#now I just need to find another game that does fancy dagger stuf

[blackkatdraws2]

Guess who's been REALLY into Ultrakill lately....

Me... [Achromatic Loop AU]

↓ [Original references below] ↓

Artist: @Fun_Kayy on Twitter.

Both drawings are inspired by Ultrakill's cover art 🔥

[amaanogawa]

words can’t espresso how much you mean to me

Pairing: KuroDai

"(Long story short, Kuroo slipped into Daichi’s life where he fits like a puzzle piece, like he was always meant to be there, and it had all somehow started with a cup of overpriced coffee and a lopsided smile.)" 

A Coffee Shop AU.

word count: 3,754

also available on AO3

Daichi wonders how, in a year of 365 days that should logically all be 24 hours long, he is currently stuck in the longest day known to man.

It is only 11AM and so far he has successfully slept in for a final exam worth half of his overall grade, slipped and fell on the ice patch on his front steps evident by the large black bruise spreading across his ass, gotten splashed by an onslaught of slush spraying up from a passing car, missed his bus, and then had to bear the embarrassment of waddling into his lecture hall soaking wet and nearly an hour late. His professor had just given him an obvious once-over before pointing to an empty seat at the front of the class. It wasn’t until after Daichi took his seat that he realized he forgot to bring a pencil.

And that brings him to now, standing outside victim to the blistering winds of winter, snow soaking through his shoes and a sigh weighing heavily in his chest.

He needs caffeine.

Daichi’s usual go-to would be canned coffee from the vending machine outside his lecture hall, or maybe the dollar coffees in his school canteen, considering he’s a student and he’s got to pull stops where he can. But on this day he thinks that he wouldn’t mind finding a slightly nicer café, with coffee that doesn’t taste like burnt grass and maybe a nice buttery pastry. He remembers the café that he passes by on his way home every day, one that looked too trendy and overpriced for him to ever step foot in on a normal day. That one would do just fine.

He trudges onwards, ass sore and hands stuffed in his pockets, until he sees the familiar logo of a sitting cat emblazoned over the store front sign. A small bell on the door jingles as he walks in, and an immediate aroma of coffee washes over him. There’s a fireplace, and some comfy looking couches, and yea, this was definitely what he needed today. As Daichi approaches the counter, he’s slightly intimidated by the menu- he has no idea what anything is.

“Hello hello, you’re a new face.” A figure saunters up from behind the counter, all long legs clad in tight black jeans, a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a half-apron tied around his waist. He’s got a crooked smile smug enough that it makes Daichi clench his teeth, sharp eyes and the most ridiculous hair Daichi has ever seen in his life. “What can I get you?”

“Uh.” Daichi says, sliding his eyes back up to the menu and squinting. “Can I get a recommendation?”

The man hums, cocking his head to one side. “Something sweet?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“The mocha or peppermint lattes are popular this time of year. You could double dip and go for the peppermint mocha.”

“That sounds great.”

“Whipped cream?”

“Sure.”

The man grins, plucks a cup from the pile, marker ready in his other hand. “Can I get your name? For the cup.”

Daichi looks around pointedly- there’s not a single other person in line.

“Is that really necessary?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He sighs. “It’s Sawamura. And could I also get one of the chocolate croissants, please.”

“Sa-wa-mu-ra. So that’s one medium peppermint mocha,” the barista enunciates his name with a syrupy sweet smile, writing each character onto the paper cup before setting it down and reaching for the metal tongs, clicking them together with one hand while punching a few buttons on the cash register with the other. “And a chocolate croissant. That’ll be $8.49.”

Daichi almost chokes on his own tongue. He could buy five shitty burnt-grass coffees with that money, with some change left over for a snack. He could probably buy lunch and dinner with that money, if he were feeling particularly frugal. But he grits his teeth, pulls his wallet from his back pocket and tugs a ten dollar bill out.

“But luckily for you, we have a one-time only, complimentary order for first time customers who look like they’re having a hell of a bad day.”

He eyes the barista wearily. “Excuse me?”

The man just smiles, pops Daichi’s croissant into the toaster and busies himself with making Daichi’s coffee order. Daichi has no idea what’s going on, his mind muddy from sleep deprivation and stress, but he slowly places the ten dollar bill back into his wallet.

“Sawamura-san!” The barista calls his name from the other end of the counter, setting down a plate with his pastry on it, as well as a cup of coffee with a swirl of whipped cream so large that Daichi’s thinking it can’t possibly be the standard amount. There's even red and green tinted sugar crystals sprinkled daintily on top. The man’s eyes squint when he smiles this way, observant and thoughtful in a way that betrays his appearance. “Here’s your order, enjoy.”

Daichi takes the plate and the cup in weary hands. He bothers looking at the nametag pinned to the man’s shirt for the first time since entering the café.

“Thanks.” He says, walking over to the plush couch next to the fireplace. A groan works its way out of his chest when he sinks into the soft cushions, setting his plate onto the small coffee table in front of him and cradling his hot beverage between his fingers. He can’t even bring himself to think about how he’s got three more exams in the next week and he already feels like he needs to pass out. Absentmindedly he brings the cup to his mouth.

Holy crap.

His drink is downright delicious. It’s minty and chocolatey with an edge of bitterness from the coffee that definitely doesn’t taste like burnt grass, coating his tongue in a warm, rich happiness. Daichi leans his head back and closes his eyes.

He doesn’t think he’s going to be able to go back to canned coffee after this. Damnit.

“How’s the drink?” The barista calls from behind the counter, crooked smile on his face as he leans on his elbows. Daichi slides his eyes over, already feeling a lot better than he had when he stepped foot into the café.

“It’s great.” He says, a small smile finding its way to his lips. “I think you just saved my entire day.”

“Glad to hear it.” The barista, Kuroo, says. “Hope your day gets better from here on out, Sawamura.”

--

Daichi returns to Nekoma Coffee after his next exam. It went pretty well for the most part which is a relief, but he’s running on 3 hours of sleep and desperately needs a pick me up. He pushes the worn handle of the wooden door, stepping into the comfortable warmth of the café before reaching to brush the snowflakes out of his hair. When Daichi looks up, Kuroo is smiling over from behind the counter.

“Hey, Sawamura! I was wondering when you’d stop by again. Give me a sec and I’ll be right over to take your order.”

There’s another barista here this time, a small blond boy leaning against the back wall of their work area playing a handheld game console instead of helping Kuroo with their customers. Kuroo’s hands are flying, making drinks with practiced ease and quickly calling out name after name. It really doesn’t take long before he’s walking up behind the cash register, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Sorry for the wait. You’re looking a lot better than last time I saw you.” Kuroo grins. “Looks like my peppermint mocha did wonders, huh?”

Daichi raises his brows. ”I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult, really.”

“I’ll leave it up to you to decide.” Kuroo hums, plucking a cup from the pile. “What’s it gonna be today?”

“I thought I’d go with another recommendation, if you’re up to it. Something simple.”

“Let’s start you out with a latte, then.” He punches a few buttons on the register. “That’ll be $3.85.”

Daichi hands Kuroo a five dollar bill and stuffs his change in the tip jar before heading to the end of the counter to wait for his order. Watching Kuroo work, Daichi thinks that he’s never seen anyone move with such fluidity as Kuroo does. He moves gracefully, which is really a strange word to describe part-time coffee making but there’s not really any other way to describe it so much as grace. He pours the milk into Daichi’s cup, jiggling the small metal pitcher back and forth before finishing in a gentle swipe of his arm.

“One latte.” Kuroo says, placing the cup on the counter. Daichi stares.

“There’s a leaf in my coffee.” He says, surprised. “That’s amazing, did they teach you that here?”

“No, I get bored on slow days so I youtubed tutorials and practiced on my own.” Kuroo chuckles, handing Daichi a lid. “I can do a few other designs, but right now I’m learning how to draw a cat.”

“Wow.” Daichi picks up his drink and notices the writing on his cup. Thanks A Latte! is written neatly on the paper, with a small drawing of a cartoon coffee cup smiling and waving. Daichi raises his brows, looking up at Kuroo, unimpressed. “That’s awful, Kuroo.”

Kuroo just grins, lopsided and soft, and Daichi has to admit that maybe there’s more reason to stop by than just the fancy coffee.

--

Nekoma Coffee quickly becomes a permanent part of Daichi’s routine. He stops by so often after his classes that Kuroo soon memorizes his class schedule and often has a drink already waiting for him by the time he gets there. It’s a different drink every time and there’s always a personalized message written on it- a pun bad enough that it has Daichi glaring daggers, or sometimes an oddly thoughtful reminder to get some more sleep instead of just overloading on caffeine.

(You Mocha Me Crazy!, Where Have You Bean All My Life?, and You’re Brew-tiful! being a few that Daichi cut from their cups and pinned to a cork board in his room because he couldn’t bring himself to throw them out.)

When Daichi’s gone through Nekoma Coffee’s entire menu, Kuroo starts making drinks off what he calls their ‘secret menu’, which is really just bizarre concoctions of his own making that logically shouldn’t ever work together. Daichi begrudgingly admits that they’re usually delicious.

(They don’t talk about the iced 5 shot 3 pumps pumpkin sauce, dirty chai with oat milk. It’s a traumatic experience that they chalk up to Kuroo’s momentary insanity.)

One day, Daichi has to stay behind to speak with his professor about their term paper. As a result, he’s over an hour late showing up to grab his drink, which of course had long gone cold. Kuroo suggests that Daichi take his phone number so he can text Kuroo in case something like this happens again- purely for practicality’s sake, of course. Daichi agreed, feeling a little guilty that he had wasted a perfectly good drink, but by the time he got home he already had four unread texts from Kuroo, all unrelated to coffee.

Kuroo texts Daichi way too much for someone that he sees almost every day. Daichi doesn’t tell him so.

It’s midterm season when Daichi stops by, not having slept in nearly four days, and decides to rest his eyes on the couch for just a few moments. By the time he wakes, it’s past opening hours and the coffee shop is empty. There’s an unfamiliar jacket covering him, and Kuroo is behind the counter humming softly to himself as he wipes down the table.

Daichi had apologized profusely, face burning red. Kuroo only laughed before telling him that he’s almost done closing, and since he has nothing else to do for the night and he’s such an incredibly nice person, he’ll walk Daichi home.

(Long story short, Kuroo slipped into Daichi’s life where he fits like a puzzle piece, like he was always meant to be there, and it had all somehow started with a cup of overpriced coffee and a lopsided smile.)

--

“So this is your new secret hang out spot, huh?”

“It’s not really a secret at all…” Daichi says, pushing the door open. “They have good coffee and I’m friends with the barista, so I come often.”

Suga just hums, looking around the coffee shop. “It’s a nice plac- woah-”

It’s busier than usual today and Suga stumbles over someone’s foot, grabbing onto Daichi’s sleeve to steady himself.

“You okay?” Wrapping his arm around Suga’s waist, Daichi pulls him further from the crowd waiting to pick up their drinks, and into the line waiting to order. Kuroo is behind the cash register, face looking a little pinched. Probably because there are so many customers that even Kozume is helping out, the edge of his game console peeking out from his apron pocket.

“Hey, Kuroo.” Daichi greets. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kozume move that fast before.”

“Sawamura.” Kuroo’s tone is light, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yea, well, it’s all hands on deck right now as you can see. What’ll it be?”

“Any additions to the secret menu?”

The response is curt. “Not today.”

Daichi frowns, slightly concerned, but figures that it’s just from a stressful day of work. He makes a mental note to bring Kuroo some lunch tomorrow to cheer him up, and quickly places his order so that he doesn’t hold up the line.

“What are you having, Suga?”

Suga is still studying the menu with a concentrated stare, but turns when Daichi calls him, batting his lashes.

“Are you paying? Aw, Daichi, you’re so good to me.” Kuroo’s expression is getting tighter by the minute, so Daichi ignores Suga’s sarcasm for the moment and opts to get out of Kuroo’s hair before they cause any more inconveniences. “Hurry up and order, already. We’re holding up the line.” “Yes, yes, geez, you’re so feisty. I’ll get a medium iced matcha latte.”

After paying and waiting for a few minutes, Kozume approaches the counter with their drinks. He holds them in his hands without a word, first sliding his eyes from Daichi, to Suga, to Kuroo, and then returns to Daichi, staring with a mysterious intensity before finally handing them the order.

“Uh, thanks, Kozume.” Daichi tries a friendly smile, but it’s promptly ignored.

He can’t seem to catch Kuroo’s eye, either. More than a bit confused, Daichi exits Nekoma Coffee with Suga behind him.

“What was with the blond employee?” Suga laughs, sipping on his drink. “How’d you piss him off?”

“I swear, I don’t know. I’ve barely even spoken to him before…”

His words trail off as turns the paper cup around in his hands, suddenly realizing that the writing he had gotten so used to over the past couple weeks was missing. There was no pun, no silly cartoon drawing- just a plain brown cup. For some reason, the sight of the barren paper makes an unknown feeling turn round and round in the pit of his stomach.

“Daichi? Something wrong?” Suga leans over, frowning. “Why do you look upset?”

“It’s nothing,” Daichi says with a small shrug. “It’s just, Kuroo, the barista back there. He always writes something on my coffee cup and this time he didn’t. Kinda weird is all.”

“Writes? Like what?”

“Usually a joke. Sometimes a reminder to eat more than just cup ramen. It’s nice- he’s nice. He’s a really nice guy.”

Suga’s stare is piercing. “Daichi. You didn’t tell me you were dating someone.”

“Huh? I’m not.”

An expressive facial journey is laying itself out on Suga’s face right before Daichi’s eyes. Irritation. Exasperation. Bemusement. Confusion. And then, finally, understanding.

“Oh, sweetie.” Suga says, voice dripping with a tone that feels too much like pity to be genuinely sympathetic. He lays a light hand on Daichi’s shoulder and shakes his head. “Oh, Daichi.”

“What?” Daichi demands, more than a slight edge to his voice. “Spit it out, already. You know I hate when you patronize.”

“You didn’t really think that he was just being a friendly neighbourhood barista, did you? He goes through the trouble of writing something cute on your coffee cup for weeks and you think he’s just, what, giving great customer service?” Suga huffs, placing a hand on his hip. “Let me lay it out for you: he wants to climb you like a tree, Daichi. He wants you to give him some great customer service, if you know what I mean. He wants your- mmf!”

Daichi clamps his hand over Suga’s mouth mid-sentence, a flush already working itself across the height of his cheekbones.

“Kuroo does not,” he hisses through his teeth, “want any of those things. We’re just friends.”

Suga raises his brows, then fixes Daichi with his look that specifically asks: are you sure? And throughout the history of their friendship, if Daichi is sure about anything, it’s that when Suga gives anyone this look it means that they are in fact not sure, no matter how sure they think they are.

So begrudgingly, he takes his hand off of Suga’s face and steps back. He reconsiders. True, Kuroo has been very friendly since the first time they met. He did give Daichi a free drink, but he had said that it was the store’s policy or something, so that doesn’t mean anything. And then there were the jokes and the little notes, but he feels like that’s just the way Kuroo is? And sure, Kuroo had walked him home a few times, and there was the smiling, and the teasing, and the half-lidded stares, and- Oh.

“Shit.” Daichi whispers, before he turns around on his heel and books it back the way they just came. “That’s what I thought!” Suga’s laughter trails behind him, no doubt paired with a roll of his eyes. Daichi hates when Suga is right. It fuels his already larger than life ego, but for good reason he supposes, because Suga is almost always right. Daichi both loves and hates that about him.

He bursts into the cafe, red in the face and short of breath. Kuroo is in the middle of writing a customer’s name on a cup when Daichi makes his appearance, jumping as the door swings open and slams loudly against the door stop. He turns, infuriatingly handsome as ever, even with his eyes wide and mouth half open in shock.

“Sawamura? What’s going on?”

“Have,” Daichi wheezes, doubling over to catch his breath for a moment, “have you been flirting with me?”

Kuroo is staring, brows raised high. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again before he finally speaks with disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

“Have you?”

“Look,” Kuroo says sheepishly, glancing off to the side. “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble between you and your boyfriend. I didn’t know-”

“Suga isn’t my boyfriend.” Daichi interrupts, furrowing his brows in confusion.

Kuroo’s head snaps up at this, and again he looks like he’s imitating a fish with the way his mouth hangs half open. “Wait, seriously? I thought for sure-”

“Answer the question, Kuroo. Have you been hitting on me this entire time?”

“Well, no shit.” Kuroo frowns. “Of course I have. Wasn’t it obvious?”

“But you never-” Daichi can feel the blush start to burn across his cheeks. He feels like an idiot, but there’s no way he could have known when Kuroo was so stupidly vague about it. “You never actually said anything. I didn’t know.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then two. Daichi’s sweating.

“You’re joking.” Kuroo says, slowly. “You actually believed that our shop has a complimentary order for first time customers having a bad day or whatever the hell I made up on the spot that day?”

Daichi’s entire face is on fire. No, scratch that. His entire existence is on fire. Maybe if he just gave it some time he’d burn up completely and disappear into thin air. He raises his arms to hide his crimson face, heart pounding in his ears. Every customer in the cafe is staring, their heads swivelling back and forth between the two of them as they speak, like they’re watching a tennis match.

“I didn’t think you were lying,” Daichi finally says, words muffled.

The silence is suffocating. All eyes are on him, possibly the densest person in existence, who had an unfairly good looking barista hitting on him for over two months without any idea at all. A barista who also happens to be kind and funny and smart and has really pretty eyes that shine golden in the sunlight. Who happens to be Kuroo. Daichi wants to sink into the earth.

“Sawamura,” Kuroo says, a hint of bemusement starting to creep its way onto his voice, “for an incredibly intelligent guy, you are maybe the stupidest person I’ve ever met.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to date me anymore?” Daichi blurts, peeking out from between his arms. He figures that since he was already doomed to move away from this town forever and pursue a life of monkhood due to embarrassment, he might as well make sure of where he and Kuroo stand.

Instead, Kuroo is just smiling softly, with a look that could only be interpreted as fondness.

Maybe more, if you looked closely.

“No, I do.” He says, smile growing. “With all my heart. Let me take you out, Sawamura.”

Daichi can’t possibly speak right now, but somehow he manages a shaky nod. Before Kuroo can respond, the entire coffee shop erupts in applause, wolf whistles and cheers all around them. Daichi’s about to pass out- he has never been so embarrassed in his life. But he doesn’t regret turning and running back the moment he figured it out, not one bit. He thinks, maybe, for Kuroo, he’d even choose to do it all over again.

(Later that night, when Kuroo kisses him on his doorstep, Daichi isn’t surprised to find that he somehow tastes like coffee, even after wine and dinner and popcorn at the movies.)

(Daichi isn't sure how, in an hour of 60 minutes that should logically all be 60 seconds long, time slows down around him when Kuroo kisses him the way he does, soft and slow with his thumb just grazing the edge of Daichi's jaw.)

(He chooses not to question it.)