+A Cup of Milk Tea+

HAH. Now I'm really done with the series. Watch me go and do a Tea one now, lol. Let me know if there's prompt requests! I'm in the mood for emo and angst and TERRIBLE THINGS 8)



Coffee VIII: Doppio

It was a hot afternoon. Hot, sweaty, sticky, wet- the heat plastered shirts to backs, slacks to thighs. Tori's hand brushed back his bangs, hair slick against his face as he sighed, a fan in his hand. Not a bit of breeze passed through the room as he forlornly fanned the same hot air over himself.

"Do you want a coffee?" Soujirou asked from the door. Tori forced his head to turn and look at his cousin, standing in the doorway. His collar was unbuttoned, tie loose around his neck. As he watched, Soujirou lifted a plastic bag up with drinks.

"Starbucks double expressos. Kerr sent them." Soujirou still didn't have the tendency to refer to the blonde by his first name. Tori gave a grunt, refusing to comment in any way that would infer he had the same taste in coffee as him of all people. Soujirou slipped one of the cans out of the bag and tossed it over. The taller Nishimoto caught it, feeling the shock of the chilled can against his palm. He held the can up to his forehead with a sigh, his gaze falling unintentionally on Souji, leaning against the wall.

Soujirou opened his own can and took a long hard sip. A bead of sweat slipped down from past the frame of his glasses and trailing down just past his chin. Feeling it, Souji pulled off his glasses with one hand, brushing away the wetness with the back of his hand, can held loosely in his hand. Licking his lips to catch the last bit of coffee, he looked back at Tori, a slight flush to his cheeks from the heat. Tori suddenly realized how clear Soujirou's eyes were, almost tired but with a strong stare, built up from years of defensiveness. It was almost sexual, the bared openness of his face without their usual glasses. The facial structure was close to Shuuichiro's but the expression was all Soujirou, from the slight parting of lips to the faintest squint he had on as he stared at Tori in slight confusion.

"What?"

Tori shook his head, bringing him out of his revelry with mild horror of how close he'd been to thinking of Souji as more than his cousin and hurriedly downed the rest of the cold drink with a muttered 'nothing'. Damn Aidan. He tainted everything he touched, the bastard.





Coffee IX: Dose

The kiss was unexpected, rough, hardly romantic in any sense. Neither would know who had initiated- lips pressed hard against lips, a hand by someone's head reaching to entangle in hair, his head as he pushed against, away, towards the other man. It made no sense, but his mind wasn't thinking, his hands weren't listening as he touched arms, gripping at a shoulder that was broader, thicker than the one he knew.

Souji broke away gasping, saltiness burning at his eyes whether in anger or tears or desperation, he didn't know but he pushed away from the other man, pushing away from this, from something he didn't want to be reminded of, didn't want to face, didn't want and couldn't take. Tori looked shaken, his breath heavy, face stricken as if he did not comprehend what had just happened, who had done what. He pulled back, a flash of disgust? realization? self-loathing? across his face, Souji thought. Or was it pity? Too many emotions and feelings avalanched him at that moment, the kiss a needle at the top of an emotional haystack he'd spent years building and fencing and all of a sudden, he was sick to his stomach. This wasn't what he wanted. Who he wanted. He finally realized it now, Tori had made him face what he'd spent the past years escaping from. He pressed his hand against his mouth. Silence brewed in the dark room.

Tori got up, hand brushing through his own hair roughly, eyes avoidant. Before turning to leave though, he stopped, blinking a few times and glancing at Souji's feet rather than meeting his eyes.

"I'm sure even he would have said, alcohol and coffee doesn't mix." He picked up the bottle in his right hand and left, closing the door tightly behind him.

Soujirou's hand sat limply on the bed on top of a blue pillow, face turned to the side, eyes shut tightly behind his glasses. His hand, still covering his mouth, shook.