#onedayk - Friday, March 11, 2016
Yata let out a heartfelt, sighing groan, slumping forward in his seat in the break room far enough that his head hit the table in front of him with a thump. "It's over..."
He could more or less manage to serve girls now after almost a year of working at a café, but he couldn't help that flustered, embarrassed feeling that blanked out his thoughts whenever they looked at him. Even knowing it was stupid, he couldn't shake the notion that their eyes stared right through his skin and read his thoughts and weaknesses directly off of his brain.
It didn't help that his table had four of them. College-aged. Very chatty.
It doubly didn't help that someone had slipped them a note stating that their server had a crush on one of them.
"I'm gonna fucking kill that bastard," Yata muttered under his breath, hands clenching into fists where they'd previously been hanging limp beside his body. Since the note hadn't said which girl, all four of them had been overly nice to him, trying to draw him into conversations and keep his attention, giggling at his stuttered excuses and just all around being embarrassing and pushy and scary. He felt lucky he'd escaped with his damn life.
And he knew who had done it. Oh, he definitely fucking knew.
Fushimi had only been working at the café for a month, but his personality sucked and they had clashed almost instantly. Yata was kinda self-aware enough to at least know maybe he had trouble reading the mood most of the time, but he was still pretty sure 'Hey, nice to meet ya! I'm Yata!' didn't deserve a baleful glare and a click of the tongue. And - okay - maybe he shouldn't have followed up by scowling and asking what the hell the guy's problem was, but who could blame him?
Well, apparently Kusanagi could, but that was probably more because they'd been snarking at each other in front of customers.
It wasn't totally bad. Fushimi was smart - he was going to college for some genius programmer thing that Yata couldn't have understood if he'd tried - and after the first time they'd accidentally gotten into a conversation without glaring at each other, Yata had found out they had similar taste in video games, similar complaints about customers, and somehow a lot to talk about. When they did have those 'truce' chats, he actually enjoyed himself. Also, Fushimi was super cool and quick-thinking, and so good-looking that sometimes just getting a glimpse of him in the right light could make Yata's throat close up.
Until Fushimi made a smartass comment about his intelligence - or the way he couldn't handle girls - or his height - and then they were at each other's throats until someone else stepped in to separate them.
This current situation - which was actually outside of the usual pattern for them - was the result of Yata having thrown back an insult yesterday - he couldn't even remember what, now - that had apparently touched a sore spot, because Fushimi's expression had turned dark. Yata didn't manage to hit many critical strikes in their arguments, so he'd followed up his advantage, which had gotten him black silence and a murderous look.
And now this.
Like hell I'm gonna let this go. There was his pride to consider. Yata lifted his head from the table, the small glimmer of an idea starting to spark in his brain. Anyway, if Fushimi could pull something like this, so could he. We'll see who gets the last laugh!
By the time his break had ended, the plan had been formed and Yata was generally feeling much more optimistic. He already had the small, hastily-scrawled note folded and hidden his in fist, ready for action.
"Feeling better, Yata?" Totsuka paused in mid-stride with a tray in his hands to smile warmly at him.
"Yup, I'm good!" Yata grinned back at him, offering a thumbs-up as his older friend nodded and carried on. He did a quick sweep of the café to look for his opponent.
Fushimi was mixing a drink behind the counter, his back to the room. Could get this done quick then... A look at his co-worker's tables showed a middle-aged guy reading the paper, a couple on an obvious date, and a classy-looking woman signing her credit card slip.
Fucking perfect. His timing was great. Yata made his way towards the woman's table, keeping an eye on Fushimi to make sure he didn't look over and his pace slow enough that she had time to get up and head for the door before he casually scooped up the bill holder, glancing furtively up to make sure he wasn't being watched before sliding the note inside.
Got it! Yata resisted the urge to grin with the triumph surging through him. Easy as hell. He sauntered over to the counter, setting the bill holder down as he'd done before a million times for any of his fellow servers. "Picked up something for ya."
Fushimi shot him a narrow look, and then clicked his tongue. "No one asked you to."
"Yeah, whatever." He was more or less used to that attitude by now, but it still set off a little pit of annoyance in his stomach. Yata frowned. "Some of us are actually nice, jerk."
"Some of you are also idiots," Fushimi responded drily, turning his attention back to the drinks he was topping off with whipped cream. "Don't expect me to do you any favors."
"Don't fucking worry." Yata snorted, brushing past him. Yeah, he was definitely used to Fushimi by now - the casual irritated attitude was almost endearing once you realized how emotionally stilted the guy was. It was pretty much routine now, the way they bantered back and forth; with a few exceptions, they rarely got seriously angry with each other, and the exchanges were becoming kind of fun in a way.
It didn't change the fact that Fushimi totally deserved this, though. Yata tried not to be too obvious about shooting glances his way, as he finished off the drinks and took them on a tray to the table with the couple. The bill holder was still sitting untouched behind the counter where Yata had left it.
Mostly, he was just hoping to get some kind of reaction. Yata held back a grin, checking to see who he was relieving while he waited for Fushimi to return and see the note he'd included. It was pretty simple: a quick 'Meet up tonight? Call me' and a phone number - his own, obviously, because if Fushimi actually called, he was planning to answer and give him hell for falling for it. He didn't expect Fushimi to call. He expected Fushimi to stare at it with disgust, click his tongue, and throw the note into the garbage. Right where Yata could innocently fish it out and bring everyone's attention to it, which would result in a lot of teasing, considering both Totsuka and Shiro were on-shift.
It was a flawless plan.
Because of that, it was really hard not to openly watch when Fushimi came back, picked up the bill holder, and opened it up to get the credit card receipt. He plucked the note from it and brought it up to read, frowning slightly. As Yata snuck glances from the corner of his eyes, Fushimi unexpectedly sighed, folded the note, and reached under his apron to tuck it into his pocket.
Wait... he's actually gonna keep it? That was surprising. And... kinda... Yata ducked his head, careful not to watch as Fushimi moved to stow the receipt in the cash register, his expression just as grumpy as always - like nothing much had just happened.
Somehow, Yata felt a little disappointed. Unsettled, even. He liked her, huh?
There was no real reason that should have upset him, but...
A tap on his shoulder stirred him out of that confusing swarm of emotion. When he looked up, startled, Fushimi was eyeing him sharply. "Are you going to laze around back here all afternoon? Not that it matters to me, but I'm sure Totsuka's waiting for a break."
"Ah... right!" A quick glance back at the break schedule proved that right. Yata swallowed his conflicted feelings, avoiding Fushimi's cool-eyed gaze as he started to move back out to the front. "Yeah, I'm going."
It was stupid to even think about it. Besides, this way the prank would turn out better, right? There was no reason he should be disappointed that Fushimi kept the note and planned to call that woman. It didn't matter to him one way or another what kind of person Fushimi wanted to date. Right?
"You know," Fushimi muttered, so quietly that Yata nearly missed it - but since he'd caught it, the words were enough to halt him in his tracks. When he glanced back, Fushimi was deliberately looking away from him, an expression that Yata hadn't seen before on his face. Like a mix between sullen and reluctant, but... kind of cuter.
There was no time to examine that thought, because Fushimi was still talking. "It's ridiculous to say 'call me' when we're working the same shift." He clicked his tongue, and met Yata's gaze again, the sullen look dropping off as he raised an eyebrow. "I'm off an hour before you, so I'll just wait in the break room. Don't waste too much time."
Yata blinked at him, momentarily unable to process. Comprehension was slowly dawning in his brain, though; as he stared, the reality of what Fushimi had just said abruptly hit him, and he felt his mouth drop open, heat rising fast up his neck and over his face. "Ha... y-you... b-but... I..."
"Was that too much for your limited brain? Figures." The corners of Fushimi's mouth actually edged up a little. The smile wasn't condescending or mocking, but seemed sincere - like the rare times he'd done it during their civil conversations. In the current moment, it made Yata's cheeks feel like they'd caught fire; his heart was racing in his chest. Fushimi shrugged slightly, a bit awkwardly, and added, "Well. I don't mind."
Yata could only stare at him, unable to think of a single thing to say. His brain had gone completely blank, but he felt strangely captivated by the sight of Fushimi's smile and the implications of exactly what he was saying.
He doesn't mind, so... that means...
Fushimi abruptly straightened, turning away from Yata deliberately. "Anyway, I still have work to do." As he moved away, he added without looking back, "Once you pick your wits up from the floor, you should get back to it too, Misaki. It shouldn't take you long, since you don't have that many to begin with."
That was enough to kick him out of it. "Sh-shut up, jerk!" Yata snapped at Fushimi's thin, retreating back. He didn't get a response, which wasn't a surprise, but the automatic habit at least brought him back to reality.
... A reality in which he apparently had a date.
The tiny fluttering feeling in his stomach seemed to indicate that wasn't... exactly a bad thing. Yata stared after Fushimi with something like a mix of shock and wonder, his face still burning and a storm of emotion raging in his head. I guess... I don't mind either. As he watched, Fushimi changed direction so that his profile was visible, and it was just barely possible to notice the faint hint of red on his cheeks as well. It set Yata's already fast-beating heart into a frenzy.
It wasn't an outcome he'd thought of, but hell, he'd take it!