He Might Like Coffee

Coffee

To begin with Bakugou didn't even like coffee. He found the taste to be just as pleasant as drinking a cup of black tar, too thick and bitter for him to possibly keep down. And it did such terrible things to the body, like raising your blood pressure or triggering an adrenaline rush that he of all people didn't need — not to mention how addictive the stuff was.

Yet here he was standing in front of a coffee shop.

And he completely blamed it on the shitty day he was having — a shitty week to be honest. Considering he was now on a forced vacation because of an accident that landed him in the hospital with a broken arm. A broken arm that he was refused healing quirk treatment on because fucking Deku decided 'he's pushing himself too hard' and 'he needed to take a break anyway.' And not a single soul would go against the pillar of peace's wishes.

So he had been stuck 'relaxing' at home except he didn't know how to. It had been years since he had done anything other than saving lives and filing paperwork. He couldn't remember the last time he sat down in one place doing absolutely nothing and he could only exercise so much.

And sure he hung out with his friends from time to time. Going to a bar or lounging around at Mina's house but this was different. He was surrounded by his gaggle of idiots during those times but now he's all alone. Stuck in his big ass apartment with not a single thing to do.

Which was why he was here at this shop — a change of scenery he supposed.

Bakugou pushed open the front door to be greeted by the chime of a bell and the distinct scent of coffee. Coupled with the ever cheery voice of a barista sounding at the front and a friendly wave hello.

Surveying the area Bakugou noticed just how vacant the place was. The coffee shop was basically empty if he didn't count the two cats curled up on top of the counter, right next to the cash register. One pale blonde and the other black, curled up into one another having an afternoon nap right where the sun shined through the windows.

Bakugou chose a seat close to the back and took out a book Momo bought him. She'd given him the book to help pass the time while he recovered. Told him it was a best seller and a mystery that would keep him guessing until the end. But he was sure the killer was the obvious idiot the author thought he was being sneaky with. Not that he wouldn't finish it, he had to make sure he was right.

"Can I get you anything?" A suspiciously familiar voice asked.

"Coffee," Bakugou muttered, keeping his eyes on the book in front of him. The dumbass had just slipped up and said something stupid to the detective.

"Coffee? Could you be more specific," the voice questioned, the tiredness of it catching his attention.

He looked up to find one Hitoshi Shinsou staring at him and if he was being honest he might have done a double take — what the hell?

"Why the hell are you here?" Bakugou demanded, blunt as always.

The corner of Shinsou's mouth twitched, "good to see you too."

"I didn't say that shit," Bakugou frowned, getting a good look at his appearance.

He looked like he was working there. Suited up in a white button up shirt and black slacks. Along with a dark green apron and a pair of black sneakers. Strangely enough another cat laid across his neck too — completely at home on him.

Shinsou rolled his eyes,"you didn't have to. Are you sure you can't be more specific on what kind of coffee you want?"

"You didn't answer my question," Bakugou said, setting his book down and giving Shinsou his complete attention.