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Did coffee and orange juice go well together?
It was probably a bad idea to just pour the two of them together into a glass and just drink that. The mixture would be too jarring, the two flavors strongly clashing. It wouldn’t be a good combination. You can’t just put two such different things together like that, coming from such different backgrounds, made so different, and have anything even remotely harmonious.
That’s what they would’ve thought, if they had been asked that at any point in their life. Probably so until only a couple of months ago.
Definitely not. No way. The sweetness and the bitterness, they’re for different things. Not to be combined.
He was once again cupping their cheeks in his warm hands, and softly kissing every bit of their face. His lips were forever sweet, adding a faint smell of orange to their constant perfume of toasty coffee.
They’d never think to drink and enjoy something so sweet, so unabashedly… cheerful. Colorful. Uncomplicated.
His hands on their skin, his index fingers slowly caressed their skin, and one at a time, every finger of his followed the pattern, taking great care to study the shape, the features, the details, through nothing more than touch. His eyes were closed, drinking in the moment of bliss, one sense at a time.
Coffee is bitter, by its nature. Too many people try to sweeten it, adulterate it, modify it, with familiar and approved ingredients, and make it more palatable. Friendlier, more appealing, a less blunt sensation, easier to take in.
He rested his forehead on theirs, and for a moment, just stayed there, breathing quietly and slowly, and then he very gingerly pressed his nose against theirs, rubbing it slightly. His fingers were now running idly through their hair, as if wanting to know every texture to enjoy in the moment.
“You’re wonderful to kiss…” His voice, at this distance, felt like a warm blanket being draped over them, soft and comforting.
“I don’t know why you say that… it’s not like I’ve done anything for myself…”
“You don’t have to.”
“But it’s only me.”
“And that’s the best feeling I can think of kissing.”
Orange juice has citric acidity, fructose, added glucose, and its characteristic “orang-y-ness” flavor. Unmistakable, vibrant, and less harsh on the mouth.
Coffee is complicated. So many variables to keep track of when grown, harvested, roasted, grinded, brewed. So many steps, so many considerations. So many complaints if anything goes wrong. If anything is not to taste, too unexpected. A delicate balance, that’s too easy for things to go wrong. A cup made, and swiftly thrown away.
“You’ve been saying that to me for months now…”
“It’s always true.”
His hands went down to their sides, caressing them, appreciating the warmth of the skin, the particular way their body was built.
And smiling as he felt the tension of their muscles slowly melt away under his hands, years of learned nervousness and the instinct of apprehension, making way to unfamiliar vulnerability, and not knowing how to react, just going along with how he did things.
They kissed him back. It was clumsy, it was the movements of someone still trying to learn how to do this. It still made him smile.
When their lips parted, he lightly licked his lips. He giggled under his breath.
“What?”
“You have a lovely aftertaste of coffee.”
“...you don’t even like coffee.”
“I like you.”
“I taste of coffee.”
“Then I must like coffee!”
In a world of complications and problems, such straight-forwardness was… almost refreshing. It was clear and immediate. No labels or pretensions. What you saw was what you got. Sweet, simple, succinct.
Like a juicebox.
“...you always taste sweeter than me, anyway.”
“Well, sweetness should be shared.”
“Maybe sweetness is not for everyone.”
“Maybe. But it is for you.”
He pulled them closer, enveloping them in his arms, and his affection. It felt like laying down on a quiet beach, with the sun on their skin, and hearing a gentle rhythm.
He was pressing his cheek against theirs, and humming happily, knowing that they could hear him. It was simply impossible to pull away. All of their stubbornness, their coldness, he just went right through. It made no sense to them. This shouldn’t work. Never in a thousand years would they think so.
He kissed their lips again. Orange juice, joyous and carefree. They loved it now. It was the taste of being happy. Of having a moment to indulge in something lovely. They kissed back, wrapping their arms around him and pulling closer. They wanted this to linger, to last, to remember it with every sense.
Did coffee and orange juice go well together?
It shouldn’t make sense. It shouldn’t be good.
But, despite all her predictions and preconceptions, somehow… the two flavors, put together in a particular way, ended up making something wonderful.