The requisite college au - with a side of cafe au too.
We've never met, but can we have a coffee or something?
'Your handwriting is shit.'
Allen stopped, staring down at his desk in confusion. He looked around, but no one was paying him any particular attention, and he was one of the first students in class anyways. Frowning, he sat down and rearranged his work around the neat scrawl beneath his own hastily written note.
It had been an equation from the board when he'd run out of paper, and the professor had been speaking too quickly for him to grab another sheet fast enough. The pencil was faded and smudged, and he traced over it. It was ugly handwriting, but to be fair he had been frantically copying it down.
Still.
Pulling out a pencil, he wrote his own note back.
'And you're an asshole.'
.
.
.
Friday found another note for him, but Allen had been running late for class. By the time it was over, he'd shuffled so many papers and books over it the writing had become even more smudged, and Allen reasoned the person had a class some time after him.
'An asshole with better writing. The equation was wrong anyways.'
Wait. Shit. It was?
He pulled the old notes out, scanning where he had finally copied it down and compared it to the one written neatly under the stranger's note. There were differences, and he couldn't tell for the life of him which one was actually right.
He glanced up, but the professor had already left and the TA's were swarmed with students in preparation for the upcoming exams. He didn't have enough time between classes to wait in line to ask something as simple as whether or not he'd written the right equation down.
He copied the stranger's down, resolving to ask someone soon, and maybe hope the textbook he'd spent an arm on would actually be useful enough to have it.
His internal clock told him time was running out - and his watch never bothered to work anyways - so he impulsively stuffed a gift into the desk, wrote a quick note back, and booked it.
'Thanks. You're still a prick, but thanks! I left something for you!'
.
.
.
The day was far from over. The closer to exams, the longer the cafe's hours, and Allen was really the only one willing to work the extra hours. Cross might have been willingly to suspiciously cover his dorm bill, and scholarships paid his tuition, but no way in hell was his godfather willing to pay for his food intake.
A sleepy two in the morning found him brewing a dark roast for some angry tired student impatiently tapping his foot, and Allen wondered if starving would, perhaps, be worth it for a few more hours of sleep a day.
"Are you sleeping?" The student demanded, and Allen suppressed a groan.
"Nope," he replied as cheerfully as possible. "I'm just about done," he said, covering the hot drink with a top and handing it over to a 'Kanda'.
"Thanks," he said, with the manner of someone forced to be polite from years of scolding.
"My pleasure," Allen grumbled beneath his breath, wiping down the counter and cleaning the machine again, hoping another student wouldn't come in. The cafe was due to close in less than an hour, and if Allen had to use and clean the same machine one more time for the same 'Kanda', he'd take it and break it over his head.
"I love having money, I love studying for a degree that will get me money, I love to work, this is all I want to do for the rest of my life," Allen muttered, resting his weight on the counter to ease it off his feet. "I love eating, no matter how small my paycheck is-"
"Can you shut up?" The student demanded, and Allen jumped, whirling around to find him at the counter again with the most impressive scowl Allen had seen to date. "I can hear you all the way the fuck over there," he snapped, pointing to the far off corner he'd set up camp in.
Damn! He'd been sure he was whispering. Dredging up a smile that had lost any weight or feeling four hours ago, Allen said, "Oh! I didn't realize, I'm sorry. Being the only one in here at two in the morning, I figured no one would hear me."
Really, why was he here? It was the farthest cafe on campus from any dorm or college town, and there was still three weeks to the start of finals. Who the hell would be studying at this hour here? It was enough to piss Allen off for having to work these hours to cater to only one student.
Though, the guy had tipped almost twenty-five dollars worth, so Allen wasn't that mad. It was at least enough to cover half of one of his meals.
"You close at three," he said, nose in the air. "So I'll leave at three."
Is strangling still a felony if there's reasonable cause? Allen wondered, hands twitching at his sides. Because he was sorely tempted to find out.
"Would you like to order anything else?" Allen forced out through gritted teeth, wishing he could simply risk being fired just to spit fire at the guy.
"No," he said promptly, then turned and walked away, and Allen resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall in frustration.
I love having money, I love studying for a degree that will get me money, I love to work, this is all I want to do for the rest of my life, I love eating, no matter how small my paycheck is, and I love working even when assholes like him are hellbent on aggravating me!
Kanda did leave at exactly three, and Allen stayed behind the extra two minutes it took to wipe the only table that had been used. The entire walk home he spent kicking fruitlessly at snow drifts.
.
.
.
It wasn't until the following Monday that Allen saw a reply.
'I don't like sweet things.'
The candy Allen had stuffed in the desk wasn't there anymore, but Allen reasoned it had probably either been found by another stranger, or still taken as a gift.
Allen sat his desk, tracing the written letters. It was odd. Before, it had just been this smart-ass stranger, but now he was somebody. Somebody who didn't like sweet things, who was helpful, who was blunt. Who still wrote these silly little notes to someone they didn't even know.
Oh no, Allen, he thought. You can't go having a crush on some absolute total stranger like this. You can't. Be smart for once in your life!
Still, throughout the rest of class the note was on his mind, enough so that he started and stopped a half-dozen replies. What did it matter? There was no possible way for anything of any kind to be started, and he'd already called the prick an asshole once or twice, was being nice suddenly going to change anything?
The desk was wiped clean of the rest of their notes, and he wondered if the stranger - who he didn't even know the name of, let alone anything else - diligently erased their notes, or if some poor exasperated student did. Maybe a janitor. Maybe a TA.
'What do you like?'
.
.
.
Tuesday he pulled the late night shift again, and again the same asshole was there.
It was to the point that Allen had the same coffee brewed before he even walked up to the bar. Still, it was nice to be getting a three to five dollar tip every time the guy bought a coffee.
"Isn't this killing your sleep?" Allen asked, bored out of his mind from the long hours and empty cafe. There was nothing to do at this hour except wait for everyone to leave, and, as always, Kanda was staying until the closing hour.
"Isn't it none of your business?" Kanda said blandly, stuffing a five into the tip jar to Allen's delight. At this rate, Kanda would be paying for all his meals. There was a tendril of jealousy, though. Allen wished he had the spare money to buy several cups of coffee in a row and tip as Kanda was.
"You're keeping me up, I should at least return the favor," Allen shot back, only realizing a moment later how wrong that was.
"Oh?" Kanda said with a raised brow. "I'm keeping you up?"
"No," Allen snapped, grabbing a nearby dish cloth just to keep his hands busy. "Go take your coffee and study!"
Kanda didn't quite laugh, but he gave a half-smile that Allen bitterly wished he didn't find attractive.
It's one in the morning, Allen told himself. You've been working for hours, you've been awake since the crack of dawn because 'hello, insomnia!' and you're stressing about exams. It's entirely reasonable to find the resident jackass haunting your dreams to be attractive.
No, wait, that's not right-
"Will you stop talking to yourself?" Kanda demanded from across the cafe, and Allen could only pray that he hadn't said any of that loud enough for Kanda to understand. He should probably take less shifts next week, because clearly keeping his stomach fed was doing nothing for keeping him sane without sleep.
At least he had the notes on his desk to look forward to.
.
.
.
Wednesday came and went without any notes, to Allen's disappointment.
Was it too personal, to ask that? Was Allen getting too involved? They were just desk buddies! It wasn't weird that Allen asked 'hey, so tell me about yourself!'
...was it?
"Walker," Professor Nyne snapped, and Allen jerked from his reverie to find the whole class staring at him. "I know you find my lessons to be boring, but the least you can do is not talk to yourself during them."
Oh my God, Allen thought, face inflamed. Have mercy and just end me now, please.
"Yes m'am," Allen said meekly, ducking his head in shame. The class laughed lightly, and thankfully the professor moved on. Allen resolved to ignore the notes. They were clearly a one time thing, and hadn't he been telling himself he shouldn't get so involved? They were just notes! It was almost childish, really, and did Allen even want to be interested in a jerk who insulted his handwriting like that?
It was only when the class began to stand up and leave as one did Allen realize he spent the whole lesson thinking about the stranger and the notes they didn't leave behind.
.
.
.
Friday was the same deal. No notes, no replies, no hidden gifts - not that Allen checked or anything, mind you, it was just something he happened to notice - and he had to work the late shift. Again.
Didn't I say I wasn't going to? Allen thought sourly, brewing a cup of coffee. Clearly lack of sleep is making me insane if I'm starting to crush on some absolute stranger!
"What's wrong with you?"
Allen looked over to find his favorite asshole, and he sighed before handing off the latte to another student. He grabbed a cup for Kanda and began his strong brew.
"Nothing," Allen ground out, focusing on the measurements. Kanda was particularly picky about the way he took his coffee - not that he'd said as much, mind you, but he made certain faces depending on how strong Allen made it. And as many times as Allen had brewed coffee for Kanda, he knew exactly how strong to make it.
Kanda snorted, crossing his arms as he waited, and Allen noticed he'd already set up camp at his favorite table across the cafe. "Nothing my ass. You're making the ugliest face."
Allen flushed, whirling around to slam the coffee on the counter. Even through the cap some sloshed out, and Kanda jumped back. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not looking my prettiest for Miss Priss today! Is there anything else you'd like?"
It was probably the most aggressive he'd gotten while maintaining the thin facade of pleasantry he was obligated by his boss to keep, but surprisingly Kanda didn't take him up on the offered fight. He frowned at Allen, grabbing napkins from a nearby dispenser to wipe his cup down. "No."
Kanda slapped down the money plus some for the coffee, and Allen morosely pocketed the tip, already regretting his little outburst. In retrospect, Kanda had only been asking after him, and Allen had to go and bite off his head like a rabid animal with no sense of manners.
It was closer to the exams and more students were coming in. Thankfully, Allen had more co-workers with him this time around - it also meant he got a break time.
Taking the fifteen minute break, Allen brewed a cup of coffee and made his way to Kanda's table, promptly plopping down in the available seat across from Kanda.
"Go away," Kanda snapped without even looking up from his textbook.
"Nope," Allen said primly, pulling out his phone to check his messages.
Even in his peripheral Allen could see Kanda jerk up in shock. "What are you doing here?" He demanded, almost sounding offended that Allen was sitting by him.
"I'm on my break, and I thought I should make you coffee, since you're due one and I know how you like it. Or I could go to another table and take the coffee with me?"
Kanda stared at him for a long moment before scowling and holding his hand out. Allen handed him the cup with a smile.
"Sorry for snapping at you earlier," Allen admitted slowly, staring down at his phone blankly. "I was just... frustrated."
A long moment of silence passed between them, and Allen almost stood up to leave it got so awkward, but finally, from around the lid of his coffee, Kanda murmured, "About?"
I was writing notes with a stranger and they stopped replying and now I'm desperate to know why, Allen thought, but decided firmly not to say. No way anyone would consider him normal after hearing that, and it was hard enough accomplishing that with white hair and scarred arm and face!
"Lots of things," Allen said finally, vaguely. "They're just all adding up, and working these late shifts aren't helping." He scowled, then, because he was complaining and he didn't like to hear himself whine, let alone others. "It'll pass, though. What're you always studying so hard?"
Allen wasn't just trying to change the subject - he was curious about what kept Kanda in the cafe all these late hours.
Kanda stiffened abruptly, mouth falling into a straight line as he stared down at his open textbook, clearly upset. But, Allen must've have done something right, because instead of the customary 'none of your business' Allen normally got treated to, he was given a direct answer.
"Math."
Allen groaned theatrically, falling onto his folded arms and disturbing Kanda's coffee. "Ugh, I have the same class! It's the worst!"
"Watch the coffee!" Kanda hissed, grabbing it and moving it out of Allen's reach.
"I have Professor Nyne, and she's an absolute slave-driver!"
Kanda regarded him curiously, frowning. "I have her too. I'm only taking it as a requirement."
"Same here," Allen admitted. "Math is one of my best subjects, honestly," actually, Allen could probably calculate the interest rate of his godfather's debts faster than a calculator, "but the curves are killing me."
Kanda took a clearly disinterested sip of his coffee, but Allen didn't mind as much when he had a sudden brilliant idea. "Hey! If we're taking the same classes, do you mind if I see last Wednesday's notes? I missed a lot of the lecture because of... reasons, and it's been really stressing me out."
"Is that why you've been such a piss baby?" Kanda asked, shuffling through the papers on the table.
Well, no, not really, but- "Yes." It'd sure as hell take a lot of stress off of him if he had those notes.
"Alright," Kanda said simply, and Allen's heart soared. "But on one condition."
And then it sank, because knowing Kanda it could be anything. "What?"
"Make me another coffee, because your co-workers don't get it right, and tell me your shifts."
The coffee Allen could get, because while his co-workers did pay a lot of attention to Kanda's good looks, it wasn't the same kind of attention Allen gave. Wait.
"Why do you want to know my shifts?"
Kanda scowled, holding the notes hostage against his chest. "Why else? So I can avoid you!"
"Ugh, fine!" Allen said, catching a scowl from one of the baristas and -oops! His break was over. "Come grab the coffee, I have to get back to work. Give me the notes later!"
Behind the counter, Allen scrawled the days he was working on the side of the coffee and handed it to Kanda. It was only when another employee gave a low whistle and wag of his brows did Allen realize what that looked like, exactly.
For once, Kanda left before the cafe closed. But, on his usual table were a neat pile of notes, and on them a yellow sticky note with Kanda's name and number.
.
.
.
A group project, a few other assignments and not to mention a well-deserved dinner and bullshit drinking session took up his whole weekend, so on Monday Allen still hadn't looked at Kanda's notes, let alone even reviewed them properly. He resolved to at least get them photocopied by the end of the day so he could return them sooner.
He wasn't sure what exactly gave him the sudden burst of courage. Maybe it was actually understanding what Nyne was lecturing about, or getting everything written down on the first go around. Maybe it was the cup of tea he'd had, or the energy bar, or just the right weather. Maybe it was Kanda's phone number and notes in his bag, waiting to be looked at.
Whatever it was, before class ended, Allen wrote one last note on the desk.
.
.
.
His next class ended early, and Allen resolved to look over Kanda's notes before one of his tutoring sessions. Nyne had the same class directly after his, so he walked over to the building it was housed in, taking Kanda's phone number out to at least save on his phone. He was bound to lose it if he just kept it on a sticky note like that.
Still, he mused as he walked through the building, distracted. The handwriting looked very familiar. It was neat, prim in a way. The pen was smooth enough that the letters connected in an almost cursive like manner, and Allen could only hope his notes were as legible in the same writing.
Yet, why was it so familiar to him?
Nyne's class was just ending as Allen walked in and he internally cheered at his for once perfect timing. He was just about to make a beeline for the professor to ask her something when he stopped, staring.
There, at his usual desk, was Kanda.
No.
No way.
Slowly, Allen weaved his way around the students, giving half apologies to those he bumped and hastily rearranging chairs he disturbed. Kanda was bent over at the waist, backpack sitting on the chair and open, as if Kanda had been stuffing papers inside before getting distracted.
Allen stopped a few short feet away, watching in disbelief as Kanda wrote a short message out in pencil.
"No way."
At his voice, Kanda jerked up, spinning to face Allen.
"It was you the whole time?" Allen asked, only slightly concerned at how high his voice went.
"What are you doing here?" Kanda demanded, scowling fiercely in what Allen finally realized to be embarrassment.
"Oh my God," Allen said, looking around to center himself in what surely could not be reality. Nyne already had a long queue of students, as did the TAs, and Allen had lost his chance to ask before needing to head to work, but- "It can't be you."
"'It can't be me' what?" Kanda tucked the pencil into a side pocket and zipped up his bag, shrugging it on while maintaining a level glare at Allen.
Allen pushed forward, ignoring Kanda's small hiss as Allen invaded his personal space to look at their shared desk.
'What's your name?'
'Kanda.'
"It is you," Allen said with dawning horror. Because there was no way Allen had fallen for the same guy twice. Absolutely no way. Allen had more sense than that, surely. He nearly ripped the shoulder pads off his backpack with how fast he took it off and slammed it on the chair, rifling through it for Kanda's notes.
Jerking them out, he set them side by side with Kanda's last reply, and found a perfect match in the pencil on both sides.
"Are you saying," Kanda began slowly, eyes moving from his notes to the messages on the desk. "That the idiot I've been talking to is you?"
That was all it took to snap Allen out of his fogged state. "Well, it's no surprise that the two biggest assholes I've met on campus turned out to be the same person," Allen snapped, taking the notes and shoving them back inside his bag.
"Hey!" Kanda made a grab for Allen's backpack, and Allen yanked it out of his reach. "Those are mine! Give them back!"
"No!" Allen said snidely, securely zipping it back up and pulling it on. "I'm not done with them yet! I'll give them back to you when you come to stalk me at my job again."
"I'm not stalking you," Kanda growled, looking for all the world like he might murder Allen on the spot.
"Yes you are," Allen said primly, gazing forlornly at the long line of students waiting for help. "And you've ruined my moment to get one of the TA's before they got swamped. You should help me study. It's your fault I need to as much as I do."
"That makes no damn sense," Kanda snapped, but he still followed Allen as he made his way out of the classroom. "I'm not responsible for anyone's grades but my own."
"If you're going to be spending all that time at the cafe studying, you might as well make it worth both our time by doing double the duty!" Allen said cheerfully, though really he just wanted Kanda to explain the lesson he'd missed.
"I hope you fail," Kanda growled.
"If your notes are as shitty are your personality is, then I just might!" Allen laughed, and Kanda grumbled something beneath his breath that might have been less than pleasant, but, well.
Maybe it was actually understanding what Nyne had lectured about, or getting everything written down on the first go around. Maybe it was the cup of tea he'd had, or the energy bar, or just the right weather. Maybe it was Kanda's phone number he'd saved, waiting to send a text to. Maybe it was finally getting a reply to his tentative question.
Whatever it was, Allen was feeling pretty happy.
A/N: A quick fic I wrote during a stream some time ago. Just a cute yullen for the books. I was writing a domestic fic when it occurred to me that I hadn't posted this one here.
P.s. Kanda's spot in the cafe is in the exact ideal position to see the counter at all times. ;)