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Ray hates coffee.
The bitterness, the cheapness and the almost medicinal note of caffeine just hits him the wrong way.
Ray shifts in the bed he and Sand share, almost pouting about Sand’s absence, when he turns his head a certain way and the date on the calendar hanging above the desk lamp catches his eye.
Ray doesn’t like coffee but Sand does. A thin ring of coffee stains the bedside table where Ray keeps his phone before going to sleep and Sand keeps his motorcycle keys. Just above the coffee stain is the calendar, and tomorrow’s date pops out from it, significant and big.
An idea suddenly strikes Ray, and the last piece to make Sand’s birthday perfect falls smoothly in place. He remembers how Sand’s last birthday went, and Ray wants to replace it with a better memory, and then amazing sex.
But first: taking Sand out on a date; second: buying him as many gifts as he wants; third: taking him to his father’s bar for his surprise gift; and last: taking him out on a late-night long drive.
“Ray, have you seen my shaving cream?” The bathroom door opens, admitting Sand, half-naked and a towel sitting low on his hips, into the bedroom. He pauses at the sight of Ray in their bed. Ray, on the contrary, is fully naked.
Ray smirks teasingly at Sand, “My eyes are up here.”
Sand’s steady gaze sweeps up, then deliberately drops lower, “Well, mine aren’t.” He starts turning away, before saying, “Oh, and what about the shaving cream?”
“Probably in the little drawer under the sink,” Ray suggests. Sand turns away from the door fully, watches Ray for a moment, then comes closer to the bed until he’s towering right over Ray. Lightly, Ray says, “Sand?” And then all sounds get swallowed up into Ray’s stomach as Sand gently holds his head with one hand and bends down to drop a fleeting kiss to the forehead.
“Thanks,” Sand says in a low voice, the dimple on the one cheek deepening with his heart-stopping smile.
Ray watches, transfixed, as Sand leaves their bedroom, and doesn’t try to move until Sand’s finished showering. And until Sand comes out of the shower, Ray lays on the bed and thinks about how awesome he’s to make this birthday for Sand. And it will most definitely start with the best coffee in the world.
He calls Ton about it.
“It’s midnight in New York, asshole,” Boston says as soon as the line connects.
“I didn’t think I called a weatherman,” Ray retorts.
“Whatever. I’m gonna hang up.”
“Nobody told you pick up,” Ray points out. “Hey, do you know what’s the best coffee in the entire world?”
“The one that’s my favourite,” Boston says, sounding disgruntled.
Ray falls deeper into the pillows, groaning. Boston starts yelling at him about volume control, and Ray starts to hang up after wishing him a good night.
“I’m not sleeping today,” Boston replies with, then doesn’t elaborate before ending the call.
Ray drags himself out of the bed, shivering at the cold temperature of the floor, and slips on a pair of slippers and his robe. The temperatures in this city are more dynamic and unpredictable than in Bangkok. It gets really cold sometime during Ray’s relaxing hours and gets really hot during Sand’s trip-planning hours. Ray also helps Sand in planning their trips but mostly with money and tons of reminders and notes and lists. It’s also Ray’s job to decide on the hotel they’ll be staying in.
The bathroom door opens once more and Sand comes out with the towel around his neck and a robe tied round the waist. Ray shuffles next to Sand and leans against the wall next to him, hands folded to supress his little shivers.
“So,” Ray begins.
Sand turns towards him, already smiling. His hair is tousled and wet and hangs into his eyes, and it’s really distracting.
“So.” Sand waits.
“What’s your favourite coffee?” Ray asks.
Sand is a bit taken aback but he replies sincerely, “Many. I like my coffee hot or cold, with or without cream and with as much sugar as you are allowed to consume.”
“Then,” Ray says, “what would you say to treating me to your favourite coffee today?”
Sand looks at him askance. “But you … don’t like coffee.”
Ray opens his mouth, reaching for something convincible to say. He settles on, “Well, I’m trying to try something new.”
Sand’s eyes take him in slowly, glowing like deep pools of chocolate in the sunlight coming from the open blinds in the room. Finally, he says, “Then, let me make you one.”
Ray finds that he still doesn’t like coffee much but he learns to make Sand’s favourite coffee so that he can serve it to him next day in bed, and if Sand cries a little and he cries a little, then that’s not a damper on the birthday celebration at all.