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When Akutagawa had been asked as a teenager where he saw himself in five years, the answer had never been “making minimum wage as a Starbucks barista.” Art school, maybe, or working towards a degree in business. Possibly working in a library or a book store. Perhaps writing short stories for newspapers or magazines. Not working ten hour shifts brewing coffee for impatient customers who didn’t value him any more than they valued the dust beneath their shoes.
He supposed he didn’t really have a right to complain, though. He was making money. He had a place to live. He was surviving, despite the fact that he didn’t have much else going for him in his life. And Akutagawa knew that he wasn’t a very agreeable person. It was a miracle that he had even been hired at all, what with his poor social skills and short temper.
But there were some days that Akutagawa felt like working in this place really wasn’t all that bad at all. More specifically, there were days when a certain blue-eyed redheaded man came into the shop and brightened up Akutagawa’s mood simply by being there. Just glancing at him made Akutagawa’s heart soar inside of his chest.
He was a very beautiful man. He lit up the dim atmosphere of the cafe with that dazzling smirk of his. His hair looked like fire both in its color and its waves and curls. His eyes were as blue as the sky outside the shop. He always dressed like he had something formal to attend to. There was a chain attached to the brim of the fedora that he always wore, which Akutagawa had found himself distracted by on multiple occasions.
It was ridiculous how happy a person could feel around someone that they hardly even knew. Akutagawa felt thoroughly disgusted and embarrassed with himself every time he caught himself smiling when the redhead was around, or when he heard how his voice went from its usual monotone to far more expressive speech whenever he was talking to the redhead. It was so stupid that his favorite part of every week was seeing the redhead. For God’s sake, he didn’t even know the man’s name.
“Hey, can I get a grande s’mores frappuccino?”
“Sure thing, sir. Can I get a name for your order?”
“Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All.”
Said with an unfaltering voice and an unwavering visage of neutrality, as if this was totally normal and that was definitely the redhead’s real name.
Akutagawa couldn't help but snort with laughter, though, he quickly disguised it by covering his mouth with his elbow, closing his eyes, and faking the rest of a cough. This was nothing new; lots of people came in here and gave the name “Godzilla” or something equally ridiculous when asked for a name to place on their order. Akutagawa dealt with this quite often. It was just that this was the first time that anyone had ever given him a ridiculous name with a straight face, and it was the first time he had heard someone use “Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All.” Normally, Akutagawa was annoyed by the customers who made him shout out ridiculous names when their orders were ready, but there was something about the way that this redhead was doing it that just made it seem quite funny.
“Right, well, Stormageddon, your drink will--”
“Dark Lord of All,” the redhead interrupted, his voice still unwavering. “It’s Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All.”
Akutagawa disguised a laugh again. “My apologies, Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All. Your drink will be ready for you at the end of the counter.”
“Thanks,” the redhead said with a smile. He paid for his drink and then went to wait for it at the end of the counter.
That was how their first meeting had gone. Akutagawa had been star struck by the customer’s beauty and then left with a stupid smile on his face for the rest of the day because of the customer’s tomfoolery. That was where Akutagawa’s little crush had begun.
The trouble was, Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All, was not just a one-off customer, nor did he possess just one absurd name. He came to that same Starbucks three times a week, every week. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Every time he came in, he gave a different name with his order.
“Can I get a grande peppermint mocha?” the redhead asked the second time he had come in.
Akutagawa smirked lightly as he typed the redhead’s order into the register. “Sure thing, Stormageddon, Dark Lo--”
“Aaaactually, it’s Honey-senpai today,” the redhead corrected.
Akutagawa paused and glanced back at the redhead. “Honey-senpai? Like the kid from the host club anime?”
“Yep!” the redhead said, smiling broadly and pressing his index fingers into his cheeks. “Can’t you see the resemblance?”
Now that he was asked about it, Akutagawa could indeed see the resemblance. Both the redhead and the host club kid were utterly adorable and quite frankly too short for their ages. Akutagawa suddenly felt heat rising in his cheeks and he quickly looked back down at the register.
“Well, Honey-senpai, your drink will be ready for you at the end of the counter.”
The third encounter was no different. Nor the fourth, nor the fifth, nor any encounter after that. Every time, Akutagawa would use the last name that the redhead had given him, but every time, the redhead would correct him with something else.
“Nah, it’s Chewbacca.”
“It’s Lady Gaga today.”
“Nope, I’m the Sand Guardian, Guardian of the Sand.”
“Shadow the Hedgehog, actually.”
“I’m Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town.”
“The Incredible Hulk.”
“You will address me as Princess Consuela Bananahammock.”
“Today I’m actually Princess Consuela Bananahammock’s husband, Crap Bag.”
While it was funny at first, Akutagawa found that every time the redhead gave him a different name, he found it slightly less amusing than the last. He would still chortle at them. They would still make him smile. The issue was that Akutagawa was falling more and more in love with this man every day and he still didn’t know what the man was actually called. It was actually starting to get on his nerves, and the comments that his sister made to him when he got home every day were not making matters any better.
“Gin! I’m home!” Akutagawa called as he opened the door of the apartment that they shared together.
“No need to shout, I’m right here, ya big dummy,” Gin said, turning around and peaking her head out from behind the chair that she was sitting in, which was in front of the front door of the apartment.
“Dinner’s on the stove if you’re hungry,” she added as Akutagawa stepped into the apartment and shut the door.
“Thanks,” Akutagawa said, and began to walk to the kitchen.
Gin stood up from her chair and followed Akutagawa with a sly smile on her face. She had eaten dinner before Akutagawa had gotten home, but she had a reason to pester her brother this evening. It was a Thursday evening, after all.
“So, did you see Stormageddon again today?” she asked, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen.
Akutagawa grimaced. “I told you to quit calling him that,” he said, opening the cabinet where the bowls were kept and grabbing one off of the shelf.
“Oh, right. Well, what was his name today?”
“...Mothman.”
Gin burst out laughing.
“Shut up. It isn’t funny,” Akutagawa growled as he ladled ramen and broth from the pot on the counter into his bowl.
“It’s actually really hilarious,” Gin said after she had managed to calm down.
“It’s annoying,” Akutagawa said, opening a drawer and rummaging through it until he found a pair of chopsticks.
“If it annoys you so much then why don’t you just ask him what his real name is?” Gin asked.
“Because that’s… Weird,” Akutagawa said, closing the drawer and carrying his bowl and chopsticks over to the kitchen table. “He’s just a customer. We aren’t friends. If I ask him to tell me his real name, he’ll think I like him or something…”
“So? You do like him, don’t you?” Gin asked.
“No,” Akutagawa said bluntly, sitting down at the table.
Gin gave him a look. “Ryu.”
“He doesn’t need to know that,” Akutagawa grumbled, his voice barely audible, before stuffing his mouth full of ramen noodles.
“Just ask him, Ryu! The worst that can happen is he gives you a slightly less ridiculous name that you’ll believe is his real name when it really isn’t!” Gin said.
“If that’s the worst that can happen then it’s not worth the risk,” Akutagawa said, his mouth still full of food.
Gin rolled her eyes and stood up straight. “You’re such a baby, Ryu,” she said as she turned around and walked back into the living room.
Akutagawa and Gin had more or less the same conversation every evening on a day that the redhead came into the shop. Every night, Gin would make fun of the redhead’s names just to get on her brother’s nerves, and every night she would try to convince him to ask the redhead’s real name, but every night, Akutagawa refused. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was so stupid for him to have a crush on a man that he barely knew. His infatuation would fade away soon, he was sure.
Akutagawa saw the redhead again next Monday, as usual. A smile plastered itself all over Akutagawa’s face as soon as he saw the redhead enter the cafe, as usual. The redhead ordered a drink and gave Akutagawa another ridiculous name, as usual. And yet, something very unexpected happened on this day that Akutagawa could never have seen coming.
“Can I get a grande iced cappuccino?” the redhead asked.
“Sure, Mothman. Your-”
“Actually,” the redhead began, and leaned forward until he could prop his elbows up on the counter, hold his chin in his hands, and give Akutagawa what looked strangely like a seductive smile, “today you can call me Single.”
Akutagawa choked on air.
He didn’t have to fake a cough for this name. No, instead he choked and then began violently coughing for real in his surprise. The redhead’s eyes widened and he stood up straight again. He tried to reach his arms across the counter to pat Akutagawa’s back or something, but that proved nearly impossible what with the register in the way and how short he was.
“Oh, Jesus-- I’m so sorry I didn’t think you would have reacted that way, shit I’m so sorry--”
Akutagawa waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine--” he stuttered out, giving one last cough before the fit stopped. “I’m fine. It’s fine. I just--”
He looked at the redhead, his eyes narrowing. “Were you just trying to ask me out?”
“Uh… That depends?” the redhead replied.
“That depends?” Akutagawa asked in confusion. “Depends on what?”
“If you want me to ask you out or not?” the redhead said.
Akutagawa’s mouth dropped open. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was some sound that sounded vaguely like a cat being strangled. After a moment, he closed his mouth, narrowed his eyes again, held his index finger up, and took a deep breath.
“Sir, while I do think you are very attractive and it would please me a great deal to go on a date with you, I’ll have to tell you I have a strict rule for myself that I won’t ever break and it’s that I won’t go out with someone if I don’t even know what their name is.”
The redhead blinked a few times, then laughed softly.
“What, you don’t want to be able to tell everyone that your boyfriend is Mothman? How fuckin’ sick would that be?” he said.
Akutagawa simply stared at him, for once completely unamused by the redhead’s antics.
The redhead sighed exaggeratedly. “Alright, alright, you got me. My name’s Chuuya. Nakahara Chuuya. Now will you go out with me?”
Chuuya.
Akutagawa repeated the name in his head and decided that it was his favorite name in the world.
“I suppose going on a date with you won’t hurt anything,” Akutagawa said, giving Chuuya a smile. “At any rate, Chuuya will surely be a much better boyfriend than Mothman.”