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Despite finding almost everything in life to be a hassle, Nagi Seishiro is good at his job.
Most of the time.
Except when Reo Mikage is involved.
Every single time he comes in—on Friday's, around 5:30 PM, drinking coffee in the evening like an absolute maniac—Seishiro makes a complete fool of himself.
Making shitty overpriced coffee is something Seishiro could do in his sleep.
Making shitty overpriced coffee for the very pretty, very rich, super elite Reo Mikage?
Seishiro can't do it to save his damn life.
The stupid princess gets a kick out of it every single time. Right now is just another instance of Seishiro's no good, terrible, very bad luck.
It's right as Reo is walking in that Seishiro's shoelaces decide to magically untie themselves, causing him to trip fairly pathetically over his own two feet. He tries to catch himself on the counter, taking out a stack of plastic cups as he goes down, adding insult to injury as they pelt him in the head.
Chigiri snorts, peeking his head out from the double doors. Seishiro flips him off from his place on the floor, considering becoming one with the earth and never getting up again.
“You okay over there, Nagi?” Reo asks, peering over the counter curiously.
“Yeah, I'm good, just—” Seishiro starts, then proceeds to become not good as he hits his head on the overhanging wood of the counter. “Ow.”
Thankfully, Reo finds charm in Seishiro's idiocy.
He laughs good-naturedly, arms folded and nails pristine as always as Seishiro attempts to rise up again, succeeding to function like a normal human being.
For now.
Seishiro knows it won't be long before Murphy's Law kicks in and something goes wrong, whether that be Seishiro spilling hot coffee all over his atrociously blue apron for the third time this month, or the world suddenly tilting off his axis and landing Seishiro right into Reo's waiting arms.
It's happened before, it can happen again.
“I promise this doesn't always happen.” Seishiro says for what feels like the nth time.
Reo smiles, polite and gentle. It's not a special look, Seishiro has to remind himself. He probably looks at everyone like that.
“Just around me?” Reo teases.
“Yup.” Seishiro admits honestly, ears warming beneath his hair.
At that, Seishiro swears something in Reo's smile shifts—something in the corners growing sharper, more feral, more human—like he takes pride in knowing Seishiro is a fool for him.
“I'm flattered.”
Seishiro wants to tell him he shouldn't be, really, it's nothing to be impressed over. Or at least not in a good way. But while Seishiro may not be good at his job when Reo is around, he is good about knowing when to shut up, and doesn't say anything else, just nodding and beginning to make Reo's regular sugary drink.
“So, how's your day been?” Reo asks.
Reo's good at small talk. Seishiro? Not so much. He can barely talk-talk. Questions like such usually annoy him for no apparent reason, but with Reo, it doesn't seem to bother him. He'd mentioned that to Chigiri once, who'd just laughed in Seishiro's face.
“It's been fine, I guess. Kind of lame.” Better, now, Seishiro thinks. Any day he's graced with a head of purple hair and violet eyes is a good day.
“Just ‘fine’? If I were here earlier, I would've made sure your day was full of excitement. That way, you'd never be bored.” Reo begins to ramble proudly—another common thing for the younger male to do. It's cute every time he starts going off on a tangent. Seishiro always finds himself hanging off every word.
“That sounds like a pain.” Seishiro says, grateful his back is still turned and Reo can't see the blush spread across his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
The drink is done far too soon.
Seishiro only slightly prides himself on not spilling it on himself or Reo as he hands the cup over. It would extend the conversation, but also be incredibly awkward. And possibly result in another hand burn Seishiro does not want his roommate, Isagi, to be forced to treat.
“No silly nickname today?” Reo looks down at his cup with a look of slight disappointment at the neat curl of his first name.
When Reo had come in for the first time ever, Seishiro had been too stunned to really catch his name.
He'd blamed it on it being too busy and loud for him to remember it, when in reality the shop couldn't have been more dead than the goldfish Seishiro's parents had gotten him at six to keep as a pet—likely to entertain him since they didn't want to.
Not knowing he'd ever see this gorgeous man ever again, let alone him becoming a weekly visitor, Seishiro wrote “rich trustfund kid” on the cup and called it a day.
Reo had found humor in it at least, telling Seishiro he wasn't entirely wrong, but that he preferred to be called the super elite Mikage Reo instead. Thus began a chain of nicknames similar but not quite what Reo had asked for, earning Seishiro a series of laughs that would haunt his memories for eternity.
“I thought Reo would be fine,” Seishiro says, not really having a good reason for why he skipped out on their little game today. “It just felt natural to call Reo ‘Reo’.”
Reo smiles again. This time, his cheeks are a little pink. “It's fine. Does that mean I should call you Seishiro then?”
Oh. Seishiro's heart skips over a beat or two at that. Actually, he may have just developed a life-threatening heart disease instantaneously.
Seishiro never thought his name was all that impressive, but falling from Reo's pretty lips it sounds like a gift from God, something men would fight wars for.
If only Seishiro himself wasn't so brainless. His mouth speaks before his mind can catch up, not an ounce of intelligent life summoned within him.
“Uh. Y-Yeah. That's. Fine.” Seishiro stumbles through saying, trying (and failing) to keep his cool.
Reo just chuckles at him, blissfully unaware of the chaos he's willingly unleashed.
“Then thank you, Seishiro.” Reo says, taking a long sip of his drink. Seishiro hates how his eyes immediately zero in on the bob of his throat as he swallows, utterly entranced. “Delicious as always. You're such a treasure.” Reo winks, turning to leave before Seishiro can even begin to process what just happened.
The bell jingles as he exits and the redhead finally returns from his extended break, laughing demeaningly at Seishiro as he slides down a wall, head in his hands.
“You're so screwed.”
The next time Reo comes in, he's not alone.
Seishiro tenses up instantly.
He's followed in by a broader male—tall, tanned, and toned—with bright orange hair that looks like he just walked off a Bleach manga cover. They laugh together as they stroll in, shoulder to shoulder, smiles wide and eyes crinkling with a comfortable sort of familiarity.
Seishiro doesn't even try to hide the fact he's staring as he waits on customer after customer at a brisk pace, watching them chat amiably as he steadily winds the line down.
“Um, sir? Are you… good?” a concerned girl asks as he rushes through her order, working more efficiently than he ever has in his life. Ego would be proud. Seishiro should slow down before he makes that bastard anything other than disappointed in him.
“Just fine. Have a great day.” Seishiro says, completely monotone as he sets down her pumpkin-spiced vanilla latte with more force than necessary. Some of the whipped cream sloshes out of the cup. She doesn't complain.
Seishiro blinks through his next few orders, reciting the line of “Blue Latte, how may I take your order, please?” on autopilot until Reo and his friend (Seishiro will not allow himself to ponder on the alternative) reach the counter, still smiling and giggling to themselves like a couple of schoolgirls. It makes Seishiro want to puke.
“Reo.” Seishiro greets, cheerful, or as cheerfully as his voice can be. He pointedly does not greet the carrot top buff dude.
“Hi, treasure.” Reo grins, showing his teeth. They're white and perfectly straight. Seishiro wonders if he had to have braces. If he ever cried from the pain of his bones moving. If he would have let Seishiro hold his hand. Or maybe even let Seishiro stick his fingers in his mouth, massaging a numbing gel onto his gums…—
The Ichigo-knock-off smiles. His teeth are, unfortunately, objectively pretty too. Seishiro wants to punch him instead. He'd probably lose that fight in a heartbeat, given the guy's obvious physique, but, well, the thought is still there.
“Kunigami Rensuke. Reo here has told me a lot about you, Nagi.” Kunigami says, eyes cutting over to Reo's.
“Oh? All good things, I hope?” Seishiro asks.
Reo laughs again, but the sound is off. It's awkward. It’s… forced?
“Actually, he said you're kind of a klutz. And that you have a nice a—” Kunigami starts, cutting himself off as Reo slaps him on the shoulder roughly.
Seishiro was kind of curious what Reo had to say about him, but if Reo doesn't want him to hear it, he's fine with Reo shutting Kunigami up, even if it does kind of remind him of how he and Chigiri can sometimes act.
“I'll have my usual, please, Seishiro.” Reo grits out through still-smiling clenched teeth. He's pinching Kunigami’s ear now, like if the redhead (orangehead?) makes one wrong move he'll pull the skin right off.
Despite himself, Seishiro asks what Kunigami wants as well. He, of course, being a big, muscles-for-brains guy orders some Seishiro-certified hassle protein drink to make, and Seishiro silently curses his bloodline.
Chigiri, for once being Seishiro's savior rather than the second bane of his existence, (first going to Barou) decides to actually do his job for once and helps Seishiro out on the front, taking over and making Kunigami’s strawberry pink drink for him.
The redhead winks when he hands Kunigami his cup, his number neatly written beneath his name.
“Call me some time, ‘kay, Hero-kun?” Chigiri says, tossing his hair over his shoulder.
Kunigami stumbles through his reply, turning the shade of Chigiri's eyes, while Reo just watches the scene unfold, seemingly amused.
The pair walk off to the side, out of earshot.
“Well, I wasn't expecting that.” Reo says, sipping his own drink politely.
“Yeah,” Seishiro echoes that thought, hand brushing against his neck in a nervous tick. “Honestly, at first glance, I thought he was yours.”
Reo takes a moment to process before he blanches, mimicking a gagging motion. “Kunigami and me? Seriously, Sei? He's like a brother to me.”
Seishiro shrugs unapologetically. “I didn't know.”
“You could've asked.” Reo says, moving a piece forward. Seishiro feels like he's in checkmate, and didn't even know he was playing chess. It'd be bad for his digestive system, but maybe he needs to start eating the pieces.
“Would've been awkward.” Is Seishiro's excuse, the best and most truthful thing he can come up with on such short notice.
“I'd have forgiven you,” Reo says, and Seishiro thinks this will be the end of this weekly exchange until Reo stretches across the counter, patting Seishiro on the head and scratching at his scalp. “You're a good boy.”
Seishiro's brain short-circuits.
“He likes you, you idiot! Ask him out already!” Chigiri whines, throwing his hands up in the air.
Seishiro wipes down the counter from his latest Reo-related incident, also known as spilling white liquid creamer everywhere. Reo had apologized profusely for the mess, as if he'd somehow been the cause of Seishiro, in Chigiri’s words, “creaming everywhere”. He'd then left in a hurry, face painted red and barely managing to take two sips of his drink once Chigiri had opened his big mouth and said that for everyone to hear.
“He doesn't.” Seishiro says, hoping that's the end of it. He doesn't dare pray, as he's learned by now no gods are listening to him.
It's not the end, he should know better than that. It's the beginning of another tangent, one Seishiro definitely doesn't want to listen to—his Reo bias notwithstanding.
Chigiri groans, this close to being done with life. Or punching Seishiro. Maybe a good combination of both.
“Are you blind? Do I need to take you to get your eyes checked?” Chigiri asks, deadly serious. He's heard about Seishiro's parental situation—knows they never really took him to doctors like that when he was growing up.
“No.” Seishiro huffs, throwing a wet paper towel at Chigiri. He dodges with a disgusted scowl. “I just don't think Reo feels that way about me.”
“So you're blind and deaf. Huh. Pick a struggle, man.” Chigiri says, shaking his head from side-to-side.
Seishiro considers jokingly threatening Chigiri’s ACL as payback for being called out, but finds it too much of a hassle to actually do so. Instead, he opens an entirely worse can of worms, deciding to start his defense off in the most terrible possible way ever in the history of humanity.
“Look, just because Reo calls me Seishiro, treasure, and occasionally a good boy—”
“—He called you what—” Chigiri interjects, baffled.
“—does not mean he… oh my god, Reo likes me, doesn't he?”
Seishiro has lost this case. No objections needed. It's a good thing he's not going to university to be a lawyer.
“Finally. The scarecrow has found his brain.” Chigiri cheers, soon to turn into a concerned chortle as Seishiro slips on some leftover cream, falling straight on his ass on the hard tiled floor.
He stretches out on the floor with a sigh.
Now he has to figure out what to do with his heart.
All he has to do is ask Reo out.
Ask Reo out.
Ask Reo out.
Ask Reo out.
Sounds easy in theory, except for one problem: Seishiro's never asked anyone out. He hasn't the faintest idea how to do so.
“I quite literally asked a guy out in front of you, Nagi.” Chigiri reminds him as he leans over the counter, pondering his life choices—also known as daydreaming about Reo.
It's 5 o'clock yearning time.
30 minutes until Reo arrives, assuming he's not breaking their six month streak of visiting on Friday's. Seishiro can't really count on anything these days. The world has been a mess since he realized his feelings, but he can't go back now. He won't.
He wants this. He wants… Reo.
Even if it's difficult.
Even if it's hard.
Even if it takes effort and is a bit of a hassle and makes Seishiro's anxiety go crazy, it's all going to be worth it, because it's Reo.
Sweet, beautiful, Reo. Perfectly imperfect Reo. Tall, lithe, muscular, pretty Reo. The man of Seishiro's dreams. His reason for being and a reminder to keep on breathing because good things happen to those who wait and oh boy if Reo isn't the best thing in Seishiro's life.
He's terrified.
He doesn't know what to say. How to say it. How it'll come across. What if he says too much and comes on too strong? Or what if he doesn't say enough, and Reo interprets it as Seishiro not caring when in reality Seishiro cares far too much and what if—
The overhead bell jingles.
Reo walks in like he owns the place, a good 24 minutes before he was supposed to.
Seishiro's lungs forget how to breathe.
There's something to be said about looking at a person again once you realize you like them—time seems to stop as Reo's face comes into vision. Seishiro notices the curve of Reo's lips as he smiles. He notices the dimples on his cheeks. How one side of his mouth raises higher than the other—crooked, asymmetrical, like his bangs. He's not a god among men. He's human in the flesh and blood, but that's somehow even better. Seishiro sees every single flaw and wants to love him regardless, to love him in spite of it, to love him through everything.
I think I want to die with you.
“Seishiro? You okay there?” Reo asks, voice soft as silk. It curls around Seishiro's skin, wrapping him in a warm, comforting embrace.
“Don't die before I do, Reo.” Seishiro blurts out.
I don't want to live in a world without you, not for a minute, not even for a second.
“Um, what?” Reo asks, frozen in place.
Seems the best way to do this is just ripping the bandaid off.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Reo. You mean the world to me. You are the world to me. I… like you.”
Reo doesn't waste another moment.
He jumps and Seishiro catches, twirling Reo around in his arms. It's effortless, lifting him up, spinning him around. Holding him, it feels good. It feels right. It feels… perfect.
“I've been waiting forever for you to say that.” Reo admits, shaking his head fondly.
“Sorry to have made you wait so long,” Seishiro apologizes, pressing his forehead against Reo's.
“I know how you can make it up to me.” Seishiro can feel Reo's grin against his lips, and goes entirely off of instinct on what to do next.
Right now probably isn't the best time or place to be kissing Reo—what with Seishiro still on the clock and with Chigiri some odd feet away, running the register and pretending not to look—but when have he and Reo ever gone by what's the norm?
He puts a hand on Reo's cheek. It's warm to the touch.
“Can I?” he asks, patiently waiting for permission.
Reo nods urgently. “Seishiro, I swear to god if you don't kiss me right now I'm breaking up with you—”
Ah. Seishiro can't have that, can he?
His first and last relationship can't end before it even starts. So he slots his lips against Reo's, soft and delicate, swallowing down the little sounds he makes with delight, tasting vanilla and coffee on his tongue.
Seishiro quickly discovers kissing Reo is his favorite thing to do, with his second favorite being holding Reo. They kiss until they're both breathless, panting into one another's mouths as the world narrows down to just the two of them, embracing each other.
“So,” Seishiro huffs, out of breath. “About that date?”
Reo tilts his head to the side in mock consideration. “I'll have to think about it.”
This time, it's Seishiro's turn to laugh.
“I think I have a good idea for where we can go.”
“Oh? And where is that?”
“How does coffee sound?”