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Josuke rubbed his eyes, placing the kettle on the stove. He let the water boil in the stainless steel and stood in front of the counter to search the compartments for some bags of lemon balm. Well, he didn't know where Rohan left these things now because he was constantly changing the place of it in the kitchen.
As soon as Josuke tidied up and rid himself of those ridiculously poor foods of any benefit to Rohan's health, the man would appear and make everything mess again with the same unhealthy things that were only practical in his head.
Anyway, he was there now. And sure enough, he found the package in the bottommost compartment after opening all the closet doors. "I found it!"
He got up too quickly and didn't even realize he had forgotten the open doors and banged his head on them. Damn the height, Josuke whined as he caressed the place he had hurt. It would still have a while until the boiling point of the water.
He was still drowsy, so upon further analysis of the effects that the taste could bring on his body, he knew he would surely be more tired later. And his partner... Let's say Rohan needed more stress-relieving things than the boy actually.
These herbs were soothing, but they also relieved the headache with a taste Josuke thought that was really good. It didn't even matter because it had become a habit to have whatever tea was in the morning, but he needed it. The night had been hectic and all his muscles ached as he regretted drinking more than usual. Having come of age had not exactly guaranteed him the resistance to the alcohol he envisioned, and Josuke swears to God: he was sober when he arrived at his boyfriend's house.
Rohan, though... Well, the mangaka wasn't very conscious. The thought of those memories made his cheeks burn a little.
When he noticed that he had spent too much time in his daydreams, he ran and took the sames cups the couple used to use and set them both on the counter. One green and one blue, of course. Because yes, colors mattered in his head. Or maybe it was just the memories of the first time he came to visit the artist's house more often and, begging with his gaze, could make Rohan come and go with some packets of gingerbread cookies and some generic tea that existed in his kitchen. Each month visits increased more for no clear reason and no one suspected. Soon Josuke had colored Rohan's life much more intensely than he had imagined: a blue that burned alive and gentle in the bitter taste of the man, without double senses.
Josuke was becoming synesthetic living with someone so artistic.
He turned off the heat and picked up the kettle, pouring the liquid through the two cups without difficulty. Okay, maybe he burned his hand a little bit, but nothing surprising to say. And he prepared the infusion, leaving the two bales of lemon balm properly placed inside the cups, watching the water change color as they opened in the water. About five minutes more, probably. He hoped it wouldn't get too bad after all.
What was missing now? Sugar? Rohan put sugar in the teas? Yeah, he didn't know.
Josuke would put only a few spoons and after that he would be ready to turn around and up the living room stairs to wake Rohan when he felt two arms tighten around his waist. His lover's scent soon reached his nose and he calmed down. A silly smile came from himself as he felt the other man rest his head against his back and squeeze Josuke more.
"Good morning, babe!"
"... Morning, Jojo." The drunken voice of sleep next to the nickname was madly cute for Josuke to bear. "What are you doing?"
"Huh, I believe tea."
Rohan didn't let go, but shifted a little behind him when he heard.
“Were you doing this alone? God...”
"I know, maybe it can be a little bad, but-"
"No, I'm surprised." The boy turned, allowing them to face each other. "I'm glad there are benefits to me you being here."
“Of course there is! There are several. I can be very helpful.”
Josuke gave him a quick peck, lingering longer in the hug. “I'll be here to make your food and keep you from eating those instant crap, and I'll make sure you don't get overworked at your job. I will also clean the garden and... Will we have more sex now, too?”
Josuke smirked, highlighting the marks on Rohan's exposed neck as a result of last night. He was wearing his jacket and was without his usual headband. Sexy, no doubt about it.
The artist widened his eyes, pushing the young man. "You won't be repeating that phrase for the next two weeks."
"You were needy yesterday, I liked that!"
Rohan ignored him, turning to grab his cup and hide his clear expression of embarrassment. Was it normal for his heart to still beat so fast even after three long years? It looked like it was going to explode as Josuke ran the tip of his nose around his neck.
Whatever it was, he was happy. But to Josuke's disappointment, Kishibe did not plan to admit this so verbally. What if Josuke thought Rohan was happy with his change? It was still bizarre to wake up every day and see the boy lying next to him. The artist preferred not to take the risk: he refused.
The older sighed as he brought the porcelain object to his lips, taking a sip of warm liquid with narrowed eyes and feeling the routine sensation along with his boyfriend's caresses warming his chest.
But soon the urge to vomit hit his stomach, and Rohan broke away from Josuke just to spit it out in the sink.
“You asshole, this is salty! Did you put salt in the tea?!”
"... W-Wasn't that sugar?"