Ikuya is a florist who promotes his business mostly through social media with a completely healthy relationship with coffee who happens to meet Hiyori who is a barista with a less than great social life.
Or the HiyoIku flower shop/coffee shop/social...
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The initial shock had now worn off and Ikuya couldn't help the smile that was seemingly plastered onto his face as he stared at the scribbled writing on the cup and the doodled flower. There was no doubt about it now, the barista who had caught his attention when he had gone along with Natsuya to the cafe was the same barista who he happened to have started talking to.
And started falling for...
He shook the thought out of his head as he climbed the stairs up to the apartment he shared with his brother, hoping the door was left unlocked as he used his elbow to push the handle down and nudged the door open with his shoulder. Luck seemed to be on his side as the door swung open easily and he quickly slipped his shoes off in the doorway, kicking them to one side before knocking the door closed with his hip.
"Natsuya, I got your stupid coffee," He called to the abnormally quiet apartment, making his way to the living room.
Upon entering the room, he spotted Natsuya leaning against the back of the sofa, a grin plastered on his face, only serving to send Ikuya into defensive mode.
"What?" Ikuya couldn't disguise the suspicion in his voice as he handed his brother his drink.
"Just thinking I really should have sent you on your own sooner,"
"Shut up," Ikuya grumbled, knowing he couldn't get away from the teasing that was about to ensue.
"It worked then?" Natsuya must have caught the confused glance that Ikuya sent his way as he elaborated "Sending you in there, you finally realised who you'd been talking to?"
Ikuya simply looked at him blankly.
"You knew?"
"Of course," Natsuya grinned triumphantly "It was fairly obvious,"
"Way to rub it in," Ikuya grumbled, pulling his phone out as he took a seat, holding his drink between his knees, "I thought he was familiar but thought maybe I'd imagined it."
"You're hopeless,"
Ikuya chose to ignore that last comment, instead pulling up the messaging app on his phone and typing in the number scrawled on the cup. He had to pause and think for a moment before typing out a message, hoping to find the right balance between enthusiastic and overbearing
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