffee, Kacchan?"
"Drop dead."
Sweet warmth consumes him for the rest of the day.
Days pass until going to the coffee shop feels like second nature.
Izuku gets more and more comfortable as he learns Katsuki, and Katsuki gets more and more comfortable as he adjusts to the chaos that is Izuku.
He gets used to the sticky sweet feeling left in his throat, to his heart racing from the sugar, to his body being warm from the heated drinks.
It's almost 7pm, and he still feels the fuzzy warmth in his bones.
And it's fucking needed, because walking to class on autumn nights is not for the weak. Or the easily cold. Katsuki isn't weak, but he most definitely is easily cold. And he fucking hates being cold. So he bundles himself up in the thickest puffer jacket known to man, pulls the hood up, wraps a thick scarf around his neck and pulls on the black gloves that he never leaves the house without.
Despite all of his preparations, he's still fucking cold.
Fucking autumn.
He's almost at class, when a man grabs his shoulder and gives him a minor heart attack.
"You dropped something!"
Katsuki freezes, immediately looking around the ground to see what he could've dropped. His hands stay in his pockets throughout the cold seasons, so he can't fathom how he didn't notice dropping something. Except after a few moments, he still doesn't see anything.
He finally looks up to see who grabbed him in the first place, and if he had something to drop, he would've.
It's fucking Deku.
Deku, who smirks at him and says, "Your conversation with me."
Katsuki just stares at him, flabbergasted. Too stunned to speak, honestly.
"We are trying to raise money for the turtles!" Izuku grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. His whole face is flushed from the cold, as well as his hands from the lack of gloves. A foldable table sits behind him, covered in signs and flyers for their environmental mission.
"Wha?"
"Like to help save them! The ocean requires a lot of clean up!"
He just stares blankly.
"Would you like to donate? Or even just signing the petition helps! If you're more hands on, we do actually go and do beach cleanups, so you're welcome to join that as well! Or you could be like me and start recruiting people! Or you could—"
"Deku."
Izuku freezes like he's been shocked, before slowly leaning over and pulling Katsuki's scarf down. The cold air immediately kisses his cheeks and lips, but he allows it so Izuku can take in his unimpressed expression.
"Kacchan! I didn't realize it was you with all the getup!" He says sheepishly.
"What the fuck was that line?"
"What line?" Izuku sounds genuinely confused and Katsuki kind of wants to bite him.
Instead, he grabs the top of Izuku's head with a firm palm. "The whole, you dropped something, your conversation with me? Is that a fuckin' pickup line?"
Izuku reddens even more at that. "No! Well, maybe. But not like that! I'm trying new tactics to get people to actually stop and listen." He pouts like a child, and Katsuki hates that he finds it kind of cute.
Because what fucking idiot uses pickup lines to get people to donate?
"Is it working?"
"You stopped, didn't you?" Izuku smiles proudly.
Katsuki wrinkles his nose slightly, because yeah, he did stop. He's probably going to be late for class now because of it, considering he times his walk perfectly so he'll make it to class exactly 5 minutes early. "Because I thought I actually dropped something, dumbass."
"But then you stayed for my pitch!" Izuku hops up and down in place, excitedly shaking Katsuki's hand off his head, before grabbing a clipboard off the table. "Would you actually sign the petition?"
He rolls his eyes, but yanks off his gloves so he can grip the pen. His writing is immediately shaky due to the biting cold, but Izuku doesn't seem to care, progressively wiggling more and more to try and contain himself. "There. You happy, ya damn nerd?"
"Of course!" He grabs Katsuki's wrists earnestly, and he feels himself lock up. Izuku's hands are fucking freezing. And before he can think about it, he's shoving his favorite black gloves into Izuku's chest. "Huh?"
"Fuckin' wear 'em. It's cold as shit out here, and your dumbass didn't bring any winter clothes?"
"It's not even winter, it's autumn!" Izuku protests, before looking back down at the gloves.
When he looks back up, his grin is so blinding, it could rival the sun. He stares at Katsuki with some kind of reverence, awed. "Are you sure? You'll be cold."
Katsuki swallows thickly, looking away from the beaming smile so he can remember how to speak. "I'll be fine. I'm not the idiot standing on the street trying to pick up people without any proper winter clothes."
"I'm not picking up people!" Izuku tugs the gloves on anyway, and then squeezes his palm with a gloved hand. "Thank you, Kacchan. Seriously."
"Yeah, whatever." He scoffs, grateful that his hood can cover the warmth in his ears. If his face is flushed, it's from the cold. Nothing else. "I'm going to class. See you tomorrow, nerd."
"See you!" Izuku calls after him.
The entire rest of his walk, his fingers are cold.
He doesn't even know why he gave up his gloves so easily, especially when Izuku didn't even ask for them.
But after seeing that smile, he can't bring himself to regret it.
He doesn't really know what that means though.
Class is extremely boring.
The first time Katsuki entered the lab, he thought he knew who he wanted to be.
Whenever Katsuki mentions he works in chemistry research, people assume he's doing something explosive. Given his so called 'anger issues', it makes sense that's what people would expect from him. And when he first got into chemistry, that was what he wanted to do.
He got into chemistry for the fire, explosions, and pushing the limits of whatever he's testing. And he made that extremely clear amongst his peers and professors. He knows that he was a little shit back then.
Despite that, Aizawa-sensei saw something in him enough to offer him a job in cancer research.
His entire first shift, he complained.
Cancer research wasn't flashy enough, and people spent years working on it to no avail. Katsuki wanted glory, fame, success. He didn't want to spend years on something to not even be remembered for it.
He wanted to quit.
Every second that he was ordered around increased his resolve to never come back. To go home and send Aizawa-sensei an email that he would no longer work under him that cancer research was not made for someone like him.
At the end of his first shift, he and Aizawa-sensei cleaned up in silence.
Then, his husband Hizashi-sensei and their daughter Eri showed up.
Eri was extremely enthusiastic to meet the new researcher. She didn't find Katsuki scary in the slightest, excitement radiating off of her despite the obvious exhaustion dragging her down.
They came straight from chemotherapy for Eri's neuroblastoma—cancer of the nervous system.
And Katsuki finally understood.
He never complained about research again.
"Good morning, Bakubro!" Kirishima grins, arm slung around Kaminari's shoulders. "We have a surprise!"
He stares at them in disbelief.
They're standing in front of the countertop, exactly where the old coffee maker was.
Do they think he's stupid?
He's literally the one who paid for the replacement. How is it a surprise?
"Surprise!" Kaminari jumps out of the way, doing jazz hands around their new coffee maker. "You can go back to your two cups of coffee!"
He nods, pushing past them and pulling out his bag of coffee grounds. It smells just as good as always, especially once it starts brewing. But Katsuki feels restless.
Once he finally pours it into the same stupid snowman mug he's been using for two years courtesy of Kirishima, he doesn't feel satisfied. Because for the first time in his life, he takes a sip, and it feels bitter.
He drinks the whole thing anyway.
Katsuki feels empty the rest of the day.
He tries again the next day.
Brews it himself, the same grounds he's used for years.
After two sips, he gives in.
Grumbling to himself, he pulls out the large jar of sugar Kaminari keeps "in case of emergencies", and adds two generous teaspoons.
He doesn't feel any better.
The next day, he gets dressed for his run first.
Katsuki never gets dressed first.
He brews his coffee.
Takes one sip, pours it down the drain, and heads out for his run.
His feet take him straight to the coffee shop.
The second he walks through the door, Izuku's face lights up. He grins so wide, his eyes crinkle to the point Katsuki doubts he can see a thing. His freckles bunch up at the ridge of his nose, and it's so familiar Katsuki could cry.
"You're back!"
He ambles up to the counter, unable to look away from the beaming face. "I am."
Izuku starts ringing him up before he even orders. "I was wondering where you went. I mean you come in every single day at the exact same time and then you stopped showing up, I thought maybe you died or something! Or you were sick. Or maybe you exploded something in the lab and it went terribly wrong and melted your face so you'd be unable to drink coffee."
Katsuki can't help the small smile that spreads across his face. "Nah. My new coffee maker arrived."
"What?" Izuku looks up so sharply, his neck cracks. "Then why are you back?"
"I think it's broken or something."
"Isn't it new?"
Katsuki turns to look anywhere but Izuku as he mumbles, "Everythin' I make tastes bitter." He glances back at Izuku out of the corner of his eye, and sees a smug smile has taken over his face. Bastard.
"I thought you liked black coffee."
"I do. Machine's broken." He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
Izuku's grin grows with each word. "Did you try adding sugar?"
"Yeah. Still tasted like shit. Machine's broken."
"Have you considered that maybe you actually like the syrups I add to your coffee."
"Nope."
Izuku bites his lip, clearly trying to hold back laughter. "No you haven't considered it, or no you don't like the syrups?"
"Nope."
"Okay, Kacchan." He giggles. The sound is music to Katsuki's ears after two days of listening to the beeps on his coffee maker instead. "¥550."
He pulls out his wallet wordlessly. The price is still ridiculous considering he can make the drink at home, but whatever. Maybe he's trying to live a little or something.
"Perfect! That'll be out for you in a minute."
Katsuki heads back to his usual table, pulling his work out.
Maybe that was the issue. That he created a new routine in the coffee shop, and that routine was disturbed by the new coffee maker. He's always loved routines, so maybe he just got attached to this one extra fast. That makes the most sense anyway. He wouldn't get attached for any other reasons, he's not pathetic or sentimental like that. It is a nice coffee shop, the decorations are really soothing. Especially the greenery.
He finds his hands straying to the notebook he has laid out, and instead of grading like he usually does, like he should be doing, he starts sketching. Drawing has always been somewhat therapeutic to him when he struggles to understand himself— that or beating the fuck out of a punching bag. But considering he's at a coffee shop, he'll have to opt for art. Pen strokes are fairly calming anyway.
Knuckles wrap on the table, startling him out of his focus. "Coffee's ready. Is that me?" Izuku leans over him, squinting at the drawing.
"No."
His fingertips lightly trace the lines on the page. "Really? Cause it looks like me?"
"Coincidence." Katsuki tugs the notebook closer to him to try and obscure the art, but the sunlight pouring through the large windows just highlights every line. "It ain't you."
"It even has my freckles." Izuku pokes each dot on the drawing's cheek.
"Nah. That's only 8, you have 12." The words leave his mouth before he can even think of what that means.
Izuku stills, before his hands slowly reach to trace his own cheek. "I do?"
Fuck.
Katsuki just slams the notebook shut and shoves it into his bag before he gives anything else away. Reaches for the cup of coffee, and when he takes a sip, he doesn't even flinch at the sweet pumpkin pie flavoring.
He just pulls the green mug closer to his chest, and tugs his papers closer so there's room for Izuku to sit across from him.
When he's ready to leave, he opens his notebook again.
He draws four more freckles, tears the page out of his notebook, and leaves it on the table.
Izuku beams at him.
Katsuki might actually be dying.
The next time Katsuki's in the coffee shop, he's not alone.
"I'd like one vanilla bean cold brew with two pumps of caramel, one pump of pumpkin spice, pumpkin cream cold foam and two extra shots of espresso!"
Katsuki stares at him blankly, before turning to Izuku who doesn't even flinch at the ridiculous request. His smile stays just as wide as always. Maybe because he's also a psychopath who likes his drinks tasting like an impending heart attack
"Okay, I got all of that! What about for you?" Izuku grins at Kirishima, who stares down the pastry case intensely. Katsuki stares at Izuku instead, noting the slight dark circles under his eyes. It pisses him off—of course the idiot isn't taking care of himself.
"Do you guys do sandwiches here?"
Katsuki doesn't even hesitate to whack the back of his head. "Did you really just spend ten minutes staring at the pastries just to ask about a fucking sandwich? And the menu is behind him, dumbass. Don't be a fucking idiot."
Kirishima pouts, rubbing the spot Katsuki hit. "Fine, whatever, I'll just get the same drink as Kaminari."
He curls his lip at that. "You idiots aren't even drinking coffee at this point. Just straight fucking sugar."
"Not all of us go to a coffee shop to order plain black coffee, Bakubro."
"Yeah, why would you go all the way here to get something you could make at home?" Kaminari smirks, eyes flicking between Katsuki and Izuku. Kirishima steps forward to pay for the two of them.
"Sparky, I still haven't dealt with you over wrecking our coffee machine. Do you want to die?"
Izuku taps the counter excitedly. "Oh! You're the roommate! Kacchan told me about that, how you short-circuited the coffee maker."
"Kacchan?" Kaminari's grin just widens at that, like a shark that's gotten a whiff of blood. "You don't let us call you anything but Bakugou, do you? I mean, Kirishima's basically your best friend and the one time he tried calling you by your given name you almost murdered him. What makes—Izuku— so special, Kacchan?"
Katsuki grits his teeth. "Sit the fuck down. And if you ever call me that shit again, they'll find your body in so many pieces they won't even be able to tell you were human once."
"But it's okay when Izuku says it?"
Katsuki takes a single step forward, eye twitching, and Kaminari immediately bolts to the booth Katsuki pointed out when they entered. At least he has half a braincell to know when to run. Kirishima follows him, but not before doing this weird ass grin, wink, and thumbs up combo while wiggling his eyebrows. Katsuki thinks it's supposed to be some kind of code, but he really just looks like an idiot.
"So, what can I get for you?" Izuku's smile lights up his entire face, and it's entirely directed at Katsuki, as it should be.
"One black coffee."
"Your roommates are cool."
"They're a bunch of idiots."
Izuku presses his lips together to suppress a chuckle. "Makes sense they're friends with you then."
"Oi!"
The laugh finally breaks free, loud and uncaring. Katsuki kind of wants to bottle it.
"I never said they're my friends. They're just the most tolerable of the extras, and Sparky is really pushing it these days."
"And me?"
Katsuki furrows his eyebrows. "Hah?"
"Am I just an extra?" Izuku chews the corner of his lip.
"You're my barista?" The words come out uncertainly.
"Right." Izuku clears his throat, looking back to the register with a slight frown. "That'll be ¥550."
Katsuki feels oddly bothered by his reaction. "Actually, one black coffee and one more of whatever the fuck Sparky ordered."
Izuku looks up in surprise, before nodding mutely. "You really do take care of your friends, even if you only refer to them as extras."
"Idiots don't know how to take care of themselves."
"Or you just care." He continues before Katsuki can protest. "¥1800."
He grimaces at the total, but pays before heading back to the booth and sliding in across from Kirishima and Kaminari. Listening to them brainstorm ideas for their podcast makes him feel like he's losing braincells by the second, but watching Izuku work makes it tolerable.
"Your coffees." Izuku says, placing them down in front of them and turning to return to the counter.
Katsuki grabs his wrist before he can move, and silently pulls him into the booth beside him.
"Huh?"
He slides over the second steaming mug, color light enough that it's definitely extremely sweet and overly caffeinated.
"For me?"
Katsuki doesn't even have to look to know the look of awe Izuku has on his face. "Drink it."
The shit eating grins from Kaminari and Kirishima make him want to die a little. Or murder.
Izuku's smile makes it worth it.
"They have some pastries, alright. They even have the strawberry cupcakes you like."
Eri pouts, yanking on his sleeve. "But Daddy always takes me to the bakery next to the lab. They do the frosting like frogs there!"
"You don't even like frogs." He squints at her.
"But I like the cupcakes!"
"This place has cupcakes."
"But not frog ones." Despite her frustration, she only grasps his hand tighter. "Why do we have to go to this one?"
Katsuki frowns slightly. "Well, there's someone waiting for me there?"
"Who?"
"The barista. Name's Deku."
Eri gasps, hopping up and down in excitement. "Is he your boyfriend?"
"What? No. No way. Why would you think that? Ew. No." He tries to drag her along and change the topic, but she plants her feet into the ground and holds her other hand up to press on his stomach lightly. "What?"
"I like you, Kat-su-ki, but that's mean."
Katsuki blinks at her in confusion. "It's mean that I'm not dating Deku?"
"Boys can like boys, just like girls like boys. My daddies said so, because they like each other lots. It's not gross." She sticks her nose in the air, challenging him head on. He's seen her shiver at the sight of a stranger, so he's impressed.
He just pats her head. "I know that, gremlin. Doesn't mean that every boy likes every boy."
"Oh. Okay."
He lets her ramble during the rest of their walk, a mix of treatment and kindergarten stories.
Katsuki isn't the best with kids. His mother wasn't the gentlest parent, and while he knows it was out of love, he wouldn't be able to use his tactics on someone else's kid without some eyebrows being raised. Or being arrested. He generally doesn't know how to act around them at all, honestly. He's been forced to attend family events and told to "entertain the children", and he just ends up staring at them. Sometimes they cry from his face. But he's not about to dumb himself down to entertain some brat who can't do basic math.
So when Aizawa-sensei asked him to babysit Eri for the day, he was skeptical. Eri's just about the best kid he knows—and the only one he can tolerate being around. But taking care of her requires some amount of child-rearing skills that he does not think he possesses. Despite that, Katsuki isn't completely heartless. Sensei can't skip his own class, and the gremlin needs to be watched before she goes in for treatment once a week.
She talks so much about it that he entirely forgets their conversation. But she doesn't.
"Who's this cutie?" Izuku grins at her, leaning down.
Eri squints at him. "Are you Deku?"
Izuku's jaw drops a little, glancing between her and Katsuki, who smiles sheepishly. "My name is Izuku. But Kacchan calls me Deku, yes."
"Kacchan." She echoes softly.
Katsuki nudges her slightly. "That easier for you than Katsuki?"
"Kacchan." She repeats, before nodding proudly. "I can say that."
He ruffles her hair in appreciation. "Good work."
She smiles at the praise before turning back to Izuku and bluntly saying, "Kacchan doesn't like you."
"Hah?!"
"What?" Izuku frowns at her slightly, looking up at Katsuki questioningly.
"I never said that, what the hell?"
"Daddy said you can't say that word or it's a dollar for the swear jar." She tugs on his hand. He saw the stupid jar when he stopped by their house to pick her up, and promptly cursed Aizawa-sensei out for it. "And you did say that, when we were walking. That boys can like boys but not every boy likes every boy."
Katsuki gapes at her.
He can see Izuku biting back a laugh out of the corner of his eye. Bastard.
"Yeah I said that, but that doesn't mean..."
She furrows her eyebrows. "So you do like Izuku?"
"I mean, he's fine, I guess. He makes my coffee, even if it's kind of shit." He mumbles.
Izuku's eyes widen, but he stays silent.
"Swear jar!" She says, giddily hopping from foot to foot. "So you guys are gonna get married like my daddies?"
"What!? No!" Katsuki splutters, glaring at Izuku for the small laugh that finally escapes.
"Why not?"
And he doesn't have much of an answer for that. His normal response would be they don't know each other well enough, but that would open a whole can of worms he doesn't want to really deal with. "He looks like he'd hog the entire blanket, and I get cold easily."
She nods sagely, before turning to Izuku and dropping her voice to a whisper, "He does get cold easy. One time he visited me at the hospital, and he was shivering the whole time 'cause the nurses like it cold. I told him we could share my blanket, but he said he doesn't like sharing and refused to get under it. Maybe when you get married you should get two blankets so he isn't grumpy. Except he's usually grumpy."
"Oi!"
"Hospital?" Izuku's voice shifted to something more serious, smile completely dropped.
Katsuki swallows thickly. He was hoping to avoid the entire conversation; he doesn't like telling new people about her condition. They end up overly pitying, overly graphic, or overly caring, all of which are not appreciated by Eri, her parents, or himself. He thinks it should be common sense—a five year old does not need details about how she could die.
"Gremlin likes strawberry cupcakes. You got any?"
Izuku frowns for a moment, before realization crosses his expression. "Yeah, we have some. How many?"
"Two. And my black coffee."
"They're not the same." Eri pouts. "They don't have the frogs."
Katsuki ruffles her hair again. "They'll taste the same. Why don't you go sit down in that booth and draw for a little? I'm just gonna finish paying."
She nods solemnly before slinking over to the table.
"The frogs?"
He turns back to face Izuku, who looks incredibly confused. "The hobo takes her to this fancy bakery normally that does the frosting in the shape of a frog."
Izuku starts entering their order into the register. "The hobo? Is she your sister?"
"What? No. She's Aizawa-sensei's kid. I'm just watchin' her for the day 'cause she's got treatment later. Neuroblastoma." He clarifies before Izuku can ask, because he definitely will. "She's a tough kid—she doesn't let this shit get her down. But she doesn't need a ton of shitty strangers offering condolences they don't fuckin' mean and making her feel worse about it."
"Understood. I won't ask about it." Izuku smiles softly, a stark contrast to his normal grin. "¥550."
"Hah? The coffee is ¥550, what about the cupcakes?"
"On the house."
Katsuki grimaces at that. "We don't need your fuckin' pity, Deku. I can pay for her damn cupcakes."
"It's not pity. I like her. She's a smart and funny kid, even got you a bit tongue-tied. Just paying her back for that entertainment." His smile feels genuine enough that Katsuki can't justify turning down the free food again.
"Fuckin' fine." He rolls his eyes, swiping the card. After a few moments, he finally mumbles a 'thanks'.
"Of course. Now go sit down, I'll bring everything over in a minute."
He nods and heads over to his booth, where Eri has an array of crayons spread across the table. After sitting down and pulling out his own sketchbook, they draw in silence for a little before he gently nudges her ankle with his own. "What are you drawin'?"
"You and Deku getting married." She holds her drawing up with pride. It has Izuku in a fucking wedding dress. Katsuki doesn't know if he should laugh or cry. Luckily, he doesn't have to decide because Izuku cuts in.
"Two strawberry cupcakes and a black coffee?" He places the dishes down carefully.
Eri immediately drops her drawing, letting the paper flutter to the floor in lieu of marveling at the cupcakes. "It's a frog! Do you see, Kacchan! Deku made me a frog! It's just like the bakery except better 'cause Izuku made it and you guys are getting married!"
Katsuki's speechless.
He stares at her blankly, then at Izuku. Doesn't even comment at how inhumanely red Izuku's face gets when he bends down to pick up her drawing and sees what's actually on the piece of paper.
Izuku goes back to the counter, and Eri mentions the frog cupcake fourteen more times before they leave the shop. She mentions his marriage with Izuku sixteen times.
Katsuki feels a little ill.
The feeling gets worse.
"I mean, my shift's about to end and we're going to the same building anyway. Walk with me?"
Katsuki is helpless to the question. That or he genuinely wants to do it, except he hates the cold, especially without his gloves.
He watches Izuku pull them on.
It's been weeks.
Katsuki could ask for them back.
His fingers are numb by the time they part ways.
Days seem to blur, and each time he sees Izuku his stomach winds tighter and tighter until it feels like it'll snap at any second.
He hates the feeling, yet he finds himself on the same path to the shop anyway.
But when he pushes open the door, there's no bright smile to greet him. No messy green hair, no freckles, and absolutely no reason for the ball in his stomach to completely diffuse until he's full of emptiness instead.
"How can I help you." The worker deadpans, not even looking up at him. She's an older woman, one who looks like she's been worn down from years of working in customer service.
"Where's Izuku." Katsuki says bluntly.
The worker looks up for a second, curling her lip at Katsuki's tone. "Sick. Now what can I get you."
"Black coffee."
"For here or to go? It'll be ¥1100."
Katsuki frowns at that. "It's usually ¥550. Did you apply the black coffee discount?"
She stares at him like he's grown a second head. "The what?"
"The black coffee discount? Izuku normally gives it to me."
"That's not a thing." She clicks her tongue. "The only way you'd be paying ¥550 is with an employee discount—50% off."
"What? No. He said you guys are running a promotion on black coffee?"
"Not a thing, kid. Do you want it or not?"
Katsuki opens his mouth and then closes it again, before forcing out, "Yeah. For here. Do you guys get discounts on everything?"
"We get one drink half off per shift." She raises her eyebrow, looking him up and down. "Sorry, but I'm not using mine on you. I need my coffee."
He pays and heads over to his normal booth, getting to work on grading again. The assignments get harder, and in turn he has less to grade considering half the students don't even bother to submit their work.
"One black coffee!" The lady yells from the counter, holding up the mug.
Katsuki sighs and stands up from the booth, gingerly grabbing the cup and making his way back to his seat while trying to make sure he doesn't spill anything. He does anyway, a few drops that stain his socks a dark brown.
When he finally takes a sip, it's black coffee.
Bitter and simple and everything he loves except it's the worst thing he's ever tasted and he kind of wants to throw up.
Every sip makes his stomach turn.
Because Izuku's sick and Katsuki doesn't know where he lives because Izuku is his barista and nothing more and that should be fine but he feels so hollow and he knows how to make a good miso soup and could pick up Izuku's classwork since they're in the same building— except everything is all wrong and Katsuki doesn't know how to fix it at all.
He chugs the rest of his coffee, and heads back home.
Skipping one day of class shouldn't matter too much. Probably.
He can't bring himself to care.
After a full night of tossing and turning, he's pissed. He needs answers.
"Deku."
"Hey Kacchan! Your coffee is already being brewed, don't worry! Sorry I wasn't here yesterday, I wasn't feeling great." Izuku coughs at the end of his sentence, emphasizing his words.
"Do you drink coffee every day?"
Izuku scrunches his face in confusion. "Yes?"
Katsuki squints at him, leaning across the counter until their noses almost brush. "Do you think I'm fuckin' broke or something?"
"Huh?" He blinks rapidly, a stupidly long eyelash fluttering down to his cheek.
"Why the hell would you use your employee discount on me every day if you fuckin' drink coffee? You think I can't pay for myself or something?"
Izuku desperately waves his hands in front of his face. "No! I know you can pay for yourself!"
"Then why?"
"I just wanted to do something nice for you." His cheeks flush a pretty pink, making him even more bitable. "Is that wrong?"
"Yes? You did it on the second fuckin' day I was here, after I was a complete ass to you the first day. Why the hell would you want to do something nice for me?" Katsuki frowns. He knows Izuku is a self-sacrificial kind idiot, but he still has some amount of backbone and fire in him to stand up to Katsuki.
"I like you." Izuku says simply, as if he isn't tilting Katsuki's entire world on its axis. "That'll be ¥550."
Katsuki just stares at him blankly, unmoving.
"Do you not want the coffee anymore?"
"You like me?" He echoes, disbelieving.
"Yeah. So the coffee?"
He slams his hand on the counter. "Fuck the coffee! Why are you still giving me the discount if you drink coffee? This shit's fuckin' expensive."
"I make it at home." Izuku smiles sheepishly. "I actually like black coffee now. I got used to it, and now the bitterness feels kinda sweet."
Katsuki gapes, unable to school his expression at all. "You make it at home." He repeats.
"Yes."
"Because you're using your employee discount on me."
"Yes."
"Because you like me." Katsuki holds his breath without realizing.
"Yes."
He exhales, watching as Izuku continues working like nothing is happening at all. "I don't-I don't know what to say to that."
"That's alright, Kacchan." Izuku looks up from wiping the counter, bright smile stretched across his face. "I'll be here tomorrow. And the day after, and after that. When you know what to say, I'll be here."
Katsuki bites the inside of his cheek, heart pounding in his chest. "You'd have to wait."
"I don't mind waiting." His eyes crinkle even more at the corners. "So, ¥550?"
He swipes his card wordlessly.
Katsuki still doesn't know what to say the next day.
Even as they sit across from each other at his booth, he's confused. With himself, with Izuku, with the whole damn situation.
"Why do you even like me?" He raises an eyebrow. "I'm a fuckin' asshole."
Izuku grins wider at that. "Yeah, you are. But you also buy me coffee when I'm tired and give me gloves so I'm not cold and sign petitions for causes you don't care about and draw pictures of me. You act like you don't care, but I know Eri means the world to you and that you do cancer research for her. Even though you call him the hobo, you drop everything to help Aizawa-sensei out. And from my conversation with your roommates, I know you take care of them too, even if they're just extras to you."
He doesn't have a response for that, so he just takes a big sip of his coffee and the spice from the chai warms him from the inside out.
Two weeks pass.
Katsuki goes in every day, and leaves even more confused.
He always thought he had a good read on himself. That he knew himself like the back of his hand, because he's been the same way his entire life. His love for consistency starts with himself, and the way he has the same bedtime routine from his childhood.
But every time he tries to step into his normal, it feels wrong.
So he does what can. Beats the shit out of Kirishima.
"Why are you so mad?" Kirishima huffs, out of breath from dodging Katsuki's swings.
"I'm not mad, Shitty Hair. Fucking hit me back already."
"I'm trying to!"
Katsuki scoffs at that. "Then try harder, you're not even fucking close." Untrue. Kirishima has definitely grazed him, but that's irrelevant.
He's already swinging his fist at full power when Kirishima lowers his gloves from his face. The punch connects with a sickening crunch, Kirishima reeling backwards from the impact and pain. Blood drips out of his nose to the floor.
His stomach drops. "Shit! What the fuck was that?"
"I didn't think you were gonna hit me." Kirishima groans, yanking off his gloves to grab onto his nose.
Katsuki climbs out of the ring, grabbing his bag filled with water, bandages, and tissues. "Are you stupid? We're fucking boxing. The fuck else am I gonna do?"
"Well, I wanted to talk to you about whatever is bothering you." Kirishima sits criss-cross on the mat, grabbing the tissues and dabbing at his bloody nose. "There's obviously something wrong, and you can't use boxing to solve everything."
"I can try." Katsuki mutters.
"Nope. Talk."
He rolls his eyes. "What if I don't?"
"I think you just broke my nose. You owe me."
Which like, fair. But also it isn't his fault the idiot lowered his defense while Katsuki was still swinging. "Fucking fine."
"Sit." Kirishima pats the mat in front of him, and Katsuki sits down. Moments pass in silence until Kirishima prompts him, "So?"
"So what?"
"What's bothering you?" He pulls the tissue back, frowning at the blood soaking straight through. Katsuki stares as more blood drips straight down into his lap. "It has something to do with Izuku, right?"
Katsuki's eyes dart up immediately at the mention, shock making his body go rigid. "The fuck? Why would you assume that?"
"Because you care?" Katsuki opens his mouth to refute the claim, but Kirishima continues before he can, "I know you care. Doesn't matter what you say, I've seen the way you act when you don't care about something, and it's not even close."
"Fuck off." Katsuki scowls.
"It's not a bad thing to care, Bakugou." Kirishima smiles despite the blood dripping onto his lip. Fucking nasty. Katsuki takes a swig of his own water to clear the phantom taste. "So, you in love with him?"
He chokes a little at that, coughing up the water he tried to swallow. "What the hell?"
"You didn't deny it."
Katsuki wipes the water off of his mouth. "Love is a strong word."
"So you like him?"
"Didn't say that either."
"Then what?"
He rubs his eyes, the dark spots crowding his vision rather comforting. "He likes me."
"He told you?"
"Yes."
Kirishima schools his expression, fingers tapping the mat rapidly being the only sign of his excitement. Knowing him, he's probably about to burst with it. "And what did you say?"
"I said I didn't know what to say to that."
"Was he upset?"
"No." Katsuki sighs. It would almost be easier if Izuku was upset. He knows how to deal with that—with this, he's lost. "He said he'd wait for me to figure it out."
Kirishima tips his head. "Then what's the problem?"
"I still haven't figured it out." The words taste like poison in his mouth.
"Figured out if you like him?"
"I don't date." He says bluntly.
Kirishima smiles like he's got it all figured out, which pisses him off exponentially, especially considering the sleepless nights he's spent trying to understand it himself. "Why exactly, don't you date?"
"Because I don't like people in that way." The answer seems obvious enough.
"But you like Izuku in that way."
Katsuki pauses at that. Recounts the actions Izuku had laid out plainly for him, the knot in his stomach, the emptiness. He's not stupid—he's heard enough about romance from everyone else to know what it's supposed to feel like. "I guess."
"So then you can date." Kirishima says it like it's the easiest thing in the world.
"But I don't date." Katsuki emphasizes the word.
"You haven't dated in the past because you didn't have those feelings. Now you do, so you can date. What's the problem?"
"The problem is that everything will change." The words leave his mouth without him realizing, without him even knowing that was the problem in the first place. "Everything will change and I will change and it won't be the way it used to be ever again."
Kirishima smiles softly, like he expected that answer. "I know. But it already has. Are you really going to sit here and act like you're the same person you were before you met him? If someone stopped you in the cold and asked you to sign a petition back then you would've told them to shove it up their ass. It wouldn't have mattered who it was. And now that you've met him, do you really think there's a possibility of you going back to who you were?"
"No." He whispers.
"If you can't go back, the only other option is forward. There's no point in being stuck in the middle forever when you're suffering. You're scared of the change, but it can't be worse than being here."
"Whatever." Katsuki hates when he's right. "Go bandage your shitty nose so I can take you to the hospital."
"Aye, aye, captain!" Kirishima salutes like a fucking idiot.
Katsuki rolls his eyes and stands, grabbing Kirishima's hand and yanking him up. "Thanks, I guess." He mutters.
"Of course bro, I can't have you pining forever!"
Katsuki cringes, and feels slightly less guilty for the broken nose that comes up on the X-ray.
The next time he enters the coffee shop, he stays late. Exactly five minutes before Izuku's shift is supposed to end. Which now that he thinks about it, knowing that information probably should've been a clue to how he feels, but whatever. Irrelevant now.
He doesn't hesitate to storm up to cash register where Izuku is wiping down the counter.
"Hey Kacchan! Did you need something else?" Izuku's cheery grin makes his stomach lurch, but this time, he doesn't completely hate it.
"I like you." He says the words as simply as Izuku did back then, because he finally understands. The world isn't tilting on its axis at all—not when saying something that has always been true anyway.
Izuku doesn't flinch in the slightest. The only evidence he even heard Katsuki is the pink that covers the rounds of his cheeks. "That's good."
"It is."
He finishes cleaning and tosses out the wet wipe, before pulling off his gloves and standing in front of Katsuki again. "So now what?"
Katsuki just stares at him for a second. Mainly because for once in his life, he hadn't thought that far ahead.
So he just does the first thing he thinks of instead.
He leans forward, grasps Izuku's apron and pulls him in for a kiss.
It's a bit awkward, considering the counter between them, but Katsuki can't bring himself to care with warm lips against his. Izuku tastes bitter, bitter like the black coffee that Katsuki got him to enjoy, and Katsuki knows he tastes sweet like the vanilla bean latte Izuku made for him. Izuku wraps his hand around the back of Katsuki's neck, pulling him in closer and threading his fingers through the short hair there.
When he finally pulls back, Izuku's smile is the widest he's ever seen. He stares at Katsuki like he's the eighth wonder of the world, and Katsuki wants to keep his starry eyes on him at all times. Wants to keep that smile forever.
He finally understands.
"Can I walk you to class?"
Izuku presses his lips together and nods, pulling off his apron and shrugging on his puffer coat. Katsuki doesn't even notice Izuku putting on his own black gloves until his hand is engulfed in warmth.
And as they walk to class in the disgusting sludge of colorful leaves, Katsuki thinks fall is slightly less terrible when his coffee is a little sweet.