Work Text:
In the sleepy, regular way of an afternoon in Sugar Springs, the sun beat down on the asphalt and the grass remained a sweet green, and overall, easygoingness was the tone.
The local coffee shop that Chase worked for had a lull in their business as the day stretched on, and he ended up slumping over the counter while he waited for the clock to finally hit three so he could leave. His boyfriend was waiting for him. His poor little study-Buddy, slumped over a reading assignment from his professor, withering away in the intense pre-summer heat of seventy degrees Fahrenheit. It pulled Chase's lips into a frown at the thought, for he desperately missed the man.
The man in question was sitting underneath a shaded table that belonged to the shop, and Chase could see him through the glass. There was an empty plate beside the book he was reading, and an hour ago there had been a chocolate croissant on it, but that had been devoured in under five minutes. In fact, Chase was the one to give him that croissant like the loving boyfriend he was. Though if he hadn't, he would've been fired. Which would suck. Chase did like to get money.
From his spot at the counter, he could see reading glasses perched on Buddy's nose. Buddy considered them to be a sacrifice of his dignity to even bring up needing, but Chase, on the other hand, thought he looked hot with them on. Like, a man that reads literature so much he needs glasses to see it? Hot. That meant he could do Chase's homework, which was even hotter, because he hated reading.
With a sigh, Chase slumped down and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, watching the window with a lovesick expression. The time was 2:58. He could do this. Only two more minutes of suffering a severe lack of his Buddy and then he could mess with him to all his liking. Oh, just the way he looked, a mask of concentration on his face—absolutely dreamy.
He couldn't wait to disrupt it.
—
Nox had run out of hot chocolate a while ago, but out of sheer habit, he kept on lifting the cup to his mouth and finding it empty. Every time, he would pull a quick frown and set it down, all while his eyes remained on the book assigned by his professor as mundane busywork. It wasn't anything extremely difficult for him to read, but it kept on referring to stuff that he needed to ask Chase about, simply because the gap in time between the 1890's and the present allowed for Nox to become easily bewildered.
It was a common occurrence for Nox to come away from non-fiction books with more questions than easy answers. Enough so that Chase laid out a time in his head once Nox finished a book: "Nox's cute question session". However, on occasion, Nox would put down silly things that he did know about—sometimes things Chase wasn't aware of—just to have the chance to explain it or make Chase go on a long, adorable rambling tangent, before he'd catch onto the reason why Nox had wanted an answer.
This time around, he had put down things that he did know about a lot more than not.
Small handwritten notes were scattered on the pages now. 'When the author refers to a mouse, does she mean the animal? I don't remember what else mice are for.' 'Is the plural of a moose meese, or is the plural of mice meese?' 'The financial crisis of 2008? - Ask Chase. Not a joke.' So on and so forth. All of this stuff was giving him a bit of a headache.
He just wanted to be done.
Tired of reading, he sighed and checked his watch. Before he could even read off the time, he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening , and someone was now standing over his shoulder. That someone was Chase, which meant it was past three and his shift was over.
"Hey, cookieboo," he said sweetly, placing a quick kiss on Nox's hair. "I got ya a gift. Can I sit? Or is this a goth only table?"
"Hullo," Nox greeted in return, offering a wave and trying to look a bit less dazed than he felt. A drink was placed down in front of his spot, right by his emptied out cup of hot chocolate and the plate where a chocolate croissant once sat. Immediately, Nox's eyes brightened, and he looked over at Chase happily.
"What's this?" he asked, feeling the side of the cup. "Is it iced chocolate? Like what I wanted?" Nox refused to ever call it iced hot chocolate, because that was contradictory by nature. Whenever he wanted a cold drink, he'd tell Chase he wanted only an iced chocolate. Hot could not be in the name. That was foolishness.
"Mmhhhm," Chase told him. "A customer forgot to take it, so I held onto it for you! Tell you what, we can trade? I'll look at your notes and see if I can help with anything, and you get to enjoy your nice drink, okay? I saw you from the window. God, I just wanted to run over and, like, squish your face. I missed you sooo much."
Chase had his own drink that he was keeping in his hand, and Nox watched him take a slow sip of it as he tugged the book away from Nox's spot and towards himself.
"What'd you get?" he asked Chase. "Someone forget that, too?"
"This? Oh, just a matcha latte! I made it since I had a biiit of extra stuff." Nox nodded, having no idea what a matcha was. He'd seen it around for sale, and it looked very green, but otherwise, he couldn't puzzle out what it was. "You gonna drink yours, babe?"
Nox nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. He wrapped two hands around the cup, feeling the chill from the ice on his hands. It was a bit strange that this cup wasn't see-through plastic like an iced drink might usually come in, but maybe they had run out and paper was the only option. Regardless, he lifted it up to his lips, completely missing the non-chocolate scent wafting off of it until he was halfway through taking a drink.
His mind scrambled to make sense of what was happening.
Gross, it thought.
It tasted like grass.
Ew.
This was not iced chocolate. This was a lie. A trick.
The smooth, milky texture of a cold, iced betrayal filled his mouth—oh, he could even taste the powder, and when he swallowed, a gross, green aftertaste settled in the back of his throat and on his tastebuds.
Chase watched him with a hand covering his face.
At first, he thought Chase was also struck down by the same horror he was experiencing. Maybe he was in shock because he just witnessed Nox getting poisoned. Until the situation clicked a bit more, and he realized Chase's shoulders were shaking, and he was laughing—he was even cackling, slapping the table, gasping for air.
"Oh my God, Buddy!" he wheezed. "Your- your face! Oh my God, that was like, the funniest thing ever!"
Nox glared at Chase. "What did you put in this? Lawn clippings and torture?"
"No! No. 'S just matcha, Buddy, don't worry! Ooohh my God, ppff," Chase laughed, almost in tears. Nox frowned very severely in his boyfriend's direction. No iced chocolate? This had to be the worst day of his life. He was tricked into drinking grass and now his boyfriend laughed.
"Here. I have your actual drink right here, okay? We can trade, I'm sorry, babe," he said, trying to appear more somber. He took a deep breath, which Nox was not impressed by at all. This was not a laughing matter.
With frightening speed and precision, Nox reached across the table and grabbed what he deserved: his iced chocolate. He did not pass Chase his evil drink. His boyfriend could grab that himself, because he didn't deserve to be handed it.
"Thank you," Nox told him curtly. This time, he took the lid off to confirm the identity of his drink. When satisfied, he picked the drink up and managed to chug it down in one go, leaving Chase to watch in shock and awe.
"…I was gonna say something about indirect kisses, or whatever, but that was terrifying," Chase said. "Is your stomach okay?"
"No," Nox answered calmly. And that was that.