Kisumi's pretty damn confused, to be totally honest, when Haru shows up on Sunday lunchtime, especially without any baking. He hardly ever shows up on a Sunday anyway, and he's always religiously avoided peak times. He gives him a confused look, but that's all he can manage, because there's half a dozen customers backed up.

Haru leans against the side of the counter, pressed flat, eyeballing Kisumi with a mix of amusement and concern, but his cakes are disappearing from the cabinet quite nicely, so he affords him a smile when Kisumi again glances over.

"Be with you in a sec," he grunts, apparently a little irritated with the silent staring, and then, "actually, since you're getting it free anyway, get back here and do it yourself."

There's nowhere to sit anyway, so Haru obliges his flustered friend and lets himself into the back to brew up, and, because he's in a good mood, allows Kisumi to nudge him into serving up another batch and refilling the beans in the coffee maker.

"I told you you could be a freelance barista!" Kisumi's giggling, hooking his arm around Haru's neck for the briefest of hugs while he's reaching for a new box of straws with the other hand.

Haru ignores him. "Is it always this busy?" he asks instead.

"Mm," Kisumi nods. "Always at lunchtime, and especially at weekends… not so bad in the mornings, really, just steady, you know?"

"I don't see mornings," Haru shrugs, because of course, his night shift partner gets home in the mornings. Kisumi gives him a poke he only half deserves for that smirk on his face.

"Bet you still see the crack of dawn though!"

"More like the full moon," and they share a side eyed look, and Haru looks so young when he's smiling like that, like they're kids again… almost like the light in his eyes when he first met Rin.

"Oh stop," Kisumi gives him a casual spank, pretending to aim for his hip, but hitting just enough ass for Haru to let out a little yelp.

Haru returns the gesture with a swift jab to the ribs with his elbow, before ducking off to the side to avoid another counter attack, and he rests on Kisumi's stool. "Maybe you should get some staff?"

"Well, I keep trying, he keeps ignoring me," and just that little poke of his tongue out of his mouth is enough of a jab. Haru feels a pang of guilt. Kisumi settles into a smile. "I might try getting some kids in for after school and weekends, though… I can't keep sailing this ship by myself. And I can't really afford adult wages yet," they both know they'd make exceptions for each other.

"You look tired," Haru says quietly, giving him a long, hard observation.

Kisumi nods and shrugs it off.

"What about Makoto?"

"Mochas for the rest of the month," Kisumi smiles brightly.

"Half your custom will be gone," Kisumi likes him when he's sarcastic, and gives his ass a wiggle in Haru's direction while he continues working.

Makoto arrives as they'd arranged, a little before two, and Kisumi has slumped down at the table in front of the counter, with Haru still behind, on the stool.

"There's something wrong with this picture…" he observes, looking between them. Haru looks away.

Kisumi take his cue to grab his rain coat, and double check with Makoto he's confident with the equipment.

"I'll be fine," he assures, "besides, Haru's here."

Haru narrows his eyebrows down at his sketch book, because it's a bit convenient, that, isn't it? He'd only come in for some t –

Oh, who's he kidding? He gives Makoto a stern glare.

"Uh… did I say something wrong?"

"Don't worry about him," Kisumi smiles, leaning over and pinching one of Haru's cheeks, "he won't let you suffer," and he kisses the other one. "Don't wait up!"

He's gone, and Makoto takes a confident position behind the till, donning an apron Haru remembers buying for Kisumi either last Christmas or the one before.

"You're quite close, then?" he asks.

"Hn," Haru agrees. Because long story short, it's something like that. "Since middle school," and why does he feel the need to elaborate?

The afternoon is fairly quiet, and Haru is fairly quiet, but Makoto's taking it in his stride, giving an appreciative nod when Haru gets up to collect dishes and wipe down the tables. He leaves them as a nice little welcome home gift for Kisumi in the back of the kitchen.

There's a group of girls sipping lattes at the large table across from them, and amongst the giggles, Haru's getting snippets of their conversation.

"But Kisumi-san is more well rounded, he's handsome and hot. That one's too skinny, and that one's too cute."

"His eyes are pretty… they're so blue."

"He seems like a jerk though."

There's a shrug. "Maybe he's just shy?"

"No charisma. Not my type. And that other one's sweet but… I want more of a man, you know?"

Haru's holding back a snort, because they'll be 100% arrested if they even wanted to pull anything with these kids, no matter what strings Rin tries to pull.

Makoto does the dishes Haru had left for Kisumi. "I wasn't really expecting you to help," he comments, idly, before biting his tongue on his accidental rudeness.

Haru shrugs. "It was busy; I was bored. Am I skinny?"

"What?" Makoto looks at him, confused by the sudden question, but Haru holds his gaze. He has no choice but to look him up and down. He's seen him in the pool a few times now, and of course that time in Kisumi's bath…. "Not when you're undressed," he concludes, with a blush to his ears.

Haru raises an eyebrow.

"I mean. Uh. You're definitely slim and you're not bulky but you're… you know… toned. I suppose your clothes could make you seem skinny."

He's blushing just furiously now, so Haru lets up and they fall into an easy silence. Easy for Haru, that is. Makoto feels like squirming. Haru's beginning to get annoyed with his fidgeting as they sit waiting for Kisumi. It's an early closing on Sundays, four o'clock, and Kisumi should be back any minute, but Haru knows he's pushing Rin's patience waiting around, because he always makes a roast on Sundays. Oh well. He'll live.

"Are my eyes pretty?" he asks casually.

"Haru?!" Makoto balks. "Where is this coming from?" he just can't stand it, he's never done well with intimate questions, and he can't even look at Haru now, because yes, his eyes are big and blue and sparkly.

"Those girls," Haru shrugs. "They thought Kisumi was better looking than us."

"Oh… sorry," Makoto breathes, because he's so flustered.

"Why? Are my eyes not pretty?"

With a chuckle, Makoto regains enough composure to look back up at him. "Yes, Haru. Your eyes are very pretty."