Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You would like to say that you’re above growing a rather damaging addiction to caffeine. Really, you would. But that’s just not the case. Like the majority of society, you’re very dependent on getting that daily dose of caffeine however you can: energy drinks, coffee, hell, even tea sometimes. 

Which is why you really shouldn’t be so surprised when your beloved coffee maker decides to kick the bucket one morning before work, nothing but cold water running straight through it and into the pot below. 

“No no no!” you exclaim as you watch your baby die before your very eyes, uselessly sputtering with the little LED blinking angrily at you before completely going out. You bury your face in your hands, mourning the loss of the old janky thing that has lasted way longer than you’d expected it to. 

But you don’t really have the time to dawdle. Your shift starts soon—too soon for your liking. Your new job is great, it really is, and your coworkers are nice enough, but gosh do you hate the inconsistent schedule. Sometimes it’s nine-to-five like the average job, but often you find yourself working a graveyard shift or coming in during the afternoon or, like today, expected to be there at the butt-ass-crack of dawn. If a caffeine overdose doesn’t kill you, this job will for certain. 

But you really need to go, so you slip on your jacket while you gather up your phone, wallet, and keys, then lock the door to your apartment behind you as you step out. You’d use the coffee machine at work, but you seriously don’t trust it to function all that better than yours did. That, and you have a certain coworker who uses it every single day, and you’re extremely dubious on what it is he’s actually putting in it. All you know is that from the smell alone, you don’t want it anywhere near your precious bean juice. 

So you resign yourself to your fate, your best---and, frankly, only---option: a coffee shop. Now that you’re an adult living on your own and spending your hard-earned money on things, you've realized just how awful the lot of coffee shops out there are. They really scam you with the prices, and they’re not even that much better than something you can brew at home. 

But you need your daily caffeine. So, reluctantly, you pull up a map on your phone of the coffee places nearby. You’re halfway through looking at the reviews for some random place a block away when you remember that one of your best friends, John, had recommended a little local coffee shop on the corner right past your place of work. You’d never seen it before since you never came this far down the road, but he’d sworn on his life that it was the best coffee he’d ever had. 

But he’d also sworn that McDonald's had the best chicken he’d ever eaten, too, so. You’re not sure how reliable his opinion really is. 

Not that it mattered much, though. Technically, the little shop is closer than any other place and requires less walking, so you’re on board. Anything to not have to squeeze through another block or two on the busy sidewalks. Though you suppose that’s what you get for living in the city.

The walk isn’t that long anyway, barely ten minutes until you’re at your work building. But you keep walking, an odd feeling borne from straying from your usual routine bubbling in your stomach, but you push it aside. 

As the corner of the street begins to come into view, you wonder how on earth you never saw this place before. It sticks out like a sore thumb; instead of the usual gray and brown color palettes of the surrounding buildings, the shop is painted a beautiful blue. There’s a red and yellow striped canopy above the windows and doors, and honestly, this place just looks fun. You’d never expect it to be a coffee shop, of all places. Maybe, like, a daycare or a toy store insead.

Soon you’re standing right outside the little shop, staring up at such a peculiar exterior. In bright bubble lettering, surrounded by a rainbow and stars, the sign on the front says “Superstar Coffee.” There’s also a cartoony looking sun and crescent moon on either side. It’s…really cute, actually. Nothing you’d expect from a city like this, but still absolutely adorable. Even if the coffee tastes like dirt, you know you’ll have been glad you at least gave this place a visit. 

Deciding you’ve probably stood here like a creep for long enough, you open the glass door to the coffee shop, a little bell chiming above you as you enter. Immediately, you’re greeted with warmth and the fresh scent of coffee. There’s a fire burning in a fireplace near the back and other small celestial-themed decorations are hung up around the interior, but nothing nearly as drastic as the outside. 

That is, until you hear a chipper voice call out, “Welcome to Superstar Coffee! Looks like we have another early riser.”

You turn your head to look at whoever is talking to you and give pause. It’s…an animatronic. 

Which isn’t at all weird, of course. What kind of world do you think you live in? There are plenty of other animatronics around the city, and though they’re less common, they’re still considered people, sentient beings with their own thoughts and feelings. (They weren’t always, but that’s an entirely different story for another time.)

No, what stops you in your tracks is that this has to be the gosh darn cutest animatronic you’ve ever seen. His faceplate has a ring of golden rays surrounding it that you realize are meant to resemble the sun, if the bright orange and yellow colors already didn’t give it away. They really like to stick to the theme here, huh?

“Uh, hi,” you oh-so-eloquently respond after an awkward moment of staring that you really hope he doesn’t think too much about. Sky blue pupils never stray from you as you step up to the counter, glancing at the menu above him. You expect the same kind of things most places like this will have, simple drinks with maybe a little flavor to them or pure sugar. But there’s more than one drink on here that’s catching your attention. 

“Ya know, I have a pretty great memory, but I don’t think I’ve seen you here before!” the barista tells you, leaning over the counter while you eye up the drink choices. “Let me know if you have any questions. We’ve certainly got a lot of choices, so please do take your time.”

He’s right about that. Furrowing your eyebrows, your gaze lands back on the animatronic waiting patiently for you to decide. “What’s the Sunnyside?” you read from underneath a section of the menu displayed on a screen above you that has a wide variety of specialty coffees. “Please don’t tell me that it's egg flavored.”

To your surprise, the robot lets out a loud laugh. “Oh ho ho! I don’t think that would meet the egg-spectations of our customers!” he jeers, all smiles and shining blue eyes. (You pointedly ignore the awful pun.) “But no, it’s our specialty orange-flavored cold brew. My own recipe, and one of the most highly recommended here!” 

That… does sound pretty good, and you’re running short on time, so… “Well then, I’ll have that, please, er…” You glance down at him, noticing a neon pink name tag pinned right above his heart, “...Sun.” 

“Oh, how polite!” Sun says as he grabs a cup and a marker, uncapping it and holding it up. “And does such a nice little customer have a name?”

You’re really, truly not sure why, but instead of your name, the first thing you blurt is, “S… Uh, Star?” You blame it on your tired brain and how unfairly cute the barista is, hoping the world will swallow you up when he starts to laugh again. Maybe this celestial-themed hell will do the honors.

“You sound awfully unsure, I don’t think that’s your real name,” he tells you with a snort, though he writes it down on the cup all the same. “But that’s alright. I do love mysteries, y’know! Maybe I can figure it out! I’m pretty perceptive, if I do say so myself.” You swear the animatronic’s chest puffs out a bit as if he’s prideful of that before he moves to start making your drink. Once you can see him fully, you notice he’s wearing an apron over his clothes, blue in color with clouds decorating it and the shop’s logo plastered to the front.

He’s odd, you’re not going to deny it. Definitely a character, from the looks of things. But not in a bad way. You’re already smiling, despite your best efforts not to, and you decide to go along with him. It could be fun, anyway.

“I dunno,” you say, trying your damnedest to act nonchalant as you watch him brew your coffee. “I have a feeling you’re not gonna get it.” 

Sun glances over his shoulder at you, though he never stops what he’s doing. His mouth stretches up into a grin and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Alright, Rumpelstiltskin,” he jests, turning his head at you. “How many guesses do I get? Three? Four?” 

You just shrug. “As many as you want, knock yourself out, but I won’t tell you if you’re right or wrong.”

At that, the animatronic makes what almost sounds like an amused huff, though you know he doesn’t have lungs of any sort. “I guess I’ll just have to figure it out another way,” he relents, stepping back over to the counter, holding your finished drink. “Order up, Sunshine!” 

You don’t even look at the coffee, eyes shooting up to meet his optics. “Sunshine?” you question, though you can’t say you don’t like it. Quite the opposite, in fact. “That’s actually pretty cute.”

Sun’s smile is knowing. “Exactly why I chose it for you,” he says, placing your coffee down onto the counter. Your fingers brush against his as you reach for it, and you have a gut feeling that wasn’t an accident. 

Are you flirting with a robot now? No? Yes? Maybe? You think so? Gosh, this is confusing. 

Instead of giving him a response, you bring your drink closer to you, lifting it up to your lips to take a sip. And, wow, is it good. Better than good, actually. It’s delicious. Maybe even the best coffee you’ve ever had. You were a bit skeptical about how well coffee would mix with orange, but it’s just enough sweetness to combat the bitterness of the coffee, and it leaves a tangy aftertaste once you bring it back down. 

“So?” Sun asks you, bending over the counter to look at you expectantly. “How is it? Worthy of such a nice little customer?” From the expression on his faceplate, he already knows the answer.

You hum for a second as if pondering it, much to his enjoyment, before you tell him, “I suppose it’s adequate.”

But Sun just shakes his head. “Well then, that won’t do!” he exclaims, springing up from his position with more energy than anyone should have this early in the morning. “I’ll have to make you something even better tomorrow! No way am I settling for adequate.” 

You let out a chuckle, slowly backing away towards the exit as he speaks. As much as you don’t want to leave, you’re not very keen on being late to work today.

“If this is your way of getting me to spend my money here,” you tell him, pointing a finger at him as you’re halfway out the door, “then it’s working.” 

You hear Sun laugh behind you as you leave. “See you tomorrow, then, Sunshine!” 

And though you roll your eyes playfully, walking back to your work building, you’re all too aware that he’s absolutely right.

It’s only once you’re sitting at your desk an hour later, drink nearly empty, that you realize you were never asked to pay for it.

“Oh my gosh, Sun, I’m so sorry,” you say in a rush the moment you enter Superstar Coffee the next morning, same time as the previous day. You know you’d already agreed to coming back, but now you felt like you had to. You certainly hadn’t meant to steal the drink!

“Oh dear, not even a good morning?” Sun asks you, standing in the same spot and turning his head to watch you burst through the doors of his coffee shop. “What’re you apologizing for, anyhow?” He doesn’t sound upset, just genuinely curious. Had he not even realized?

“Yesterday,” you explain, stepping up to the counter, “I left without paying. I’m really sorry, I can pay you back for–”

“Oh, nonsense!” Sun interrupts you, voice as joyful as ever as he waves you off. “It was on the house, silly! Don’t worry about it.” 

You blink at him dumbly. “Why would it be on the house?” you ask, baffled. You’d never even been here before yesterday!

“You intrigued me,” Sun says simply, shrugging his metal shoulders. You notice he’s wearing a fuzzy yellow sweater today, seeing as it is pretty chilly outside, underneath his apron. “So, what’re we getting today?” 

Instinctively, your eyes find the specialty drinks again. “What about…” you start, reading through the list of fun names, “a Honeynut Dream?” 

Your gaze falls back down to the animatronic, who’s sun rays are circling around his head. “Oh, yes yes, another favorite, one you’re sure to love! Warm espresso with hazelnut, honey, and a drizzle of caramel.” 

Gosh, that really does sound good. Maybe more of a dessert than a coffee, but who’s actually counting calories? 

“Let’s hope it’s better than adequate this time then,” you say with a lopsided smile. 

“Oh ho ho!” Sun laughs, a strange yet weirdly cute sound that you’re starting to like a lot more than you should for this only being your second time meeting him. “I’m insulted, Sunshine. You have such little faith in me.” 

You snort as you rifle through your pockets, trying to find your wallet. Honestly, you’re glad your work lets you wear hoodies like this, because you don’t think you’d be able to stand the cold of the winter air seeping in through the cracks in the walls of the building without it. 

“Here,” you say once you find it, handing Sun your card. “I’m paying today.”

Sun hesitates for just a moment, but he takes the card from you, swiping it through the register’s scanner. “If you insist,” he says, returning your card before grabbing a cup and a marker once more, looking back up at you. “And am I getting your actual name today, my dear?”

You try to ignore the pet name. “How does Supernova sound?” 

The animatronic raises a metal eyebrow at you. “Like it’s not your name,” he says, though he writes it down anyway. “But I do like that you’re sticking with the theme!”

You don’t say anything more as he then turns his back to you, cup in hand as once again he begins making your coffee with practiced precision. You’re not quite sure what the hell a lot of the machinery back there is for, but Sun navigates through it with ease. Probably because he has to in order to have this job.

Speaking of which…

 “Hey, Sunny,” you say, the nickname slipping out without any thought, though you refrain from backpedaling. The animatronic hums for you to continue, but you don’t miss the spark of joy in his optics from your little slip up. “You really match the theme of this place, too. Is it your shop, or do you just work here?” 

Sun’s smile stretches wider at your question, and he turns back to you while he pours some kind of cream into your drink. He doesn’t even watch as he pours. “I’m so glad you asked!” he cheers, placing the cream back down onto the counter behind him and reaching for a plastic lid from the pile. “My brother and I own this little place together! You’d be surprised how difficult it is for two animatronics to open up a coffee shop on their own, but we’re proud of how it’s turned out!” 

Nodding your head, you have to agree with him there. “This place is pretty amazing,” you admit, letting your eyes wander across the pale yellow walls. “I’m really glad that John told me about it, or else I never would have seen it.” 

“Oh?” the animatronic sounds as he slides your drink across the counter to you. “You’re friends with John?” 

“Yep!” you say, taking the cup into your hands. “You know him?” 

“He’s a regular here,” Sun answers, watching as you pause, not yet trying the coffee. “Well? How’s this one taste?” 

You let out a puff of air before bringing the cup up to your mouth, taking a sip of today’s coffee. Your eyes widen as soon as it hits your tastebuds. You really didn’t think that Sun could top yesterday’s drink, and yet the sweet and creamy bliss of honey and hazelnut mingle on your tongue, and you just have to take an extra gulp despite how hot it still is. Screw burning your tongue, this is definitely the best coffee you’ve ever had.

“Oh my gosh,” you breathe once you pull the drink away from your mouth, staring at it in awe. You hear Sun snicker above you, all too proud of himself.

“I’ll assume that it was better than adequate today, your highness,” he teases, a jointed finger reaching out to boop you lightly on the nose. You startle, eyes follow the movement of his hand retracting back to his side, his sweater sleeve falling over it from being so baggy on his lanky frame. 

Instead of making some kind of retort, a comeback or anything even remotely smooth, you just blink up at him and blurt, “You look really cute in that sweater.” 

You want to bury yourself alive and die as you watch Sun pause. “Oh,” he says, his voice softer than usual. But it only takes him a moment to snap out of his odd stupor before he’s back to his usual energetic self. “Why-- why, thank you! I’ll keep that in mind.” You hate the way your stomach is starting to feel fluttery when he winks at you.

“Okay, well,” you say with a nervous laugh, taking a step backward. “It’s getting late, so I should really, uh–” 

“Something wrong, Sunshine?” Sun interrupts (he has a habit of doing that, doesn’t he?) before you can make your escape with your tail tucked between your legs, and he steps out from behind the counter with an outstretched hand. “If I’m making you uncomfortable or something, I–” 

“No!” you shout, definitely too loud for the proximity. Sun flinches slightly at your volume, which makes you wince, clearing your throat to try again. “Er, no, you’re not– You’re fine, Sunny, don’t worry.”

Sun’s face is unreadable for only another second before a wide grin is breaking out across it again. (That’s a very common occurrence with him, it seems.) It has way too much of a smug air for your liking, and you nearly frown at him as he leans down so he can be more at your level. Gosh, why does he have to be so tall? No one had any business making a nine-foot-nothing animatronic with that damn smile. 

“Good, good,” he says, his faceplate twirling from side to side before eyeing you up and down. That should not make you feel as warm in the face as it does. “I’m glad! Wouldn’t want you to be uncomfy, Sunshine, no no!” 

“Uh, yeah,” you say absentmindedly. It’s way too hot in this damn coffee shop, you’re such a mess. This time, when you start backing away towards the exit, Sun lets you. “Well, thanks for the coffee, Sunny! I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

With a wave, the Sun exclaims, “Have an amazing day, doll! Enjoy!”

You give him a small salute as you open the door, more than grateful for the cool air that hits your skin. “Bye!” you call before slipping outside, wrapping both hands around your coffee cup as you begin your short walk back to work. 

Thankfully, the cold weather is there to cool you off, chilling you in all the most pleasant of ways as silvery ice crunches beneath your feet. Honestly, you really do like the weather this time of year, and the snow is always the prettiest. It makes you glad you chose to live in a city that experiences all four seasons. 

You take another drink of your coffee, letting the warmth seep into your bones. It’s actually really nice compared to the frigid air, and your gaze turns soft as you look at the cup. But you give pause when you see your “name” neatly written out in black marker, a little heart next to it. 

You try to pretend it doesn’t affect you as you walk faster to work, trying (and failing) to speed-walk away from your unrelenting thoughts.

(Some promo art I made for this fic! Moon's coming next chapter, promise <3)

Chapter Text

Honestly, you should have expected John’s absolutely elated reaction to you having actually taken his advice to go to Superstar Coffee. Though he’s not quite as impressed that it took your coffee machine kicking the bucket to get you to try it, he’s still happy. And, bless his heart, he tries to tag along with you for the next time you go, but the second he learns about the fact that you’ve got a graveyard shift today, he dips, laughing something about how he has things like sleeping to do.

Eh, fine by you. You honestly feel like he and Sun would gang up on you anyway. 

It’s past ten at night when you’re out the door, the moon up in the sky, tangoing with the stars. The streetlights and LED signs illuminate the city streets as you make your way to work. Honestly, you’d been pretty surprised to learn that Superstar Coffee was open 24/7, but their website---which you may or may not have stalked---said that you never know when someone will need a pick-me-up at three in the morning, and you really couldn’t argue with that. 

“Hey, Sun!” you call as you enter the coffee shop. “I know it’s pretty late, but--” 

You pause once you look up at the counter, expecting a sunny smile, but you’re instead met with the red gaze of a strange animatronic.

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “You’re not Sun.”

As you walk up to the register, you realize that this animatronic is similar in design to Sun, brandishing the same round faceplate and tall, lanky figure, a crescent moon taking over half of his face, too. But his color theme is full of blues and blacks instead of yellow, and he has an adorable old-timey nightcap situated on the top of his head. 

You distantly remember Sun mentioning that he has a brother.

“Er, hi.” The new animatronic tilts his head at you, watching you closely as you stop before him. “Where’s Sunny?” you ask, giving him a friendly half-smile. He mirrors your expression in response. 

“You don’t think he works here by himself all day and night, do you?” he replies, though there’s mirth in his tone that makes you feel like he isn’t really being cold about it. “No, no, he’s sleeping soundly like someone should be doing.” 

(Silently, you wonder to yourself if by sleeping he means Sun is actually laying down and powered off or if he’s just charging or whatever it is he needs to do.)

“I have work,” you say with a dismissive wave, looking back up at the menu once again. You’re starting to really like experimenting with the different items here rather than getting the same thing every time. 

The animatronic hums as you look, though you aren’t recognizing any of the drinks on the screen. “I swear the menu is different,” you murmur, more to yourself than anything, but it pulls a chuckle from the new barista. 

“You’re viewing the nighttime menu,” he informs you, the soft bell on the end of his hat jingling with each movement he makes. “It’s different than during the day.” Honestly, that explains a lot. “So, what can I get you? Perhaps a nice Moondrop tea?” 

You find the item on the menu rather quickly, a little “zzz” shown next to the drink to indicate that it’s meant to put someone to sleep, not wake them up for a night shift. 

Grimacing, you shake your head at him. “What about something with caffeine?” you ask, starting to understand this animatronic’s whole gimmick. While Sun is out during the day, full of energy and cheer like the ball of fire in the sky he’s fashioned after, this guy is here for the night, trying to get you to go to sleep instead of pulling an all-nighter. A glance at his nametag tells you that the name “Moon” definitely isn’t a coincidence.

Moon’s smile strains as if he isn’t pleased with your answer. You’re spending money at his establishment, what does he care? “How about a Shooting Star Mocha? Lemon, chocolate, and coffee, all required for a late night on the job.” 

Okay, now he’s getting it. 

“Sounds great,” you say with a concealed sigh of relief, pulling out your wallet to pay for the drink. Wordlessly, he inserts your card and punches a few things into the cash register before he’s swiping a cup from the pile and uncapping the marker with his teeth. 

“And your name?” he asks, looking up at you expectantly. On impulse, you almost tell him. Almost. But you remember that, being Sun’s brother, Moon could very well tell him if he asked. And, well, you really don’t want to lose already, it’s kind of fun having a little secret like this. 

At least, that’s the excuse you make for yourself before you say, “Saturn.” 

Moon blinks, pausing for a second, but only a second, before realization spreads across his face. “Ohh, so you’re the lovely little thing that Sun told me about,” he says, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit at you. “You’re playing this game with me, too, then?”

“Why not?” you say, watching with amusement as he writes down your new name on the cup before getting to work preparing this drink. “Maybe you’ll even figure it out before Sunny does.”

Moon works slower than Sun does but with the same proficiency. Where Sun zips around the counters and twirls between the machines, Moon takes long, quick steps and precise movements. Honestly, it’s enthralling to watch him. He’s clearly in his element. 

“So it’s a competition now?” he replies over his shoulder as he pours a small amount of something from a yellow-labeled bottle into the contents of a metal cup, stirring before he places it back into one of those other machines that you honestly don’t know the function of. 

“Do you want it to be?” 

The question lingers in the air as Moon continues finishing up your coffee, and you begin to wonder if he didn’t hear you over the sound of the machine before he’s letting out a low rumble of a laugh, popping a lid on top of your cup. 

“I’ll have to warn you, Starlight,” he tells you as he approaches the counter again, placing down your freshly-made drink with a flick of his wrist, “I’m quite the competitive type.” 

There’s a challenging look in his eyes as you take the drink, lifting it up to your mouth. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you say, your lips quirking up just the slightest bit. Are you flirting with this robot now, too? You’re pretty sure, though you’re fairly disappointed with yourself when you find you have absolutely no shame for it, either. 

Deciding that these robots might be more trouble than they’re worth (though that’s a boldfaced lie on your part), you busy yourself with taking a long sip of your drink---only to immediately spit it back out. 

You swear Moon is giggling like a child as you send him a glare. “You little– This is decaf! You think I wouldn’t be able to taste the difference?” you ask more angrily than you actually are. If anything, you just want your caffeine. It’s too early—or, well, late—for this BS. 

“You need a better sleep schedule,” Moon tells you simply, spinning his head in a full circle. 

You cross your arms, slightly weirded out by the action and trying to brush it off. “What I need is actual caffeine.” 

“Your eyebags disagree.”

“Moon, I swear,” you start, exasperated, “I’m gonna tell Sun that you’re purposely messing up my order.” 

The animatronic’s grin is wolfish. “You sound like a Karen.” But he turns around anyway, going back to those coffee machines to start making your drink again---this time with actual caffeine, you sincerely hope. “Not like he could do anything, anyway,” Moon continues, turning his still-grin face back to meet your eye. “I have just as much authority as he does.” 

So you were right about this being Sun’s brother. 

“You don’t think he’d still chew you out?” you question him, watching those precise movements again. 

“Oh, he absolutely would,” Moon replies, not taking his eyes off of his task, “But it’d be completely worth it to see that look on your face.”

Ah. So both of the robots like to torment you. Wonderful, just what you needed, you couldn’t be more excited. (How much of that is sarcasm and how much is actually true, you have no clue.)

You give a pout, going to say something more, when Moon cuts you off with a laugh. “There it is,” he muses, stepping back up to the counter and placing down your drink in front of you, “Adorable.” 

Yeah, there’s no doubt in your mind now: the robot is, as a matter of fact, flirting with you.

You try to retort, you really do, but all that escapes you in a huff, and you busy yourself with snatching up the drink. Really, you curse yourself for ordering something hot, seeing how sweltering it is now in this little coffee shop, but you ignore the prickly heat clinging to your skin and take a long swig of your coffee.

The embarrassment immediately fades away with the flavor, chocolatey goodness across your tongue with that zing of lemon. It disappears down your throat with the bitterness of coffee being chased away by sugary sweetness and leaving you craving more. 

Who the hell built these animatronics? Because you know they deserve a raise, these drinks just keep getting more and more delicious.

When your eyes land on the animatronic, just like Sun, he knows he did good, and damn it, you really can’t deny it. Even if he clearly doesn’t need the ego boost, you still end up saying, “See? Look how much better it is when you get my order right.” 

“Still a Karen,” Moon replies with a sigh, though he doesn’t seem all that annoyed. His mood hasn’t been dampened in the slightest. “So, how is it? Better than Sun’s?” 

You blink at him for a moment before a grin slowly stretches across your face. “You really are competitive, aren’t you?” you retort, not giving him the satisfaction of telling him what he wants. “It’s not better, but it’s not worse either,” you admit after a moment. 

While Moon deflates the slightest bit, he still upholds a kind of cocky air to him, waving it off. “Well, I’ll be winning in no time,” he boasts, grin sharp as his gaze lingers on you. You’re about to ask him why he’s staring when he cuts you off with a raised metal eyebrow. “Don’t you have places to be?”

“Oh, shit,” you hiss through your teeth, much to the animatronic’s amusement, gripping your coffee harshly as you make for the door. “Thanks, Moonie. I’ll see you later!”

“Anything for you,” he says softly, not in his teasing tone anymore. “Go on, then, I would hate for you to be late on my watch.” 

But just as you’re almost out onto the street again, Moon calls out after you. “By the way, come back here after your shift. I’ll make you some tea to help you sleep better tonight. On the house, Starlight. You need to get some real rest.” The way his optics bore into you makes this sound less like a suggestion and more like a demand, but you send him a thumbs up and rush out the door anyhow.

Besides, who are you to refuse more free drinks?

The world is still engulfed in darkness when you exit work after your shift, the frigid air freezing you to your core. Honestly, that hot tea sounds really good right about now. And maybe it’s a little embarrassing that a barista you barely know can already tell you’re quite lacking in the sleep department, but you’re really taking a liking to him, and a large part of you doesn’t care. 

There are more cars rushing down the street than you’d expect at five in the morning, whizzing by and blowing hair into your face time after time again, the chill of the wind they kick up not helping the shivers wracking your body. You pick up the pace, quickening your steps until you’ve reached the corner, ducking inside Superstar Coffee with a huff of relief and reveling in the warmth radiating from the heaters. 

“There you are,” you hear, turning to see the celestial animatronic at his usual place behind the counter. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” 

“And refuse a free drink?” you counter as you step up to him. “Never.” 

Long fingers rap against the granite below them, Moon shifting his head to the side and jingling the little bell on his nightcap. “What if that was just a ploy to get you to come back here?” he asks, red eyes staring intently at you. 

You try not to let them intimidate you. “Then you’d be no friend of mine,” you declare with a cross of your arms, pointing your nose up at him. 

But Moon’s only response is to snicker at you. “Fine with me,” he says, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders. “We can skip to the good part.”

You are not expecting that. “I-I just met you today!” you reply a bit too loudly, cursing yourself for the sputter. 

“And?” 

Cradling your warm face in your hands, you quickly change the subject. “Aren’t you supposed to be making me tea?” you ask him incredulously, making a little ‘shoo’ gesture at him. With a snicker that you’re pretty sure means he knows exactly what you’re doing, he slinks back into the kitchen behind him. 

“So, Starlight, tell me,” he says as the machinery whirs to life once again, a seeming constant as of recently. You hum, leaning against the display case full of pastries and other treats that you’d never really been interested in (though you’re careful not to smudge the glass), watching Moon. “How much sleep have you been getting?” 

You let out a small scoff. “What are you, my doctor?” you question, though you know being defensive will only tell him what is already very obvious in the dark circles beneath your eyes. 

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Moon tuts, deft hands stirring the tea slowly as it steeps. 

Through another pout, you murmur, “I get enough.” 

An accusatory eyebrow is raised at you. “You rely on caffeine to get through the day,” he deadpans, optics narrowing. 

“Who doesn’t? Besides, don’t you guys, like, profit off of that?” you ask, pointing at him as he pours scalding tea into a cup, popping a lid on top. 

You don’t expect him to let out the loudest, most dramatic gasp you’ve ever heard, slapping his unoccupied hand against his chassis where his heart would be if he had one. “I’m offended, Starlight,” he croons in mock betrayal. “People come to us for the taste. If they just wanted caffeine, any old coffee would suffice.” 

Well, you suppose that is kind of true. Though it’s not just for the taste (or the caffeine) that you keep coming back here. 

But you are starting to learn that past his more nonchalant demeanor, Moon is just as much of a dork as Sun is. Or at least, that’s how it’s looking. You suppose they are brothers, it would make sense. They’re from the same…code? Wires? Mechanisms? Honestly, you’re not sure what the robot equivalent is that you’re looking for here. What even constitutes robots as being brothers? (Yeah, you’re thinking too much about this right now.) 

“Hey, I wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t have caffeine,” you remind him.

Moon’s expression turns to another deadpan. “You’re here for tea right now, sweetheart, because you need to sleep. ” 

You nearly sputter again at that, not having expected the pet name from him. (Though that’s another thing to add to the ever-growing list of similarities between him and Sun. They both like to call you pet names along with their usual nicknames. Grand.) 

“Only because it’s free,” you grumble, already knowing that excuse is definitely not the real reason but too stubborn to admit it, especially to Moon. He seems like the kind of guy who would tease you relentlessly about it. 

“You keep telling yourself that,” Moon says around a chuckle. He nudges your drink forward with a robotic hand. “Now, drink up.” 

Despite the roll of your eyes, you pluck the warm cup up off of the counter, wondering just how many times this is going to happen, a way-too-smug robot staring intently as you raise one of their specially crafted beverages to your lips. 

The moment this tea hits your tongue, you’re overwhelmed by a strong burst of vanilla and green tea, steeped perfectly so as not to incorporate any of that leftover bitterness from the leaves. A delicious blueberry flavor quickly washes over your tastebuds, chasing after the sweet vanilla and making your eyes flutter shut, just briefly, at the incredible flavor. It’s so good. This is, by far, the best tea you’ve ever tasted. 

“I feel like,” you say as you bring the cup down after another long, self-indulgent gulp, “you’re trying too hard to beat Sunny, now.” 

Moon hums non-committedly, resting the bottom of his faceplate in his palm and leaning over the display case. “Are you complaining?” he asks, much more lighthearted than he had been early. Honestly, you’re well aware of your less-than-stellar sleep schedule, you do not need some goofy-ass animatronic lecturing you about it, too. 

But, you have to admit, you really can’t complain about the tea. Moon—nay, this entire coffee shop—has just completely outdone itself. How on earth are they only a little local thing? You’d have expected this kind of deliciousness to have spread at least nationwide by now. 

“Nope,” you end up replying, popping the ‘p’ before taking another long sip. “But…it’s still a tie, Moonie.”

He grumbles something about favoritism as he presses his weight into the display case, long robot fingers not leaving a smudge against it. Honestly, you’re kind of jealous. You’d kill to not have to clean all the icky grease and grime off of your phone. Er, do they even have phones? Or need them? Is that kind of stuff built in? 

There are so many questions that you have right now, but you shove them down in favor of being polite and bury your face into the tea until at least a quarter of it is gone. 

“Y’know,” Moon says once you finish, his head still propped up on top of the glass overtop his hands, “Sunny told me you called him cute the other day.”

Your eyes widen. “He remembered that?” you blurt before you can control yourself, immediately balking at the proclamation. “I really didn’t mean to say that. I mean, I meant it, he did look really cute. But I didn’t mean it in a– a creepy way or anything! It was just a little big on him, and I’ve always thought he– er, sweaters were cute, and, uh…”

A little belatedly, you trail off, though you’ve already done enough damage. You stop so as to not dig your grave even further, but by the sound of Moon’s snickering…

“Oh? I didn’t know you were so fond of Sunny, Starlight.”

…you’re not getting out of this one. 

“I-I’m not–” you try to say quickly, not that he’ll believe you after all of that, but Moon luckily (or unluckily?) cuts you off.

“But I’m certain he feels the same,” he continues, sending you reeling. You’re never going to get a break with these two. “He was very excited about it, I can’t wait to tell him about this conversation.”

You run a hand down your face, trying to hide it in your embarrassment. “Please forget I said anything,” you plead. The animatronic just laughs.

“Not to worry, Starlight. He thought you’d look cute in his sweater, too. And really, I have to agree. I’m sure you’d be adorable,” he muses, not giving you a moment of rest. Your grip on your cup stiffens much more than it should at the thought of wearing Sun’s sweater. 

And what is it with these robots calling you cute?!

Either you're an idiot or he’s being very obvious about a lot, but you still just have to ask. Gnawing on your lip, you raise an eyebrow at him and attempt to seem as unbothered as possible. “Are you trying to flirt with me, Moon?” you say bluntly, not really knowing what answer you’d prefer to hear. Either would be embarrassing.

But Moon, of course, isn’t very helpful. “Depends,” he drawls, eyes shining at you with mirth. “Is it working?”

Ah. So that’s definitely a yes.

“Depends,” you retort in a mocking tone, doing your damndest not to let the embarrassment get to you. “Do you want it to be?” 

You’re expecting some kind of witty comeback from him, much like he’s done before, but you’re instead answered with silence on his end, his faceplate frozen in place while his fingers drum against the counter. You bury your face in your tea, gulping it down quickly until it’s nearly gone. 

It takes another moment for Moon to seem to pull himself out of his stupor, the whirring of his innards increasing in pitch. He gives a noncommittal hum to your question much too late, followed by a murmured, “Maybe.” It’s so quiet you strain to catch it, and even then, you begin to think that you may have misheard him. 

But he provides no proof either way, breezing past it as if nothing happened. “Starlight,” he says as he watches you finish your tea, slipping his apron up off of his figure and folding it neatly before it’s placed on the counter, “Come with me. There’s a couch in the back that I’m sure you’d much rather sit on.” 

Long strides make it quick and easy for him to turn the sign on the door around from “open” to “closed,” something you are only given a moment to ponder before he’s at your side. Carefully, his arm slips down and he places his hand into the small of your back, ushering you behind the counter to him and through the “employees only” door. 

The first room you’re led through is clearly meant for storage, opened and unopened boxes alike stacked around the room into neat piles, holding anything a little coffee shop like this would need. Moon doesn’t stop to let you look around at all (not that there’s much of anything to look at), and brings you into the next room attached to the storage. He pulls back the curtain covering it from the outside world and allows you to step inside. 

This room is much more interesting. Not quite as fun as the storefront and lacking in the celestial-themed decor, but still nice and cozy. It’s clearly a break room, with that sofa the animatronic promised situated beside a little coffee table and a mini fridge. The corner holds a mountain of blankets, pillows, and plushies, and when Moon catches you staring at it, he lets out a soft sigh. 

“Sun insisted upon adding all of those in here,” he answers your silent question, though there’s the smallest smile of amusement on his face when you crane your neck up to look at him. “Said they were somehow comfier. Though it means I get the couch to myself, so I’m not complaining.” 

You let out a soft snort, immediately stepping over to the pile. Yeah, you’re definitely not surprised that these are all Moon’s brother’s. The brightly colored blankets and adorable plushies just scream Sun, and you can’t resist leaning down and scooping up the cutest little lion off of the top of the pile. His mane reminds you of Sun’s rays, and you give the little plushie a pat on its head before taking it with you over to the couch where Moon stands. He raises an eyebrow at you but otherwise says nothing on the matter.

You step past him, pretending to not notice, and flop down rather gracelessly onto the couch, the soft cushions bouncing you before settling with your weight as you hug the plush close. You slide over so Moon has room to sit as you tuck your legs up beneath you. 

Honestly, you’re surprising yourself with your decisions. Typically, you wouldn’t be allowing yourself this kind of vulnerability around someone you’ve only met not even twenty-four hours ago. But it feels right, like you can trust him. It’s so easy to just relax as he takes a seat beside you, not so close as to invade your personal space but still close enough to not come off as cold. You’re completely comfortable in his presence, something that really doesn’t happen often for you. 

You have a bit of a feeling that he knows it, too.

Actually, maybe you’re a little too comfortable, because the moment he’s sitting there next to you, you reach over and—completely on impulse, not a thought behind it at all—snatch that adorable nightcap from off the top of his head. Honestly, you’re surprised he doesn’t manage to swipe it out of your hands before it sits on your head now. 

You smile like you’ve been crowned king and, just because you can, stick your tongue out at him rather childishly. 

Moon, of course, stretches out to try and get it back again. But you’re quicker, jumping up before he can reach you. Instead, his attempts are fruitless and leave him sprawled rather unceremoniously across the sofa cushions, face pressed into the little lion, and you let out a mocking laugh at him as grumbles. 

You open your mouth to poke more at his pride, but only a choked yawn escapes. Gosh, when did you get so tired? 

From the look in Moon’s eyes, he can immediately tell. Uh oh. You can already sense what’s coming, but the sudden heaviness you’re hit with leaves you helpless. (What the hell was in that tea?)

Though you try to escape, seeing his reaching hand coming from a mile away, your damn slowed reflexes mixed with the drowsiness of the tea makes escape impossible as he wraps his arms around your waist and yanks you back onto the couch with him. 

It is not a big couch and Moon is by no means a small animatronic. So now that he suddenly seems to have no qualms whatsoever about invading your space, you find yourself nearly on top of him, your weight pressed against his chassis. Which is certainly not an accident, judging by the firm arms still wrapped around you and the smug smile on Moon’s faceplate. 

You’re engulfed in flames from the contact. For a robot, he’s warm. Like, as warm as another human. You’d expect for him to be cool to the touch, being made from metal and all. But the silicone and whatever else he’s made of is, admittedly, very pleasant, and you have to stop yourself from snuggling into him because that would just be weird, wouldn’t it? (Like laying on top of someone you practically just met isn’t weird.)

But even for as alert as you are, heart pounding in your ribcage, there’s still a heaviness that weighs down your eyelids. Blinking becomes a rather difficult task, as does propping yourself up on your elbows so you can still look at Moon. It takes your tired mind a moment to realize he’s been staring at you, studying your reaction this whole time. Which is just wonderful for you, isn’t it?

“Uh,” you say eloquently, exhausted and awkward as all hell, “Come here often?” 

Moon blinks at you slowly, his smile twitching. But you can feel the mechanisms inside him beneath you churning more quickly, and he lets out a low chuckle that rumbles through his circuits and shakes you ever so slightly. 

“More or less,” he replies, grinning at you from an angle. It takes you another moment to recognize, from the obvious lack of nightcap on top of his head, that you’re still wearing his favorite garment. 

Though that isn’t what catches your attention. “You’re bald,” you state rather bluntly around a snort. Moon, as expected, is not at all impressed. You feel his hand leave you for a moment, snatching his hat back with a halfhearted glare to you. You just giggle. “Aww, is big Moonie insecure about–?” 

You don’t get the rest of the sentence out. As soon as his cap is in its rightful place, Moon, the asshole, swipes his hand at the arms holding you up. You don’t have the strength to stop him, accepting your fate as you fall back into his chest, your cheek squished right against him.

“Go to sleep, Starlight,” Moon urges you in a quiet voice, long fingers slowly beginning to run through your hair. And you really really can’t deny how nice it all feels. He’s still so warm, and it’s becoming increasingly harder to keep your eyes open, so you surrender. You hear Moon hum in satisfaction as he watches your eyes drift shut, finally listening to him. 

But, before you slip into unconsciousness, you can’t help one little joke. “Heh,” you start, voice muffled and slurred as sleep is already halfway through taking you, “Looks like I, I fell for…you…”

You’re already asleep by the time Moon processes your words.

Chapter Text

Rays of warm sunlight are shining in through the crack in the window curtains as you slowly awaken. You let out a long yawn, stretching out to wake the tiredness in your bones. As you do, your shirt rides up (the same one you wore yesterday that you fell asleep in, your mind reminds you with a grimace), and the couch scratches against your back. You flinch, pulling away from the uncomfortable feeling. 

The couch that seemed so comfy last night is actually rather firm, not as much give to it as you had thought it had in the low lighting of the earling morning, and it’s made of that scratchy material that has you fighting against the blanket you’re cocooned in so you can get away. 

And that’s another thing: you’re certain you didn’t have a blanket when you fell asleep. 

A smile warms your face as you think that it must be Moon’s doing. But the thought of Moon brings a new question: where the hell is he? You distinctly remember falling asleep on top of him. Or, at least, you’re pretty certain. Hopefully it wasn’t some sleep deprived dream your whipped mind came up with while you slept. That would be embarrassing. 

Either way, you didn’t mean to fall asleep here. You silently wonder how long you were asleep for while you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eye. You’re…definitely gonna need some more coffee, now. You’ll admit, you feel much more refreshed than when you typically wake up (probably the tea’s doing), but there ain’t no rest for a wicked caffeine addiction. 

A sudden rapping stills you before you’re able to get off of the couch. “Knock knock!” you hear Sun call from behind the curtain in the doorframe, a golden ray peeking through. 

It pulls a smile from you. “Come on in, Sunny.” 

In an instant, Sun is pulling back the curtain and walking inside, crouching down beside the sofa so he isn’t completely towering over you. His grin lights up the room just like his bright namesake in the sky.

“Goooood morning, Sunshine!” he greets, his face spinning in a full circle before warm eyes land on you. “Er, well, afternoon, now. Not that it matters! Did you sleep well? I heard you wake up back here and came to check on ya! Put up the ‘back in fifteen’ sign and everything. Moon filled me in on what happened last night, you poor thing. You must’ve been exhausted, huh? It’s great Moonie took care of you! How’re you feeling, anyhow? Usually the tea wears off before you wake up, but you can go back to bed if you’re still sleepy, I don’t mind. It’s some pretty strong stuff.”

For as much as you love hearing Sun’s voice, you’re pretty sure your half-asleep mind barely processes half of what he says. 

“Sun, you’re rambling,” you tell him as gently as you can with your voice still rough from sleep. Ugh, you really need some water. Or coffee. You let his words sink in for another moment and add, “And I’m up, I’m up.” 

Sun doesn’t seem the slightest bit bothered. “Oops, am I?” he asks with a chuckle, still as joyful as ever. “My bad, Sunshine! We’ve just never had such a cutie sleep over before! …Or anyone, for that matter, but that’s beside the point.”

Yeah, okay, okay, these robots think you’re cute, that’s nothing new, at this point. Can you please stop letting it get to you?

You decide to change the subject because as nice as this is, you know you can’t linger too long. “Ugh…” you groan at the idea of having to go back to work again so soon. Not for the first time, you curse yourself for not setting firmer boundaries with your boss for your hours. “What time is it?” 

“Hmm?” Sun hums. “Oh! It’s 1:37 o’clock, but don’t worry! We checked your schedule while you were asleep, and you don’t have work for another two hours and 23 minutes.” You’re beginning to think he has some kind of mind-reading powers. What was it he said about hearing you wake up from all the way at the front? Robots can do pretty much anything nowadays, it really isn’t something that should be surprising. 

While you contemplate just how close the world is to an armageddon caused by robots, Sun straightens out his apron and waits for you to get up. You notice he has another sweater on today—which definitely isn’t a coincidence. This one is a pretty shade of pastel purple, contrasting the yellows on his faceplate. It’s still an adorable sight. 

You blame Sun for distracting you with his cuteness again when you blurt, “It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.” You immediately internally groan.

Seriously, where does your filter go when you’re with these two? You’re still waking up, that must be it. Yep. Uh huh. Absolutely, that is why. 

As you drown in the embarrassment of your mistakes, you think you hear Sun murmur something along the lines of, “Moon was not kidding,” before he lets out a louder laugh, pulling away from you to stand up. “Well, aren’t you glad ol’ Sunny was here to wake ya up then, Sunshine?” he asks with a twirl of his sun rays, hands on his hips as you swing your legs over the edge of the couch, pushing away the blanket so you can be back on your feet next to him. 

“Sure,” you mumble to yourself as he leads you out of the employees-only area and back into the front of the store. This is just a wonderful start to your day. At least it can’t get any worse, now. (Oh, poor, sweet, innocent past you. It absolutely can.)

Though to your surprise, Sun doesn’t get the sign on the door to allow the customers to return. Instead, he walks around behind the counter where you’re pretty sure he lives at this point, leaning over it and staring at you expectantly.

“So,” he says with another spin of the rays around his head, “What am I getting for you today, darling?” 

(Another pet name?)

You let out a half-hearted sigh at the display. “Please don’t tell me it’s another one that’s--”

“On the house, of course!” Sun interrupts you gleefully, confirming your suspicions. “Wouldn’t have it any other way for our favorite customer!” 

Though you roll your eyes, there’s a certain amount of fondness in it that you breeze right past in favor of choosing something from the vast expanse of delicious drinks on the screen above. But nothing is really jumping out at you today, it all sounds amazing. How are you meant to choose?

So, you leave the decision up to fate. “Surprise me.” 

You swear Sun smiles wider at that. “And can I get a name for that, Sunshine?” he asks you, voice chipper but eyebrows lowered at you expectedly as he grabs your cup and a marker. Yeah, like it’s going to be that easy for him. (Honestly, you know he doesn’t want you to make it that easy, anyway. Half of the fun is dancing around it. At least, he seems to enjoy it, as far as you can tell.) 

You beam just as big as he does as you tell him, “Sunny.” 

Sun actually gasps in surprise, his optics wide before they narrow at you. “Wh– Hey, that’s my name! You can’t steal my name, that’s cheating!” he cries, his face scrunching up into a beautiful pout. You try to hide your snickers in the palm of your hand, but by how his face hardens, you’re failing. “Not fair!” 

Grinning against your hand, you back off. As fun as it would be to tease him, you don’t want him taking away your free coffee rights. “Alright, alright,” you cave, watching his face slowly soften. “Sunshine, then?” 

That makes his visage instantly brighten, rays spinning wildly around his head as he quickly scribbles it down. “Oh ho ho! You’re right, that is your name! Well, not your real one---that one would be preferable---but still! I’d think a nickname counts,” he decides, turning on his heel with a flourish to begin making your “surprise” coffee. You’re trusting him to make something you’ll like. Your morning (afternoon now, technically) caffeine is on the line here, after all.

“You know you’ll have to try harder than that,” you taunt, leaning your weight against the counter and kicking your legs while you wait. Honestly, you’re really beginning to like this place. 

Sun hums over the noise of milk being frothed, his hips swinging side to side to the tuneless melody. “A win’s a win, no matter the tactic,” he replies after a moment, swirling the milk in a metal cup before pouring something else into it—espresso, perhaps?

“So you condone cheating?” 

The scoff he lets out has you stifling a snicker as faux offended eyes meet yours. “I cannot believe you would think I’d stoop so low,” he says, a hand pressed against his heart, ever the drama king. “Moon? Absolutely, he would. But me? I hardly think trying to catch you slipping up can be considered cheating. Now, looking into the customer database, that would be cheating.” 

That makes you give pause. “I didn’t know you could do that,” you admit lamely, eyebrows drawn. “I hope you didn’t. It’s more fun this way.” 

The animatronic’s beam is wide, winking at you while he pours the drink into the cup with your nickname written on it, not needing to watch what he’s doing. “I absolutely agree, my dear! I would never do such a thing. Ruin’s the joy of figuring it out myself.” 

“Or finding out from Moon.” You can’t help the little tease, relishing in the way Sun’s rays do a slow, agitated half-circle before he lets out another huff. 

“Like I’d lose to that rulebreaker!” he exclaims, placing down your freshly made drink in front of you with a little more force than needed. He winces, calming himself. “Well, not that he’s done anything yet. Yet. I do not put it past him.” 

The brush of your fingers against his as you grab the coffee cup is more deliberate, and you don’t miss the smallest flinch from him and your knuckles graze his. He lets out an awkward laugh, taking back his hand before you can be any bolder, fidgeting with the hem of his apron. 

“And what’s this?” you ask him, inspecting the cup in your grasp. 

Sun jumps at the chance to explain. “Well! Here we have a delicious maple cinnamon cappuccino, a very special recipe! Both Moon and I know how to make it—though I’m sure mine is much better,” he declares, puffing out his chest proudly. It makes you snort into the cup as you bring it to your lips. 

And, oh, if it isn’t heaven on earth. Sweet cinnamon delight, that syrupy telltale taste of maple complementing the bitter espresso beautifully. The craftsmanship of these drinks has you at a loss for words, more often than not. How do they achieve such delicacies? 

 You’re very much being spoiled by these two, you’re not afraid to admit that. You’re also not afraid to admit that you could get hooked on this. (And not just the coffee.)

You can’t help the small “Mmm” that slips past your lips at the flavor as you pull the cup away from your mouth. Sun seems more than pleased at the fact, hands on his waist and bending at the hips with a smile that borders on smug. 

“Another winner?” he asks with a twirl of the rays around his head. The comment has you rolling your eyes, though there’s more fondness in that small gesture than there should be. You hide it behind another drink of your coffee. 

“Still tied,” you singsong, much to Sun’s very visible displeasure. Though his clear reaction, with the way his shoulders slump and he gives a great big pout, make you pause. “Hey, what’s with you two wanting to make the better drink, anyway?” 

Sun’s boundless energy is immediately back, full swing, and he literally jumps at the opportunity to tell you, “Well, I’m sure you’ve heard that the way into someone’s heart is through their stomach!”

You press your lips together. “I– I have,” you say hesitantly, eyeing the robot quite warily. “And that’s important, why?”

Grinning even broader, Sun shakes his head from side to side, making a quiet tutting noise. “Silly, I just told you!” he says, bright optics burning with mirth. “Golly, don’t you even know the language of love?”

There are a million things you could say to that, to the extremely obvious flirting happening, but your dumb, awkward ass says the first thing that comes to mind: “Sorry, I chose Spanish in school.”

Honestly, the loud, full laugh that escapes from Sun’s voicebox shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does. And it’s not the usual, mild laugh he’d given before, or even that Santa-escue one; no, this sounds completely genuine, even human, if not for the faint crackles of static just barely lacing his voice. You jump as he basically curls in on himself (it really wasn’t that funny), and you’d worry he’d be crying if he wasn’t made of robotic parts. 

“Oh, oh, Sunshine!” he wheezes, doing his best to straighten himself. “Well then, hah, why not woo me with these wonderful highschool Spanish skills?” 

Your mind blanks on any and all Spanish you might know, and you have to scrape together the wet mush of your mind to even gather enough brain cells to create a sentence. 

“Uh,” you murmur ever so eloquently before saying in your best attempt at wooing a robot with your highschool Spanish skills, “Tu son muy guapo, Señor Sol.” 

The cheer Sun lets out is childish at best, his hands clapping together as if you’ve just performed a wondrous feat. “Muy bien!” he cries, spinning on his heel with a flourish for dramatic effect. “And thank you! I try to look my best.” 

You tilt your head. “You understood?” you ask, though you shouldn’t be surprised about that in the slightest. 

Sun nods his head excitedly. “You bet!” he exclaims while you take another sip of your drink. “We’re fluent in over fifteen-hundred world languages, including Spanish.”

“Huh,” you find yourself murmuring, not quite knowing what else to say. “The more you know.”

“Indeed!” Sun agrees, as chipper as ever and not seeming to understand the effect his words have begun to have on you in the slightest. Or, at least, if he has, he seems to keep that under wraps. “I would offer to give you a lesson, but I believe it’s best if we save that for another day.” 

You try to mask your disappointment at his words, though you’re certain you fail horribly, based upon the way Sun snickers at you as you ask with more chagrin than intended, “Why not? I’ve got a while until work.”

“Sunshine,” the animatronic starts, his voice laced with something not too different from pity. “As right as you would be for assuming that you are the most important thing happening today,” he points back at the glass door of the entrance, with the sign still flipped to ‘back in fifteen’, “that doesn’t mean I can neglect my very very important barista duties all day. I have other—albeit more boring—things I must do.” 

There’s no denying the way your shoulders slump at that, as if you’re a child who was just told they weren’t allowed to have their favorite snack. “Yeah, alright, fair enough,” you tell him, trying not to be too upset over it. After all, the fact that he said you are the most important thing happening to him today is not lost on you at all.

“Wonderful! I’m glad you understand!” Sun says almost with replief, stepping around the counter and across the short distance between you and the door, his hand resting on the handle while taking off the sigh and changing it to read ‘Open!’ instead. 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asks, mouth twisted up into his usual smile as he gazes down at you once you’ve rushed over to stand beside him. You like to think that he’s asking because he’s hoping to see you tomorrow, not that he’s hoping to get one up on his brother and have another chance at unearthing your little mystery.

“Depends,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly before looking up to meet his gaze. “Will the coffee still be free?” 

The little snort that Sun makes in response is decidedly charming, maybe even more so than how his rays spin in quick rotations around his head. “You, my dear, are impossible,” he says with a roll of his optics before twisting the handle and holding open the door for you. 

“And yet you’re still such a gentleman for someone so seemingly impossible,” you note as you begin to take your leave, stepping out into the cold city and turning to grin back at him. 

“Well, what else would I be besides a gentleman to my dearest favorite customer?” he practically purrs back with a little wave as you begin to walk away, still calling after you. “Besides, how else would I manage to keep you coming back?”

You laugh out a goodbye before you begin your trek down the street back to your home, the only thought filling your mind being how it’s much more than simply these animatronics’ manners that are making you so attached.

Chapter Text

You find yourself in quite the predicament rather quickly. A week goes by in a blur, seemingly all of your time before and after shifts being used up by two very interesting baristas. Two baristas which are starting to infect your waking thoughts more than the average barista should. 

It doesn’t help that they seem to have taken notice of this little tidbit, too. Or, at the very least, find it immensely amusing to torture you about it. 

That, and your wonderful friend John is also painfully aware of the fact. 

“I’m telling you,” he says to you one afternoon during your break, pointing a finger at you as he takes a long sip of his very bland and gross k-cup coffee. (Yikes, Sun and Moon have really been spoiling your flavor pallet, huh?) “You need to just man-up and tell them.” 

You gnaw on your lip, your hand tensing around the cup of lukewarm coffee Moon made you when you stopped by around six. (Peppermint and lavender, a flavor combination that you didn’t think would work together but has once again proven you wrong.) 

“I don’t know,” you admit, flicking your gaze left and right to make sure no one else is in the break lounge with you. “I mean, c’mon, they’re robots. I know they’re sentient and all, but are they really capable of, y’know, romantic interest?” 

The deadpan John levels you with should be enough of an answer, but he still adds, “They’ve been flirting with you for two weeks.” 

“One and a half weeks,” you correct while trying not to think back to all the winks and quips that have made you weak in the knees. “And we don’t know that for sure, they could just–”

“Trust me, they’re not just being nice,” John interrupts before you can go on a denial tangent. “Hell, every time I’ve been in the shop this week they’ve said something about you. Both of them! Pretty sure they’re just as whipped as you are.” 

Ah. They talk about you to other people? That…shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is to you. What even is there for them to talk about?

You must have a pretty silly look on your face, because John heaves a sigh and places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Look, I’m not forcing you, but I really think you should try. You might be pleasantly surprised.” 

The half-grimace, half-smile that conforms onto your face probably gives away everything you’re thinking, but the butterflies in your stomach are relentless as you tell him, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

—

You cannot believe you’re doing this. Like, really, you’re shocked that you had the balls to wake up this morning, before the crack of dawn (curse your job), and say, “Yep, today’s the day, let’s get this show on the road.”

Standing outside the door of Superstar Coffee, those nerves of steel from not fifteen minutes have melted into a pool of molten metal in the pit of your stomach. So much for your big burst of confidence. 

You consider chickening out. Really, you do, and you’re not proud of it. It isn’t too late, you haven’t been seen yet. The sun is just rising off in the distance, painting the street with bright rays of ochre and orange, what could be a beautiful backdrop for you turning with your tail between your legs and fleeing. But John’s stupidly optimistic words ring in your head: “You might be pleasantly surprised.” 

Does he know something you don’t? Surely not. But then, there’s still that chance. The worst they can say is no, and while that thought isn’t something nice to think about, you know that nothing will really change. 

You can’t say you’re confident, but you muster up just enough willpower to stand tall and open up the door to the coffee shop before you can change your mind. 

What you don’t expect—though, really, you should have—is not one but two heads turning at the sound of the bell chiming, both standing in front of the counter together instead of behind it like you’re so used to. 

Oh. Oh, oh shit. You didn’t– You didn’t expect them both to be here! You thought you would be able to do this one at a time, but now seeing two curious pairs of optics land on your very awkward stance, you realize just how in over your head you actually are. 

Deep breaths. You’ve got this. 

Two voices ring out in tandem, an excited, “Sunshine!” at the same time as a more subdued, “Starlight.” 

The chuckle and wave you give them is nervous at best as you step farther into the shop, glancing between the two (very tall) bots. “Hey, Sunny, hi, Moonie. I, uh, didn’t expect to see both of you here today.” 

Sun’s grin is as bright as always as he leans down to be more at your level, quickly followed by his brother. “Well, we didn’t expect to see you here either. We were switching, my shift just ended.”

Moon, because these two clearly have the goal of killing you, adds, “We were just talking about you, you know.” 

“Really? That’s– Great. That’s great. Wonderful,” you sputter, your stomach doing some bullshit flexibility test to see how far it can twist and turn on itself without you throwing up. Why do you have to be this nervous?

“Oh, yes, we were!” Sun chimes happily, either unaware of your inner floundering or all too amused by it. (You’re betting on the latter.) “Seems you’ve been very adamant about keeping your name from both of us, now, hm?”

You give them an apologetic shrug, something that doesn’t seem to satisfy either. “It’s a pity, really. I’d hoped to have won by now,” Moon laments, pretending to be casual when you know he is anything but.  

And, like you’d expect, really, he’s managed to ruffle Sunny’s feathers, too. “Like they’d share their name with you first,” he retorts with a thin smile, his eyes lowered. Ah, seems he’s a bit more miffed about this than you’d imagine he should be. 

“I like to think I’m the favorite.”

Sun only huffs, his expression wavering. “As if! I met Sunshine first, therefore I’m clearly their favorite.”

Oh gosh, they’re fighting over you. You are so normal about this. Uh huh. Yep. Definitely. 

You think that Moon is a little too happy about getting under Sun’s skin (er, casings?) as he says simply, “Just ask them, then, I’m sure they’ll be happy to tell you how wrong you are.”

“I will!” Sun declares before both of their gazes are back on you, drilling expecting holes into you. Is it warmer in here than usual? You’re pretty sure these two need to get the heating units checked. “So, darling, who’s your favorite?” 

Stumbling to respond, you reflexively bite your thumb as you murmur, “...Both of you?” 

Moon’s face falls. “Pity.” 

With a scoff, Sun elbows him. “It is not! It just means I need to work harder!” 

Okay, this is strange, right? Because you can’t shake the weird feeling that settles over you while you ask,“For what, exactly?” This feels like it may have gone past the point of simply wanting to know your name.

And that hesitance only seems to be validated when the two animatronics share the quickest of glances, over in a second. “For– For your name, of course!” Sun exclaims with a tad too much volume, his cheery beam contradicting the serious look he levels you with. “What else, Sunshine? Did Moonie tell you something? Because he was lying.” 

And now your interest is very piqued. You haven’t known Sun for too long, but you do know someone who’s fibbing when you see them. 

“What?” Moon asks, exasperated and offended at the accusations. “I didn’t say a thing, why would you think I would tell them?” 

You blink. “Tell me what?” 

“Nothing, Star–” the lunar animatronic starts, holding his hands out, before he’s rather brashly interrupted by his brother, who looks to be moments away from bursting at the seams.

“We kind of maybe made a bet.” 

“Sun,” Moon snaps, almost a growl, while the gears in your mind twist and turn overtime to make sense of what the hell they would be betting on like this. 

“A…bet,” you say, flat and confused, only making Moon let out another groan.

“Sorry!” Sun rushes in a panic, placing his hand on Moon’s shoulder. “I don’t like keeping secrets.” 

Moon doesn’t push him off, which brings you the slightest amount of relief, but does nothing to dull your growing perplexion. “So, what was this bet all about?” you ask them, narrowing your eyes at each brother. 

Moon’s the first to speak up while Sun fidgets with the hem of his apron, decidedly looking away from you. “Who could find out your name first, of course,” he answers, though the inflection in his tone gives way to the idea that there’s something more than just that.

“I don’t see why this was a secret.” 

“Oh, see, that’s because–! Uh…” Sun catches himself before he can put his foot in his mouth, letting out a sharp yelp when Moon elbows him quite roughly in the side. Silently, he mimes zipping his lips. Moon’s shoulders sag.

“Well, cat’s out of the bag now, I suppose,” he relents around a sigh. Then, all too quickly, he’s leaning down, a smile quickly growing in place of the frown on his face seconds before. “The winner of our little bet would get to ask you on a date.” 

Your mind grinds to a halt, and you blink, face flaring up without your consent as his words register. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, this is much better than you had thought it would be. Is this what John was talking about? Did he know about their bet? So, so many questions. 

Finally, after the mush of your brain scrapes itself together enough to form words, the question you decide to ask is, “And you didn’t both just ask me, why?” 

You watch Moon’s eyebrows raise, not seeming to have anticipated that as your answer. “Well, we weren’t sure if that was something you’d be interested in,” he replies, his tone oddly surprised, as if the fact that you had actively flirted back with them both wasn’t enough evidence for him. But sure, fine, you can be direct.

“Well,” you tell him, reaching out to boop him on the nose and ignoring your heart hammering away in your ribcage, “I’m interested.”

“I don’t know,” Sun pipes up from behind Moon, looking between the two of you. “I mean, a date with someone we don’t even know the name of? Sounds kind of risky, Moonie, don’tcha think?”

“I absolutely agree. You can never be too careful.”

You groan. “Oh, come on. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“That’s all on you,” he says with a boop to your nose just like you had done to him before straightening beside Sun. They’re both staring at you, Moon’s arms crossed and Sun’s behind his back. “All you need to do is tell us, Starshine; what’s your real name?” 

“Well, I suppose you could just call me yours.” 

Moon’s smile immediately drops. “That was terrible,” he deadpans while Sun pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Absolutely awful,” Sun agrees. “And probably moving a little too fast.”

You give a flustered smile. Oh, gosh, this is really happening. “Then how about that date first?”

“Not until we know what to properly call you.”

You hesitate. You know it isn’t fair, after everything that’s happened in the past week, but you bite your tongue, contemplating it. You take enough time for Sun’s expression to flatten, his eyes turning downward in worry. “Sunshine, listen, if you really don’t want us to know–”

A single word falls from your lips, quiet to your own ears, but from how both animatronics freeze, you know they’ve heard you. The whirring of servos is deafening as you tear your gaze from the ground and force yourself to look up at them—only to be met with two big, genuine grins. 

Sun is the first to speak up, repeating your name and testing it on his tongue before giving a giggle. “Such a wonderful name,” he says, fondness radiating from him. You’re pretty certain the only word to describe the look on his face is dopey. 

“I agree,” Moon tells you, the teasing air he held before all but dissipated. He says your name as well, sweet like honey, and you’re embarrassed by how much you want to hear it again if he’ll say it like that every single time. “The perfect name for the perfect little Star.”

“Oh my gosh,” you mumble, hiding your face in your hands. Yep, that’s it, these two are absolutely going to be the death of you. You don’t think you can properly breathe when they force themselves farther into your personal space, delighted at the soft squeak you make. Oh, dear, they were not this close before.

“So, Sunshine,” Sun says with a twirl of his sunrays, all too giddy as he places a metal hand on the small of your back. 

“About that date,” Moon finishes, silicone fingers dancing up your arm and resting on your shoulder. Both squeeze, ever so lightly, and your face is engulfed in flames, tingles shooting up your spine and across your arm.

Yep. They’re definitely out to kill you. Gosh, what are your friends going to think? Rest is peace you, died to the hands of two robots that you were too whipped for to survive their onslaught of affection.

“That was a quick turnaround,” you muse, reflexively joking to lighten the air around you. Not that you’re uncomfortable, you’re anything but, but it’s…quite a bit overwhelming, having not one but two objects of your affection suddenly so close and intimate. 

“Golly, that’s not a no, is it, darling?” Sun questions, sugary-sweetness coating his words of faux disappointment. They know you’re not going to say no, the jackasses, but they want to hear you say it. Maybe it’s just the simp part of you talking, but you really don’t mind this as much as you probably ought to. 

“No, no,” you say, holding up your hands. You wince when both animatronics' faces drop. “I mean– Yes! Yes, I’d very much like to go on a date. Not a no.”

You honestly don’t know what you expected when it came to their reaction, but you don’t expect the way their eyes brighten and, with another shared look, they both lean down farther. You yelp, eyes wide as you feel two metal smiles press against your cheeks, one on each. They both make little “mwah!” sounds before pulling away, leaving you staring. 

You feel like a dumb highschooler, heart beating out of your chest just because they each gave you a little cheek kiss. Really, it shouldn’t have you as flustered as it does, but dear lord does it make your heart swell. 

You’re probably grinning like an idiot, but you hardly care. In fact, nothing in the world seems like it matters, you’re on cloud nine. 

You blame the happy haze clouding your mind when you make a rather impromptu decision. Before either can react, you grab Sun by the collar of his sweater, pulling him in and crashing your mouth against his. It’s not like kissing a human, all metal and silicone, but the little warble that escapes his voicebox is decidedly entirely worth it. 

But, of course, you’re not going to let Moon escape, either. Turning from his brother, you set your sights on him, watching his optics flicker as you grow closer. He doesn’t resist you at all, despite knowing it’s coming, when you pull him in by the neck straps of his apron and press a gentle kiss against his mouth as well. It creates the same flurry of butterflies in your stomach, and you decide that you could get more addicted to this feeling swirling inside of you than you ever could to caffeine. 

When you pull away, you can’t help but giggle. You should probably be a little more worried, with the way their eyes are both shot wide open and their smiles have dropped. If you didn’t know better, you’d think they’d have short circuited. Honestly, you might have even thought that, if not for the way Sun’s rays spin around his head at a maddening pace and how Moon lifts his hand to gently press against his mouth.

“So, boys,” you say with newfound confidence, watching the flustered animatronics with glee. “When’s that date?”

(You’re answered with a flurry of kisses that leaves you breathless and a promise of a date night filled with butterflies and snuggles. The perfect at-home movie night, they call it. And you? Yeah, you couldn’t be happier.)