My first MHA fic, and it’s going to be a multi-chapter KiriBaku one! A special thank you to my lovely wives @wingsonghalo and @ittybittytoostormy, and my dear friend @musics-lifes-record. This insanity wouldn't have been possible without your constant encouragement. A special thank you to Wing for helping me with edits <3 I love you lots, babe
Title: Mocha Choco Latte
Pairing: Kirishima/Bakugou (with background Izuku/Ochacco)
Rating: T, mostly for language
Wordcount for chatper 1: 3,039
Summary: Katsuki hadn't anticipated spending his senior year of University working at a cafe, but who was he to complain when it paid the bills? Besides, what could be the worst thing that could happen?
Also available on: AO3
Chapter 1: Caramel Mocha Frappuccino
If there was one thing that Bakugou Katsuki despised, it was people. Specifically, idiotic people. Like the ones who came in with a stupidly complex order that he had to repeat back twice to make sure he got each and every instruction right. Or the ones who would watch him make their drink, and the moment he would finish it, they would mention that they needed a milk alternative because god forbid they say something when ordering, or when they saw him grab the container of milk. And don’t even get him started on having to take their food orders; that was a new level of idiocy he hadn’t believed could be possible. Whoever said the customer is always right should be kicked in the face. He swore that this cafe was a beacon for idiots, and here he was, front and center, having to cater to their every whim.
“Kacchan, you’re scaring the customers again,” Midoriya Izuku commented as he approached the register to clock in.
“Can it, nerd. It’s not my fault that some people can’t get their order right the first time they order it,” he grouched, throwing a glare at the woman at the end of the counter who was typing away at her phone, her foot tapping impatiently as she waited for him to give her her drink.
“Still, you can try to be nicer to the customers. You are the cashier, after all.”
“And whose fault is that? I was perfectly happy being the cook until you fumbled because you were geeking out and spilled hot coffee all over the CEO of Nighteye Records.”
“Oh come on. I’ve apologized for that enough. You know I didn’t mean to! I just can’t help getting excited when I meet celebrities,” he complained as he shrugged on his apron.
“You’re lucky he didn’t try to get you fired, dumbass,” he scoffed, eyes rolling. He grabbed the cup from the steamer, the extra hot almond milk frothing, and quickly poured it into the to-go cup, mixing it in with the mocha syrup and the three decaf espresso shots, before popping a lid on the cup because heaven forbid he make the mistake of adding the whipped cream.
“Here,” he said, placing the drink on the edge of the counter aggressively. The woman huffed, throwing her phone in her purse before she scooped the cup up.
“About time. And would it kill you to be a little more appreciative of your customers? After all, you were the one who messed up my order in the first place. I can just take my business elsewhere, you know?” The challenging smirk she wore as she took a sip of her drink made Katsuki’s blood boil.
“Alright, listen here you b-”
“We are so sorry about the mistake! Please, have this cookie on the house!” Izuku interjected quickly, forcing himself between the seething Katsuki and the lady, thrusting a pastry bag in her direction.
“Well, at least ONE of you has manners. Thank you.” She snatched the bag out of his hand and stomped out of the store. Katsuki was fuming; how DARE she treat him like he was the idiot when she was the one who couldn’t get off her phone for more than five seconds to order her damn drink with the proper milk? He hoped she enjoyed the word “KAREN” scrawled across her cup. He turned toward Izuku, eyes narrowing.
“Quit it, Deku. I had that under control.” Izuku gulped, taking a step back from Katsuki, throwing his hands up in front of him in defense.
“You were about to call her a bitch, Kacchan. I had to do something. Sato’s told you if he gets any more complaints about you being rude to the customers, he’ll have to fire you.” Katsuki sighed, shoulders sagging as he realized just how right his friend was. He couldn’t afford to get himself fired, not with rent coming up soon. He was sure that Deku would help him out if that did happen, but damnit, his pride wouldn’t allow freaking Deku of all people to be the one to help him out of a bind like that, even if he was his roommate.
“Whatever. Anyway, Batteries for Brains dipped early, so I’m glad you showed up. Wasn’t looking forward to trying to run both the line and the register on my own. He should be lucky that all the orders so far have been for drinks and pastries, otherwise I’d have to kill him.”
“Kaminari’s a good guy. He probably had a very valid reason for leaving early,” Izuku said, heading toward the kitchen.
“Hopefully to tutoring. That guy’s math is atrocious,” he griped, counting the drawer down for shift change. “Oh yeah, pastry girl asked about you,” he called over his shoulder, smirking as he heard Deku run into the door frame, a muffled swear falling from him.
“U-Uraraka? What did she have to say?” he asked nervously, rubbing the red spot on his forehead.
“Wanted to know what you were up to this weekend. Told her to ask you herself.”
“Kacchan! That’s so rude!” Izuku whined, grabbing the pickup order ticket that printed off, scanning over it before grabbing one of the to-go cups to scrawl the instructions on it.
“What? I gave her your number, you moron. I’m not that heartless.” He finished counting down the drawer, noting that that idiot Kaminari short changed him, and took the cup from Izuku, whose face was as red as one of Sato’s cherry danishes.
“W-why would you do that?” he stammered, grabbing the next ticket and moving to the pastry case.
“Because clearly you’re not going to be the one to make the first move. You’ve been pining over her like an idiot since we first started here. I still can’t believe she caught you when you tripped on that drink that you spilled. You could barely stutter out the words ‘thank you’; do you really think I expect you to be able to ask her out?”
“I guess you’re right,” he sighed. “Thanks for having my back, Kacchan.”
“It’s whatever. You owe me one,” Katsuki grunted out as he sprayed the whipped cream on top of the drink before fitting the lid on it snugly. He placed the finished drink next to the pastry bag on the pick up rack and went for the next order. “Here, this one needs actual food. Get out of my space, loser.” Izuku took the ticket with a smile and went to the small kitchen, humming as he got to work.
Time passed idly, customers trickling in—some passing through for pick up, others dining in—and Bakugou was counting down the minutes until he was off. The dinner rush had come and gone, leaving the two to focus on the pre-closing procedures in between orders. Which left Katsuki with time to let his mind wander.
Working in a cafe wasn’t how he anticipated his senior year of university going, but it paid the bills. The place had a nice homey quality to it—the mismatched chairs and tables scattered about the dining area paired with various paintings and prints from local artists really made the ambiance. There was a small section by the register that displayed various knick knacks made in the community that were for sale, though Katsuki hated dealing with those purchases since there was a lot of paperwork involved to make sure that the right artist got their money. The real money maker of the cafe laid in the pastry case, though. Sato’s confections were famous throughout Akihabara; many locals supported the young business man who had a heart of gold and sweets to match. And Sato wasn’t a bad guy to work for. Quite the opposite, in fact; he paid his employees well and was very flexible with their schedules since most of them attended University of Akihabara, which is how Katsuki got roped into the evening shift. Not that he was complaining about that—it was generally a quiet time and he didn’t have to deal with as many stupid customers. Overall, it wasn’t a bad gig.
Katsuki had just finished breaking down the decaf espresso machine (good riddance—it was an abomination to mankind) when the bell at the front door jingled, announcing the arrival of a new customer. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for this onslaught of stupidity. The last patron had argued with him until they were both red in the face about the cafe having diet whipped cream, even though he assured him that the cafe never had any to begin with. Eventually, he was able to convince him that the drink was perfectly delicious without a topping, and sent him on his merry way, all the while wishing he could punt kick that pint-sized asshole across the room.
He exhaled and made his way to the register, finally looking up and blinking in surprise as he took in the appearance of the customer waiting on him. This guy looked ridiculous—his obnoxiously bright red hair was spiked up and Katsuki was sure that this guy was trying to emulate either a hedgehog or a porcupine. His choice of clothing, or lack thereof, was as disastrous as his hair. His chest was fully exposed and the only sort of covering his upper half had was some sort of weird cropped red and black jacket. Black pants tucked themselves into hideous muddy-red boots, but what really took the cake was not the weird open-mouth face mask that he wore; instead, it was the piss-poor attempt at red chaps that were held together by a gaudy-looking R-shaped belt buckle. He looked like he walked right off the page of some sort of shitty manga that he was sure Deku would read. It wasn’t like they didn’t get cosplayers in the cafe, because they did all the time, but this was surely the most bizarre one he had seen. The guy smiled at him, and Katsuki had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Stupid, over-friendly cosplayers.
“Welcome to Sugar Rush. What do you want?” he asked gruffly, ignoring the softly chastising “Kacchan” coming from the kitchen. He couldn’t help it—he had had his fill of idiots for the day and his feet were fucking sore.
“Uhh,” the redhead eloquently replied, craning his neck to look at the menu. Clearly this guy was more brawn than brains, in Katsuki’s most humble opinion. Miraculously, he kept himself from tapping his fingers against the countertop in annoyance while the other scanned over the hand-written list of drinks, his eyes finally lighting up in delight as he settled on one.
“I would like one of the caramel mocha frappuccinos please!” he said with a smile and Katsuki noted that the guy even had put in false teeth; the ones grinning back at him were sharp and dangerous looking.
“Size?”
“Um, large?” he replied, though to Katsuki, it seemed like he was uncertain.
“Is this for here or to go?” Katsuki was praying that the guy said to go because if he had to wipe down the lobby one more time before they closed, he was sure he was going to lose his mind.
“To go, unfortunately,” the cosplayer laughed, handing his card over as Katsuki gave him the total. “Oh yeah, don’t you need to ask my name?” he asked, putting the card away along with his receipt.
“Nah, I’ve got it. Just go to the end of the counter,” he replied, scribbling on the cup then turning to get the ingredients, effectively cutting off any conversation. He swore he heard the cosplayer mutter something that sounded suspiciously like “of course you do ” under his breath, but Katsuki refused to ask. As he stood up, milk in hand, he was met with disapproving green eyes peering at him from over the kitchen window.
“Not a word, Deku. And I swear to god, if you come out here, I’ll kill you,” he threatened while measuring out the milk. Izuku sighed, shaking his head and disappeared from Katsuki’s line of sight, which he much preferred right now. He poured the milk in the blender, added the pumps of mocha and caramel syrup, and tossed the ice in before popping the top on the machine and turning it on. Katsuki caught himself checking out the cosplayer out of the corner of his eye while he waited for the drink to be blended perfectly. The guy was sort of cute, he mused. Kind of in that endearing puppy dog sort of way as he hummed along to the shitty pop music that was playing on the speakers while he scrolled his phone. It was ridiculous, however, that he would even be thinking about how attractive the guy was—he was sure that he would never see him again. That, and he was nothing more than a customer; Katsuki had no business daydreaming about how nice it would be to feel those arms wrap around him, crushing him to that stupidly beautiful chest that was on display for all to see. Nope, not at all. It was hopeless. Just a fleeting crush that would never come to fruition.
A crash from the kitchen followed by an exclamation of “oh holy shit ” snapped him out of his delusional thoughts, and he huffed out an angry sigh. Leave it to Deku to break something once again. He emptied the contents of the blender into the to-go cup, adding a swirl of whipped cream to the top before securing the lid to the cup with a soft pop. He felt a smirk start pulling at his lips as he turned around.
“Large caramel mocha frappuccino for a ‘Shitty Hair,’” he called out, causing the cosplayer to look up from his screen, blinking in bewilderment as he looked between Katsuki and the drink that was on the counter. The reaction was priceless, if Katsuki could admit that to himself, and it was totally worth the look on the cosplayer’s face and the shrill “Kacchan ” yelled at him. What Katsuki wasn’t expecting, however, was the cosplayer to start laughing, a deep rumbling sound that sent shivers running through him. God, why was this guy’s laugh even attractive? It wasn’t fair.
“Oh shit, that was great!” the cosplayer replied once he was finally able to catch his breath, wiping tears out of his eyes while reaching for the cup. “I haven’t laughed that hard in ages. Have a great day, man!” he exclaimed, placing some coins on the counter as a tip before grabbing a straw and leaving the cafe. Katsuki was baffled at the guy’s reaction—most people didn’t thank him for insulting them. He shook his head, pocketing the yen, and turned to see a heaving Izuku with his hands on his knees like he had just ran a marathon frantically looking between him and the now closing door.
“Kacchan! You can’t call people names like that! Do you even know who that was?” he cried.
“Uh, just some shitty cosplayer, duh?” Katsuki rolled his eyes at Izuku’s theatrics, grabbing the blender and heading to the sink to rinse it out.
“A cosplayer?? No! That was Kirishima Eijirou, Kacchan!” Izuku replied and Katsuki dropped the blender in the sink, whipping around to face him.
“Kirishima Eijirou, as in the fucking actor?” Katsuki could feel a ball of dread curling up in his stomach. He was hoping that Deku was wrong, but that nerd knew celebrities like the back of his hand. The exasperated look he got in return was more than enough to confirm his worst fears.
“Yes that Kirishima Eijirou, Kacchan. Oh my god, I can’t believe you called him Shitty Hair. What were you thinking?” he asked, pulling at his hair.
“In my defense, I thought he was just some shitty cosplayer! What the hell was that get up, anyway? God, it was awful.”
“Oh my god, you’re kidding me, right? He’s currently filming for the live-screen adaptation of the Red Riot comics. This has been a highly anticipated movie from director Toyomitsu Taishiro that’s been in the works for the past four years. All Might productions picked it up and they finally just got the casting settled last year and were able to move forward with the filming process. And, he’s the main character. Oh my god, my best friend just called the actor for one of my favorite comic book heroes Shitty Hair. Oh my god, what if he gets the cafe shut down? What will we do about rent money? I’m sure mom could help me out, but still…” he trailed and Katsuki had to take a deep breath.
“Calm down, you dork. I highly doubt he’s going to get the cafe shut down. Hell, he seemed to have a good laugh over what I said. Besides, if he was upset with anyone, it would be me, not you. So don’t overwork your brain over there with things that won’t happen.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Izuku exhaled, visibly calming. “I still can’t believe you did that, though.”
“Are you ever going to shut up about it?” Katsuki groaned, going back to cleaning the blender out.
“Only when you decide to stop holding you being a barista over my head because of the Nighteye incident,” he laughed, walking out to the lobby to lock the door and turn the ‘open’ sign over to ‘closed.’
“Fair enough. Now, let’s get this shit done quick. My bed is calling my name.” They continued with their closing procedures, and as Katsuki was counting down the drawer for the night, his thoughts were haunting him. He just happened to have the shittiest luck, he determined. Not only was he crushing on a customer, but the customer was an actor. An actor who he happened to insult. Holy fuck. Great job, Katsuki. Way to fucking go. As they finished closing and were leaving the shop, he decided that it didn’t matter. This would just live to be an embarrassing tale that he would make sure he and Deku took to their graves. It’s not like he would ever see the guy again, after all.
Thanks for making it to the end of chapter one of my very first BNHA fic! Hope it was to your enjoyment. Please feel free to leave a review and let me know how I did! Chapter 2 should be coming soon <3
