Chapter Text
Bakugou Katsuki can tell exactly what's going on in Midoriya Izuku's head.
Of course, it's not like the guy is hard to read. He's easier to read than a fucking children's book. With three words per page. Specifically, "I like you." Over and over again. Sometimes, even a "God, you're cute." Or, if Katsuki was extremely lucky, and Deku had lost his tight-lippedness, just "Goddamn".
At least, that seems to be his thought process every time someone cute walks into the café.
But first, Katsuki should probably backtrack a little. Just to give context on how long this goddamn insanity has been going on.
Midoriya Izuku probably thinks early mornings are the kindest time of day. He's probably thankful that all anyone wants when the sun rises before they have to trudge off to work is a cup of coffee, please. He's in the eye of the storm that's literally every other shift besides the early morning and the late night one.
Personally, Katsuki's much more fond (if that's even the word he can tag on to it - he's never really felt fond of anything) of late mornings, all through the lunch rush. With drink spillages, food disasters, complaints, and interns scurrying in to pick up 'six bagels, eight cups of black coffee and just a croissant, thanks so much', he's never short of things to do.
Which makes a lot of sense since Katsuki's passion is multitasking. It's almost as if managing several tasks at once is second nature to him by this point. If he had to sit down, stay still and just breathe for a minimum of five seconds, he'd probably have a fit and throw the chair he was sitting on instead. In the end, things like the hustle and bustle of a café late in the day are what calms him, in some fucked up way.
There are other employees, of course, but it’s not like Katsuki really takes any note of them. Even if they shared his shift, they were as good as dead to him. And that's saying something, since he nearly occupied every shift apart from the late evening and late night one. (He claimed it wasn't busy enough for him.)
Deku is different from all of them, though.
Deku is far, far more irritating.
It's not like the dipshit knows it either, what with that cheery smile of his that brightened the day of everyone who ordered from him before the day even started, the sparkling eyes that said that they were safe from the constraints of time for as long as they sat in the coffee shop. He didn't just look like an airhead. He was an airhead.
And yet, despite being such an infuriating presence, this airhead was still co-top employee. Tying with Katsuki, of all people.
Why?
Need he repeat that again? Okay. Why?
Once, he'd let a thought cross his mind: that maybe it was something to do with his own dismissive, cold attitude towards the customers. His eye-rolling. And possibly, his sass. Yes, he might be an extremely hard worker, but all his other characteristics still made him no more popular with everyone that came in than it did with the rest of the staff. Meanwhile, Deku worked just one shift, but kept everyone happy. He was always asking about someone's family, laughing at someone's joke, talking animatedly about some nerd film he'd just seen with someone he'd just met. No wonder everyone liked him. Everyone but Katsuki, of course.
That didn't make him any less of an airhead though. Especially since recently, he'd been messing up a hell of a lot more than normal. Misinterpreting the last couple of orders, spilling the last three drinks and even mixing up the ones he'd corrected. The owner of the coffee shop had let it slide for now, but Katsuki sure as hell was at the end of his rope.
After watching Izuku apologise profusely to the sixth customer this week, he can't help but clench his fist tighter on his tray. This was beyond pathetic. How can he consider this guy his rival anymore when he suddenly has the memory span and coordination of a fucking goldfish floundering in mud?
Especially since he knows the exact fucking cause of it all.
Todoroki Shouto.
Like Katsuki always says, he can tell exactly what's going on in Deku's head.
Every morning shift, Deku greets him cheerfully and stretches before putting on his apron. Katsuki routinely grunts in response and tosses his own on haphazardly.
Then they take their places, Deku behind the counter, and Katsuki by the machines, with his mop on hand in case he had to dash out to clean up spillages, and his notepad tucked in his apron for food orders thought up halfway through a drink. Deku had asked him before if he should take up either task to lighten the burden, but Katsuki, being a dick, had just told him to stand nice and pretty behind the counter or he'd glue his ass to it.
Let it be said that Katsuki had no sympathy. He was well aware of it. The more he had to do, the better. There was nothing Bakugou Katsuki couldn't handle, and if Deku ever abandoned this job, he'd do just fine filling in this entire shift all by himself.
So that's where Deku stands every morning, lest Katsuki eye him with malicious intent whenever he leaves his post.
And that's where this entire problem started.
See, Deku does this thing. This thing that's so painfully mushy it physically hurts Katsuki. Every day. If he likes a customer, for some reason or other, he writes their name on the cup with a little more bounce to it. Makes it a little more cursive, Katsuki doesn't know how to describe it. He just.. knows.
There's not even any smiley face, no heart or anything. It's kind of dumb, because it's not like Katsuki's going to stop him if he writes his number on the bottom of the cup or something. If he'd even make a fucking move or something on these guys he thought were cute, Katsuki would've been fucking grateful, because at least it would show he wasn't a coward at least.
But nada. Zip. Zilch. This is how it goes: hot guy walks in; Deku dreamily doodles his name and nothing else; Deku hands the cup over to Katsuki with the order; Katsuki sees the obvious lack of a phone number and makes the order as angrily as possible; hot guy gets his order and nothing else, and leaves.
And the cycle repeats.
Katsuki has contemplated numerous times just getting Deku's number so he can pass it on to one of these fuckers, for no other reason than getting him to actually stop daydreaming at the counter and get back to his job once his love life is finally in motion. But he's pretty sure that's against the café rules or some shit like that.
And so he's perfectly fine (read: not fine at all) with seeing this occur every day. Every day for a year.
Truthfully, Katsuki would have been much less bothered had he only noticed it from time to time, but his hyperactive brain wasn't having it. Since a month into his job when he'd noticed this strange occurrence, he's become unwillingly more and more acute to reading Deku's handwriting and matching it with what he liked about the newest guy.
A flourished first letter. Okay, so he fell in love with the fucker's eyes right off the bat, Katsuki thinks hopelessly, making the hot chocolate. What kind of Josh even likes hot chocolate anyway? He shudders as he rings up the order.
A tail-end flick right at the end of the name. Okay, so it was the smile that made the lasting impression on the nerd. Katsuki knows this because every single 'tail-end flick' asshole that walks in smiles again at Deku as they walk out, and he watches as the guy practically melts at the counter. Fucking hopeless.
Katsuki wants to tell him one of these days to stop the goddamn pity party, get the fuck out from behind the counter (yes, for once, he's permitting it, but only for this sole reason) and talk to one of his puppy crushes before Katsuki implodes with frustration.
Then one day, he arrives.
Todoroki Shouto.
He gives Deku his full name with a deadpan expression, which is mistake number 1. It's like he's never been in a café before. Then, he leaves the café while Katsuki makes his order. What the ever-loving fuck? At this point, Katsuki wouldn't be surprised if he lost his way and couldn't find his way back to get his fucking... what the hell was this combination... a triple, venti, half sweet, non-fat, caramel macchiato? He didn't even know they sold shit like that. Half sweet? How the hell do you even make something half sweet? Fuck, guess he had to check the manual for once.
As Katsuki mixes his drink, he does his routinely scan over Deku's handwriting and-
Jesus Christ.
There's fucking flourishes all over the place, tail-end flick be damned. He even dotted the fucking i on 'Todoroki', for God's sake.
He looks up in annoyance at the barista at the other end of the counter, who's still lost in his daydream. Even when he slams his palm hard on the counter to jolt him back into reality, he doesn't stir. Damn it. This could be the worst one yet.
Finally, Shouto walks back into the café, letting a small smile grace his features as he picks up the drink thankfully from Katsuki, who sneers at him in return. His half-red, half-white fringe falls a little over his eyes as he turns back to Deku to thank him.
Deku startles back into action, spouting out pointless phrases like 'it's no problem' and 'please come again'.
When Shouto finally leaves, Katsuki rolls his eyes. So physical violence as motivation wouldn't work, but a little smile from some polite as fuck, airheaded half and half bastard did? Tsk.
They were both airheads. They could have each other.
And as the weeks go by and Deku continues to fuck up at his job every time Shouto rolled up to the café early in the morning, Katsuki starts to formulate a plan.
Because if dumbass Deku wasn't going to get himself a boyfriend, and this guy kept ruining Katsuki's life, then dammit, Katsuki was gonna get one for him.
Fuck the café rules.