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Sanada hears the familiar tones of Yukimura's laugh and looks up from his research paper to see what's going on. He doesn't recognize the guy the barista is talking to, but he knows that the man is flirting. The stance and his nonchalant manner make it very clear. He frowns and clears his throat. Yukimura looks his way, smiling a little bit brighter as the man keeps talking. He stops typing long enough to finish his chai.
Saving the document and setting the laptop aside, Sanada wanders up to the counter, empty mug in hand. He stands next to the guy and is pleased to find out he has a few centimeters on his new rival. Yukimura calmly slips the cup out of Sanada's hands.
“Akaya, won't you make Atobe-kun his order?” he asks, turning his back to the customers.
Kirihara rushes over, incredibly pleased with himself. Niou rolls his eyes and punches in the code for a chai tea whatever that Yukimura has started to make for his married man.
“Is he new?” Atobe asks, his pleasant demeanor quickly falling to the wayside.
Yukimura looks over his shoulder at the customer and nods. “But,” he says at the look of shock on Atobe's face, “he's quite skilled. Aren't you, Akaya?”
“Yes, kachou!” he says excitedly and grabs a venti cup.
“I haven't even ordered.”
Niou waves him off with a roll of his eyes. “Everyone knows your order. You come in every day.”
Atobe huffs and watches as the curly-haired teen carefully crafts his drink. Sanada steps around him and glares as he walks past, meeting Yukimura at the cash register. He places the yen into Niou's hand.
“Jealous is a good look on you, Sanada-kun,” the barista says in a whisper, sliding the mug across the counter. “But I just want you.”
Sanada grunts and picks up the cup, savoring the warmth. He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Yukimura isn't his by any means and Atobe isn't all that attractive anyway. He walks back to his chair, feeling Yukimura's eyes on him the entire time.
“Really, Ore-sama is much nicer to look at than that older gentleman. No doubt he's married,” Atobe says.
Yukimura looks Atobe up and down for a moment. Expensive leather shoes? Check. Pressed slacks and silk shirt? Of course. Impeccable skin, hair, and nails? Done once a week by an in-house stylist. The barista knows the type. He's slept with a few, of both sexes, mainly out of curiosity. He doesn't need the money; his own family is pretty well-off, but he isn't the type to just throw money around. Not like the teen in front of him.
The barista cocks his head to the side and smiles broadly. “Are you married, Atobe-kun?” he asks sweetly.
The diva shakes his head. “I have not found an individual quite as perfect as myself, but I do admit, you would be quite a sight next to Ore-sama.”
“A pity. I like older, more experienced, married men.”
Yukimura steals a glance Sanada's way. Atobe follows it and frowns. How unfortunate. Turning back, Kirihara deposits the latte in front of him, beaming.
“Just how you like it, Atobe-san. Soy venti, double shot, hold the fat, triple whipped, hazelnut mocha latte.”
Atobe looks slightly impressed. Yukimura places a hand on Kirihara's shoulder. “Very good, Akaya. That is perfect. You can go on break now. You too, Niou.”
Kirihara's smile widens further as he hops to the back. Niou pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his apron pocket and taps out one.
“Wait up pipsqueak,” he mutters, following after.
Atobe rolls his eyes and takes a sip. Better than the mushroom-haired barista, but still not quite as amazing as the one standing in front of him.
“I should hire you to make my drinks for me whenever I wish for them.”
Yukimura laughs mirthfully. “You couldn't afford me,” he says, slipping the one thousand yen note out of Atobe's free hand and getting his change.