Iwaizumi checked his watch, frowning at the eerie accuracy of his guess. 12 P.M. on the dot and he turned his head when the door opened, a man dressed in a suit with a cell phone in his hand chatting away to some person with unparalleled tolerance.
"The usual," was the only order he got before the businessman went back to his conversation about his store's sales for the month as he sat down at a nearby table.
Iwaizumi started the machine, blending the creamer and coffee before topping it off with foam. He took a marker from the cup and scribbled the man's his name, misspelling it on purpose out of spite for the obnoxious brunet. His name was Oikawa and he was the CEO of a sports company just a few blocks down the street. His lunch break was from eleven forty-five to twelve fifty, though he only spent half of that time staying here and drinking his coffee. Never once in that time did Oikawa put down his phone, but because of his annoying conversations Iwaizumi had gathered a substantial amount of information about him, including parts of his schedule and personal life.
When the businessman saw that his order was finished he rose from his seat and paid, taking his coffee while chatting away about his "terrible office meeting from hell."
Iwaizumi smirked when he watched Oikawa's eyes widen and his words stutter from seeing the name written on the cup just below the lid. "Asskawa" was scribbled in bold letters, a little heart placed right next to it with a side note of, "thanks for never shutting up."
Oikawa must have been silent for too long because he was quick to apologize to the person on the other end before returning to the topic.
About half an hour passed and it was time for the CEO to depart, the man finishing his coffee, and surprisingly, his conversation. He bid a cheerful good-bye before hanging up, pocking the phone and turning to throw his drink away and leave.
He took a detour towards the barista at his station, grateful for the lack of customers that were absent in line. "So," Oikawa started to gain his attention, "can I call you Iwa-chan?"
"No."
"Well, Iwa-chan," he grinned and leaned down on the counter, his eyes half-lidded and staring at Iwaizumi in a flirtatious manner, "I couldn't help but read your wonderful little note on my drink next to your vulgar joke." He shifted and batted his eyelashes, almost smiling at his action. "Is my voice really that beautiful to you? I'll keep talking if you'd like, for as long as you want."
"Don't you have a company to run or something?" Iwaizumi was wiping the counter with a cloth, cleaning up the recent coffee spill from a previous order. "What made you come and talk to me today? I always write shit like that on your drinks."
"Language, Iwa-chan." Oikawa ignored the protest by the nickname and continued on with the subject. "You know, I get off work at seven tonight. We could go out to dinner if you're up for it. I know a great restaurant a few miles from here that we could-"
"My shift ends at three and I'm not staying here waiting for you." He brushed his green apron down and Oikawa didn't seem intent on leaving very soon.
"You don't have to wait, I'll pick you up from where ever you need me to."
Iwaizumi frowned, watching Oikawa stare at him like he could see right through him. Oikawa pulled a card out from his wallet, the man slipping it into his apron pocket before he turned to leave with a wink. "Call me when you're ready."
Oikawa walked out and Iwaizumi was left to deal with a new customer, the barista making a mental note to screw up Oikawa's order next time.
