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The Shindo family coffee house was home for Mikaela. He couldn’t get enough of the aromatic scent of espresso, of the warm chocolates and caramels wafting about the shop. The crunch of the coffee beans in the grinder and the thick whirl of the frothing machine were sounds he came to find nostalgic. The solace of coffee infusing him with its warmth was only a brew away.
As the evening drew to a close, the big glass windows provided a perfect view of the night’s harvest moon, its light spilling into the streets and melding with the soft yellow gleam of the lamps. An ethereal glow fell on his many guests spread across the bistro tables. A group of girls made airy slurps of cappuccinos long since devoured as they discussed the latest album from AKB48. Friends in the corner, with stickers covering their laptop cases, tapped away at assignments with greater speed than businesspeople. A young man in one of the arm chairs had a good sniffle over the novel Snow Country , which he assured Mikaela was the pinnacle of drama and romance. In the back, a couple held hands as they scanned the merchandise shelving the walls, such as artisan cookies and Inoe family designer mugs.
Mikaela, meanwhile, was finishing up a drink for one of his favorite regulars: Akane Iida, a college student from one of the local universities. She’d spoken many times about her tiresome pursuit of linguistics, of the mora constituting an ‘important timing unit that has broad implications for the phonetic and phonological system of Japanese.’ She had more to say on the subject than others would have to say about their entire lives. At the moment, however, her face was glued to the artwork on the chalkboard display: a little cartoon dog dancing around today’s special.
She always got latte art—the first design Mikaela ever remembered practicing. Milk in hand, he recalled the steps his mother showed him years ago.
‘Pour from a greater height so the milk dives beneath the steaming pools of espresso. As you reunite the pitcher and mug, start pouring faster for the foam to rise on the top. To make a heart, pour into the center of your coffee until a white circle spreads across the surface. Lift the stream of milk at the end to suck in the shape and cut through the center to make the bottom.’
He could do it as easily as breathing.
“Here you go!” Mikaela rested his creation on the counter. “Good luck on your exam!”
The sparkle in Akane’s eyes was evident, despite the steam misting up her glasses.
“You’re a lifesaver!”
A cautious sip followed, then a shudder of delight as it warmed her insides up—a pleasure Mikaela knew intimately.
“With this, I bet I can cram ‘till dawn!”
When he raised a single brow, Akane, quite familiar with this expression, retracted her statement at once.
“I mean…” Her eyes darted to the cookies in the glass case as she searched for the right words. “Stay up… until eleven. Because I studied already.”
Far too late for any genuine amendments, Mikaela had to laugh.
“Don’t worry about it! You’ll be fine—”
Slam!
The back door burst forth, and across the threshold came a vampire of blood-chilling beauty, hair black as night, and menacing eyes of crimson. He gritted his teeth, exposing the glint of his razor-sharp fangs, white as the uniform he wore.
“Mika holy fuck!”
All sips and murmurs ceased.
Akane’s drink slipped from her fingers.
“Is… is that a—”
“Vampire!” shouted a member of the window shopping couple. Her bags collapsed to the floor.
“Oh no…” Mikaela muttered.
With another scream of “Run or you’re dead!” the coffee house emptied at once. Some guests abandoned their belongings until morning when it would be safer to retrieve them. Others scooped their laptops into their arms before they ran off. The once cozy ambiance of the shop transformed into a desolate pit of life and death, their screams a vacuum that sucked out all the tranquility.
When all was empty and still, Mikaela faced the creature of the night who stole all his customers: Yuuichirou Amane.
Bloodsucker.
Noble.
And as of four months, his boyfriend.
“Sorry…” Yuuichirou said as he watched the last man scurry out of sight without his playing cards.
“We talked about this, Yuu-chan.”
“It couldn’t wait! I was too mad!”
He made a show of pumping his fists.
Mikaela rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. More cat-and-mouse games with the demon army?”
Since the day Yuuichirou stepped into Mikaela’s world, he and the vampire extermination unit had been fighting tirelessly.
There Mikaela had been, checking to make sure nothing expired that night, when an injured vampire stumbled at his doorstep. He bled profusely on the wooden floor, holding his abdomen and mumbling about letting the stupid humans cut him up too much. An object he referred to as a UV band was missing.
He professed that Sanguinem was too far, that he was running out of time, and begged to consume his blood.
Mikaela hadn’t known why, but there was something about his face, something that told him he could trust the horrifying vampire powerful enough to slip through Shibuya’s barriers.
From Yuuichirou’s perspective, something about the human fostered a hope he wouldn’t die that night.
And like a stray cat fed only once, he started coming back for more.
Why, he couldn’t say. Not at the beginning.
The otherworldly taste of his blood had been his first excuse.
But somewhere along the way, Mikaela brought out the humanity he thought he had lost, and affection blossomed between them.
“That stupid Kimizuki!” Yuuichirou said, rounding the corner of the counter. “He brought back-up this time! A-And he had this new weapon that looked like a coffin and—”
In the time he continued his rant, Yuuichirou’s hands had made their way to Mikaela’s collar. He had just unfastened the first button when the latter gently pushed his fingers away.
“Oh no, you’re not getting anything!”
Not accustomed to hearing no from his sweet-tempered boyfriend, Yuuichirou’s mouth fell open.
“Huh!? C’mon, that’s just mean!”
To be sure, Mikaela didn’t like refusing him blood, but a swift punishment was justified, no matter what adorable, sulking expression he weaponized.
“You scared off my customers!”
“You hate when they lounge around near closing time!” was Yuuichirou’s argument back. He attempted to squeeze Mikaela’s hand, but this, too, was a failed attempt.
“Doesn’t matter! It’s not even 11:00!”
Furthermore, he enjoyed his customers up until it was time to go. All his complaints were lighthearted in nature, but he didn’t expect Yuuichirou to pick that up.
“You’re not getting a single drop until you make it up to me!”
Yuuichirou tilted his head.
“How?”
“… Wait here.”
Mikaela left for the supply closet.
Freshly folded aprons lay atop of a dresser. He picked one up and dangled it before Yuuichirou.
Giving it and Mikaela a hesitant once over, he asked, “What’s that?”
“Put it on.”
“You’re kidding! I can’t make coffee!”
“That’s why I’m teaching you.”
“B-But there’s no one to serve!”
He was certain this excuse would free him from the shackles of obligation, but a sudden cleared throat, and Yuuichirou turned to find a human sitting in the far back. She twirled a lock of her ashen hair with her index finger, and in her eyes was a mischievous glimmer. Her smirk only deepened once they locked gazes.
“Shinoa!?”
His partner’s human companion.
Her lack of terror when Mikaela had introduced them had been nothing short of disturbing, and she was always wearing a smile he couldn’t read.
“Good evening, Yuu-san.”
“What’ll it be?” Mikaela asked, patting Yuuichirou’s shoulder. “He’ll be glad to help.”
“A simple French press will do nicely.”
Shinoa preferred this method of brewing because, in her words, no barrier lived between her and the coffee’s natural taste. Just true essence and flavor, without the complications.
As luck would have it, it was one of Mikaela’s favorites to serve.
“You heard her. Let’s get to work.”
Yuuichirou shot an incredulous look at Mikaela, then Shinoa, then back to Mikaela.
When no one informed him they were kidding, he said at last, “Fine! Whatever!”
He let Mikaela drape the apron over his body and tie it in the back, ignoring his self-satisfied hum.
“I’ve seen you do it tons of times! I don’t even need your help!”
Mikaela’s fingers drew back from his press.
“Is that so?” He asked, grinning.
“Yeah!”
“Then it’s all up to you. Do your best!”
“Right! Erm…”
Yuuichirou's hands hovered about the different tools before him. The blenders, the thermal thermometers, whipped cream canisters, and drizzles… he only had a vague clue what all of them were for.
Before he so bravely denied Mikaela’s assistance, hadn’t he picked up a brewing device with some sort of plunger?
Yeah, that was it.
His keen vampire eyes were undeceivable, and his memories were sharp.
How hard could figuring it out be?
When he brought the press forward, Mikaela’s eyes widened.
“Impressed?” Yuuichirou asked.
“Not quite…”
A sweetness lived in Mikaela's tone that didn’t match his negation.
Surely coffee was next. Stacks of bags stood before Yuuichirou, displaying a litany of names and colors he hadn’t cared to differentiate in the slightest.
Mikaela and his blood were the only things ever worth a second glance.
The last time he watched Mikaela make himself a drink, he might have used the bag that said caramel, but he was too busy looking at him to pay any attention.
‘Didn’t Mika say something about the coarseness of sea salt…?’
But none of them looked like salt.
What was salt again?
Mikaela snickered.
“What!?” Yuuichirou said. He faced Mikaela not only to confront him but to revel in his favorite smile.
“You’re cute when you’re thinking hard.”
“Humph…”
He didn’t turn away fast enough to hide the blood creeping to his cheeks.
He had to end this quickly. Ignoring the bag that said ‘French Roast’ (indeed, he neglected to make the connection between that and the name of Shinoa’s preferred drink), he settled for the brown bag closest to him.
Brown.
Brown for coffee.
“Two tablespoons per six ounces. Know what that means?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I do!”
Determined not to fall into another spell of contemplation, he opened the bag and shook the coffee grounds into the press six times.
“There! Time for water!”
“How’s it going?” Shinoa asked from her seat.
“Perfect! Um…”
‘Humans like it hot right?’ He wondered.
For a vampire, hot and cold were more human concepts. Both consisted of nothing but a vague, dull ache for him. Sensations nonetheless, but nothing he could discern with clarity.
How hot was too hot for a person?
Did the—
“What’re you waiting for?” Mikaela broke in.
His voice made Yuuichirou too happy to be the irritant it should’ve been.
If only that voice was offering him blood.
“Are you going to serve it to her dry?”
“No!”
Yuuichirou strode to the sink and loaded his brewing device with water. Whether the temperature was correct, he didn’t know. All that mattered was filling it to the brim.
‘Done!’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he noticed the press had one more part he didn’t use: a plunger-looking device.
But what was he to do with it?
‘There’s a press part… in the name…’
A sudden memory struck Yuuichirou, another late night where Mikaela made coffee for himself. Yuuichirou didn’t exactly leave him to brew, for his arms had draped over his shoulders, and he babbled on about nothing in particular.
Whatever he could say to make him laugh.
Mikaela, in any case, had done something with this exact plunger before he drank.
“Aha!”
Back then, Mikaela had said something about ‘letting it steep,’ but surely it would taste better the sooner he completed it. He plunged his concoction at once and poured it into one of the damp mugs from the dishwasher.
At last, he could say “Done!” and he set his coffee on the counter.
“Enjoy, human!”
The first problem Shinoa noticed when she approached her drink was the lack of steam from afar—the second, a lack of tantalizing aroma. Within the cup, soggy clumps of lukewarm coffee floated in water already cooled.
“Greeeeat.”
“Isn’t it!?”
She took a sip, that is to say, she only let her lips crest the edge of the mug. Her single swallow was quite audible and curt.
“So! How’d I do!?” asked Yuuichirou.
To mince words was impossible. “Awful.”
“Wha—No way!”
There went Yuuichirou’s favorite laugh in the world. A shame it had to be directed at him again.
“It’s on the house, I promise!” Mikaela said between giggles.
“Mika! I made her drink! So she needs to pay up!”
“For that!?”
At ‘that’ Mikaela gently shook the cup and let the floating grounds toss and turn.
“No, no, it’s fine. Thank you, Yuu-san.”
Shinoa, the good samaritan that she was, set her money on the counter.
“See you tomorrow, Mikaela.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Wait! You forgot your—”
Yuuichirou silenced himself once he realized the purposefulness in her neglect.
Nevertheless, upon her disappearance, he and Mikaela were alone at last.
“Finally… c’mere, Mika.”
“Yeah…”
As was their tradition, their night together began with a quiet embrace.
They rested brow to brow, holding the other’s face in their palms and abandoning themselves to each other’s presence.
For Yuuichirou, Mikaela’s blood overpowered every smell in the coffee house, infusing him with the same nostalgia Mikaela derived from the ambiance of his shop.
“Okay,” he said, breaking their silence after a while.
“I made coffee. So give me your blood…”
When they pulled back, and Mikaela returned his gaze with a frown, the idea he may end his visit without blood began to sink in.
Unlike other vampires, Mikaela’s consent was quintessential for him.
Without it, not a single drop would fall on Yuuichirou’s tongue.
“…Please?” He added meekly.
At this, Mikaela’s act fell apart at once.
His fake scowl collapsed with his laughter, and he placed a kiss chaste and delicate on his lips.
‘So cute,’ He thought.
He’d never tire of teasing that face.
Rolling up his sleeve, he bestowed his arm to Yuuichirou in the manner of a grand prize.
“Help yourself. Radial vein, please.”
But to his bewilderment, Yuuichirou slumped his shoulders.
“No Mika!” He whined, “I don’t want a vein!”
“W-What’s the difference?” Mikaela asked, disappointed his research had been for naught. “It’s all blood!”
“Tons! Arteries are way better!”
How Mikaela could understand the complexities of a mere human drink, but not the nuances of his own body, was something Yuuichirou couldn’t begin to comprehend.
“Way better?” Mikaela parroted with a smirk.
Yuuichirou remained serious. “Way, way better! For one, the pressure is higher so I get more when I sip! Your veins are like a bad… what was it called? A terrible water fountain!”
“Hey!”
“I mean it!”
He wrapped an arm around Mikaela’s waist as he listed off all the reasons his offering was offensive.
“Veins are more acidic too! And they’re more likely to have disgusting clots! And then all your extravascular fluid dumps into them! It’s the worst!”
“Ahaha! Sorry.”
“That’s why the best place to drink in the world is right here!”
Yuuichirou ran a finger along Mikaela’s neck, tracing his carotid artery and the bite marks that had yet to heal from their last indulgence. The memories of that feeding created a chill that climbed the ladder of Mikaela’s spine.
With a shaky breath, he remarked, “I didn’t know so much went into it…”
He let Yuuichirou’s fingers trail from beneath his pulse to his collar, anticipation courting him into his touch.
He clumsily helped him unbutton it.
“Yeah! It’s super complex! Unlike that coffee you’re always going on about.”
“That’s—”
Yuuichirou biting into his flesh eviscerated the rest of his sentence, and a pleasurable sting paralyzed him where he stood. Consuming coffee paled in comparison to the way their union warmed him from within.
The moment his blood depleted from his artery, a wave of endorphins washed over his brain, unearthing a joy unlike any he’d ever known. Ecstasy made a mess of his mind and throbbing heart, made him dreadfully open to the idea of being devoured right then and there, shame be damned.
When his consciousness welcomed, embraced, the death that was sure to come if this continued, therein lied his signal to stop. He dropped the hand cradling the back of Yuuichirou’s head and gave his back their signature three pats.
Concurrently, detaching from Mikaela proved difficult each time. The very taste of his blood intoxicated Yuuichirou, wiped his mind clean of anything else. Everything in him wanted to continue consuming it, but keeping Mikaela alive transcended instinct.
Surreal, how affection for a human mattered more to him than getting his fill.
But it wasn’t just any person for which he denied himself, so he wholly rebelled without question.
He retracted his teeth, and a satisfied gasp left both their lips.
Having wiped his chin with the back of his glove, Yuuichirou said, “Ah, that was dangerously good as always!”
“Ngh…”
Before Mikaela could take a single, dizzied step forward, Yuuichirou already caught him in his arms.
“Mika!”
“So noisy…” He returned his embrace with an affectionate little squeeze of his own. A kiss quick but passionate followed. “Don’t worry about me. I’m used to you getting carried away.”
“But…”
As much as Mikaela hated seeing Yuuichirou’s averted gaze, the slight quiver to his lips, he took an almost defiant joy in it. That Yuuichirou cared for him, a mere human, never ceased to amaze.
“Don’t make that face…” He said, his fingers brushing against Yuuichirou’s cheek.
“Here, I know what’ll recharge me.”
Mikaela returned to the counter and took Shinoa’s mostly full mug. He stared at it for a while, swallowed hard, then took a long sip.
“My coffee!?” Yuuichirou asked, face aglow.
“Y-Yes. Yuu-chan worked hard on it, so I’ll drink some.”
In the manner of an excited puppy, Yuuichirou pranced to Mikaela’s side. He leaned over his shoulder, eyes fixated on his neck as he watched each feeble swallow.
“Well? Shinoa was wrong, right!?”
He awaited Mikaela’s verdict with bated breath the moment his lips parted from Shinoa’s mug.
“It’s super delicious, isn’t it!?”
“It’s…” Mikaela smacked his lips. “Terrible.”
Though he said it as gently as he could, he still wiped the smile clean off Yuuichirou’s face.
“Aww, really!?”
“It’s only natural,” Mikaela quickly added. He wrapped an arm around Yuuichirou’s waist and listed off all the reasons his creation was offensive to the tongue.
“The coffee to water ratio is all wrong, the water didn’t come to a boil so it didn’t disintegrate, and you didn’t let it steep.”
“I…”
Rather than admit there was more to coffee than Yuuichirou thought, he simply said:
“Oh…”
Mikaela smiled.
“If you want to get better, you have no choice but to practice with me.”
As soon as he said that, he paused, quick to revise his remark.
“When no one’s around. Way after 11:00.”
Blushing, Yuuichirou gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah—”
“And if it’s good, I’ll give you a reward, okay?”
Mikaela patted his bite marks.
Yuuichirou grinned and, with a laugh giddy and pleased, almost tackled Mikaela into an embrace.
“Got it!”