It's still dark when Genos's alarm clock screeches. He gropes around his nightstand in the dark, finally finding the damned thing and jabbing the sleep button. He yawns, rolling around in bed until he's tangled sufficiently enough in his blankets to warrant a struggle. He squints out at the balcony; only the faintest scrawl of sunrise is crawling over the horizon, the shimmering city below sleeping.

No birds were chirping, and the air was not yet a redolence of coffee cream or sugar doughnuts.

It was, in other words, a perfect morning.

He dresses in his standard ensemble, a white tanktop and jeans, hooking his shoes on with one hand as he locks the door with the other. There's no one else in the complex awake, and Genos enjoys a quiet elevator ride down, taking a deep breath as he steps out into the street.

He enjoys the quiet walks in the morning, when the city is slumbering, docile, vulnerable in the dark before sunlight paints the trees chiaroscuro and breathes life into solemn stillness.

A few blocks down pebbled pavement, and he reaches the coffee shop. As usual, he's the first one there.

Unlocking the back door, Genos slips into the front counter, reaching down to pull his work apron out of the bottom drawer of the counter.

He starts up the coffee machines, tapping his fingers on the counter and staring out the window. The sun's starting to rise now, and there's the faintest rumble of an engine in the distance.

Genos checks the amount of coffee beans they have; there seems to be enough arabica and robusta to last them the week. There was a delivery just yesterday, but there was a surprising influx of customers-something about a famous singer coming to town, or that sort.

Lost in thought, he doesn't notice the door swing open.

"Genos?"

He jumps. "S-sensei!"

Saitama sighs, joining him behind the counter, rummaging around for his apron. "I thought I told you, you don't have to always come this early."

"I just want to make sure everything is ready for the day." Genos promptly responds. "I want to be just as efficient as you are, sensei."

"Seriously, this kid.." He think he hears Saitama mumble.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, nothing." Saitama checks the coffee machines, then nods. "Good job."

"Thank you!"

Both of them stand in companionable silence for awhile, and Genos takes the time to admire Saitama's fingers as they deftly flick through the coffee menu.

They had met through a pest control company.

Fresh out of high school and majoring in the culinary arts , Genos was looking for a part-time job. Thankfully, one of his friends was working for a pest eradication company that needed employers, and Genos leaped at the opportunity.

Saitama had called about a mosquito problem of all things, and Genos, being nearby, was assigned the task. He didn't know what he was expecting, but when Saitama opened the door, Genos was taken aback.

Who had a bald haircut this era?

Genos got rid of the single mosquito that had prompted the call, and Saitama asked him if he wanted to stay for a cup of coffee.

The coffee Genos had that day was, no doubt, the best coffee he had ever tasted in his life.

He'd known about the different types and kinds of coffee-nutty, smooth, milky, dark, aromatic-but the coffee that he tasted that day was enough for him to drink two cups, and ask for more.

Finally, by the end, Genos begged Saitama to teach him.

"Well," Saitama had said. "I'm opening a coffee shop soon; do you want to work there?"

Genos immediately quit the job at the pest company and started the next day. Taking meticulous notes, microanalyzing Saitama's every move, from how much milk he put in to how he tossed the beans in the grinder-to this day, he still couldn't copy it perfectly.

"Ah, it's time to open." Saitama pushed himself off the counter, walking to the glass door and flipping the wooden CLOSED sign to OPEN.

Indeed, as Genos looked out the window, the city was awake.

The stream of customers they had that day was a trickle at first, then thickened to a steady flow as the first hours of morning ticked by.

Many of them were regular customers, Tatsumaki, bundled up in her wool coat, demanding her vanilla latte in her sharp, no-nonsense way, and her sister, Fubuki, greeting them with a customary smile.

King arrived a little bit later that hour, chatting with Saitama while Genos frantically attempted to balance 2 trays of coffee cups as he navigates through the thin spindled tables in the cafe.

Later, as the clock nears 12 and the stream of customers finally die down, there is no sound in the cafe except for the occasional clinking of china and soft hum of the coffee machine.

Genos is looking over his notebook again, tapping a pen to his lips as he scans his notes. There was a coffee that Saitama had showed him yesterday, the cafe bombon. Although it was just condensed milk and espresso, there was a delicate art to adding the condensed milk-one had to pour it slowly, so that the milk would create two contrasting bands of color.

Best served in a glass cup, Genos scribbles down. He was itching to make it, but they had a limited amount of coffee beans-not enough for Genos to experiment.

He sighs. He'll have to convince the next customer to order it-maybe he'll pass it off as a special.

The bell jingles, and Genos jumps up. "Welcome!"

"Hahh?" The customer frowns and wipes his hand on his pants. "There's something on the doorknob."

It's a boy, slim and young. His hair is black and windswept, a dark green parka tossed over a black turtleneck, willowy legs in dark pants. His eyes are amber-green, large and dark against his pale face, but the most striking part about the boy were the twin streaks of vibrant purple under his eyes, a wash of color in a monochrome face.

A tattoo? Genos wondered.

"Sorry about that," Genos bows. "Is there anything you would like to order today?"

The boy opens his mouth "I would like-"

"Would you like something sweet?" Genos continues on. "The sweet drinks in this shops are highly recommended, right, sensei?" He looks towards Saitama, who stares back at him blankly. "Ah. Yeah."

Looking back at the boy, Genos puts on his best winning smile, gesturing to the chalkboard menu behind him. "The cafe bombon is the cafe special of the day! It's simply condensed milk and espresso, but it's perfect if you prefer sweeter coffee!"

"Ah, I-"

"It's a type of coffee that's been re-created to suit refined European tastes! It's a one-one ratio of milk and coffee!"

The boy looks torn. He lifts a finger up to his mouth, biting it nervously.

Genos waits a minute. "So, will you have the cafe bombon?"

"Er...give me a black coffee, no sugar." The boy suddenly says, smoothly.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have the cafe bombon-"

"Yes, I'm sure!" The boy scowls. "How many times do you have to ask me?!"

Genos sighs. Looks like he won't be able to make the coffee today.

He punches in the order in the keypad. "Will that be all?"

"Yes."

Getting a espresso cup and a marker, Genos realizes that he hasn't asked for the boy's name.

"Can I have your name?"

"Speed of sound Sonic."

Genos pauses, then looks back at the boy, who has the smuggest grin he's ever seen on anyone in his whole life. "What kind of name is that?"

"Oy! You got a problem with it?!"

"It's like saying round circle."

"Shut up!" Sonic glowers at him. "If you ever witnessed my superior speed, you would know!"

Genos raises an eyebrow, but scribbles it on the cup anyway. "It'll be ready in a few minutes."

"It better be," Sonic mumbles, pulling out a chair. He looks back up, and sees Saitama staring at him. "What are you looking at, aproned baldy?"

"You do not talk to Saitama sensei like that!" Genos glares at Sonic, who balefully stares back.

After awhile, Sonic ducks his head down and mumbles, "Whatever, just make the coffee." He tugs on the zipper of his parka.

What a weird guy, Genos thinks as he tosses the coffee beans in the grinder. The hazy scent of coffee intensifies, and out of the corner of his eye, Genos swears he can see Sonic flinch.

"Here's your coffee," Genos says, smoothly sliding the cup over the counter.

"T-thanks." Sonic gingerly takes it, inhaling a deep wiff and coughing.

"Are you okay?"

"Mind your own business!"

Sonic watches the barista raise an eyebrow and walk back to the counter. He turns back to the coffee in his hands. It was extremely warm, on the edge of scorching.

He darts his gaze around the coffee shop-an old man in the corner behind a copy of The New York Times, a pair of girls chatting by the window, the baldy at the counter with what appears to be a grocery list, and the infuriating barista, who seems to be wrestling with the plastic on a new set of coffee cups.

Sonic lifts the cup to his mouth and takes a sip. Immediately, he wants to spit it out.

It was the most bitter thing he had ever tasted in his life.

It wasn't that Sonic didn't enjoy coffee-in fact, he enjoyed it immensely. With at least three bags of sugar. And two packets of coffee cream.

He takes another sip of the coffee and grimaces. He looks towards the silver rack next to the counter, piled high with pink and white sugar packets, with two stainless steal containers of coffee cream on the edges-and oh god does he want to add some sugar.

Sonic forces himself to take another two gulps. I'll get used to it, he reassures himself. The cup was almost half empty now. He wasn't what you would call addicted to coffee, but he consumed it in a fair amount. However, the other day when he'd been browsing in the internet, he stumbled on an article about how black coffee was good for you-and those 'sweetened confectioners' weren't.

Apparently boasting properties such as a crapton of Antioxidants and nutrients, it was also rumored to help burn fat. Not that Sonic needed it.

Okay, maybe he started getting a little self conscious after someone asked him if he had gained weight recently-but that wasn't the case, he just wanted to live a healthier lifestyle.

Obviously.

Genos frowns as he wipes down the counter. It wasn't like he was deliberately looking or anything, but he couldn't help but notice the customer-Sonic, constantly make faces as he drank his coffee.

It was strange...why in the world would he order something he obviously didn't like?

Is he trying to look mature or something? Genos wonders, rolling his eyes as he starts sweeping the floor.

Sonic finishes the coffee in one gulp, almost gagging at bitter aftertaste it leaves in his mouth. He slumps over his chair, giving a long-suffering sigh.

He twirls the coffee cup idly in his hands, and that's when he sees it.

On the side of the cup, written in neat, precise handwriting-seriously, who had handwriting that neat it was like text-was "What a redundant name."

Sonic pushes the chair back with such force that the screech echoes through the coffee shop.

Stalking up to the counter, he throws the coffee cup into the trash can and leans towards the barista. "Thanks for the coffee," Sonic catches a glance at the employee's shiny name tag, "...Jae-nos".

"That's not how-"

Sonic smirks and pushes himself off counter, walking out of the coffee shop with a dismissal wave.

Genos is frozen in shock. Behind him, Saitama asks, "Who was that kid?"

Sonic comes back the next day, and the day after that, the day after that. Genos asks him both times if he wants the cafe bombon.

Sonic refuses.

Genos keeps writing sarcastic jibes on Sonic's coffee cup, and in return, Sonic mispronounces his name in increasingly horrific ways.

Today, it's raining outside, and the world is blurred in subdued washes of lamp-light yellow and glistering green.

Genos and Saitama lay out an umbrella stand by the door today, and Genos takes extra care when mopping the floor-one nasty slip a month ago had almost caused a lawsuit.

The coffee smells richer today.

The bell rings.

"Welcome!" Genos offers. He looks towards the entrance, startled.

Sonic's standing by the door, resplendent in a thin brown raincoat, feet encased in long boots, drenched.

"Yo," Sonic says, shaking himself off slightly as he moves towards the counter, sighing happily at the warmth of the cafe.

"Did you not use an umbrella?" Genos asks, dumbfounded as Sonic fishes out a wet dollar and pushes it across the counter.

Sonic scoffs. "Who needs an umbrella?"

Obviously you, Genos thinks as he watches the rain from Sonic's clothes drip onto the floor.

The boy's hair is matted and wet, long bangs sticking to his face. His eyelashes are damp, framing his irises in charcoal shadow, and-what was he thinking Sonic was dripping water everywhere oh my god how long will that take to clean.

"Sit down." Genos frowns, pushing Sonic down into a chair. He gets a towel from behind the counter, and puts it on Sonic's head. "Dry yourself off."

Sonic, true to character, refuses. "Why should I?"

"Because you'll catch hypothermia, idiot. There are literally 3 million google search results for why walking in the rain is bad for your health-"

"Okay, I get it I get it." Sonic starts rubbing himself dry, soaking through the towel in minutes. Genos watches, equal parts fascinated and irritated at the increasing amount of water that was dripping on the floor.

"Are you a human sponge, or something?"

Sonic looks at him. "No, I just like the rain."

"Enough to get sick over it?"

Sonic laughs. "Get this, Jin-ous, I've never gotten sick because of the rain."

"Well, don't make it the first." Genos returns behind the counter, starting off the coffee machine. "Would you like a cafe bo-"

"No."

When he gives the coffee to Sonic, the first thing the boy does is inspect the cup. "There's nothing on here today," Sonic says, looking up at Genos. "Did you run out of creativity?"

"No, I just assumed you would know your own name by now." Genos replies, starting to mop the floor.

Sonic watches him with disinterest. Then, "Thanks, Genos."

Genos looks at him, a smile spreading across his face. "Wow, so you do actually know how to pronounce english."

Sonic scoffs. "Not a chance, robo-boy."

"Robo-boy?"

"Don't you always wear those shirts with robots on them? What, do you have a massive collection of figurines or something?"

Genos was loath to admit that the only thing he had a giant collection of were cookbooks. He continues mopping the floor, and Sonic sips his coffee, still making faces of discomfort.

"If you hate it so much, why do you still order it?"

Sonic looks surprised, then bats his lashes. "It's so I can see you, sweetheart."

Genos rolls his eyes and continues mopping. "Looking cool isn't worth it if you hate every moment of it."

"How dare you." Sonic sounds offended. "I'm simply trying to live a healthy lifestyle, and drinking coffee with copious amounts of sugar isn't worth it."

"Aren't you worried about your caffeine intake?"

"No. I'm used to drinking lots of coffee anyway-I have a night job."

"At a nightclub?!"

"No! I'm a nighttime security guard for a museum."

Genos can't help it, he laughs. "You? A security guard? I'm surprised they don't all mistake you for female."

Sonic scowls. "Shut up, is working at a coffee shop any better?"

"Genos!" Saitama calls from behind the counter. "I'm going out for the sale they have at the supermarket today, could you manage on your own for a little while?"

"Yes."

The door closes with a click, and there's ensuing silence left as Saitama leaves.

Genos resumes wiping the dry floor.

"I seem to be getting used to black coffee anyway," Sonic piques. "It's gotten less and less disgusting each day."

"Oh." Genos stops wiping and looks at him. "I added sugar."

"YOU-"

Sonic watches Genos like a hawk from that day on when he's making the espresso, making sure that he didn't add any sugar-but sometimes Genos would sneak in a few teaspoons that he didn't think Sonic would notice.

Sonic starts bringing his textbook and coursework, and Genos learns that Sonic is a japanese history major, focusing on the feudal period of Japan.

Sometimes Genos sits down and listens to Sonic talk-the boy's speech is littered with curse words and profanities and he swears that every third sentence tossed out is an insult towards him, but he's finding himself starting not to mind.

On the third week when he asks Sonic if he wants a cafe bombon, he says yes.

Genos is almost beside himself with delight-he'll finally have a chance to make that drink that he's been dying to try, and he wonders why he hasn't made it earlier, why he's been stubbornly waiting for one of the most infuriating people in existence. His fingers aren't shaking as they spoon in the condensed milk; they're precise and meticulous, just the way Saitama tells him to.

It's on a glass cup today, so Genos is extra careful as he carries it to Sonic's table by the window. Sonic takes the spoon and starts stirring the drink, and Genos watches him with bated breath.

The white mixes with brown in swirls and twists, and soon the color banner is gone.

Sonic puts down the spoon with a clink and raises the cup to his mouth, blowing the curl of steam across the liquid, fogging up the window. He eyes Genos, raising his cup to him in a sort of mock salute, closing his eyes and taking the first sip.

It's as if the whole world has stopped when Sonic swallows.

"...Surprisingly not terrible." Sonic smiles.

Genos feels a phantom tension lift off his shoulders.

There are no grimaces, no disgust today as Sonic finishes his coffee, instead, there is a sense of quiet contentment and Genos is given a slight smile.

"I guess trying to resist the unhealthy was futile after all, no?"

When the coffee is finished, Sonic looks almost disappointed.

"I can make some more if you-" Genos stops mid sentence as Sonic gets up from his chair and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. At the same time, he can feel something slip into his front pocket.

"No need." With a wink, Sonic leaves.

Genos is frozen, and for awhile after the bell dings, he doesn't move. Only when Saitama comes back does he start, cleaning the immaculate floors and numbly wiping the counters down.

When Saitama isn't looking does he finally take the folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

I'm always visiting you at your job, you should come to mine. ;)

Sonic's number and an address is scrawled under it.

Genos covers his face with his hands, equal parts excited and terrified.

What in the world had he gotten himself into?

A/N: Yeah this was meant to be a character study that I could just use to get used to writing them, but one thing lead to another and...it somehow turned into a 3K oneshot, which I actually haven't been able to accomplish in a long time! :')

OPM is full of precious characters and precious storylines, and I hope it'll get even better in the future!

Might think about writing a continuation to this, if some brilliant idea comes up aha

(Muchos thanks to Ersatz Writer for getting me off my butt and writing for the first time in a year...literally...) okay sorry I'll shut up now.

Please leave a review if so obliged! Happy new year!