blonde roast coffee

Boy

PART TWO!
(part one) (ao3)


Sunday mornings were, in their own way, a magical thing.

There were no requirements and Andrew and Neil existed outside of time, together.

Sunday mornings were an indulgent event that started when Neil woke with the sun. No matter how much Andrew might attempt to bargain with the sun, it still rose at the same early hour every day, waking Neil along with it.

There were no morning runs though, and while Neil woke up early, he stuck around in bed until Andrew was ready to get up for the day.

Sunday mornings were for snoozing until brunch. Neil would wake and go perform his ablutions and climb back in bed, where he had to attempt to wrestle the covers back from Andrew. He never won. It was a practice in futility that took place every Sunday morning, and neither man would trade it for the world.

There were kisses in the morning. Andrew refused to ever get out of bed to brush his teeth until his bladder coerced him out of bed, and even then, did so unwillingly. Neil didn’t think he would ever become accustomed to Andrew’s rank ass breath, but if he kept his mouth closed Neil could avoid the worst of it. He usually ended up straying from Andrew’s mouth anyway.

Sundays mornings were reserved solely for their own form of worship. Namely in one another’s bodies. Reverent but firm touches were interspersed with soft kisses on Andrew’s body. Each time that he complained about his fuzzy teeth from eating cookies in bed or his desperate need to urinate, Neil would hide a smile by finding a new place on Andrew’s body to pepper with kisses. Andrew feeling safe enough to complain about very mundane things made Neil feel like he was over the moon.

There were moments, though, that weren’t so reverent. Andrew wasn’t as concerned with gentling his way across Neil’s body. He would give Neil biting kisses and just on the pleasurable side of rough touches, but they were Neil’s favorite. He loved the way that Andrew expressed himself without censure and without regard for the way that Nicky told them they were supposed to behave.

Sunday mornings were for erasing every moment from the past week where they were told that the way they loved was wrong in some way. Scathing remarks full of empty accusations only ever got a rise out of Neil. Andrew knew what they were, or weren’t, and for the most part never let it bother him. It did bother Neil.

There were reassurances between the men, lying there in the early morning light that took a week’s worth of prejudice off their back. And when Andrew rolled over Neil to brush up against everything before he continued his roll and walked into the bathroom, Neil was left sunk into the bed feeling boneless.

Sunday mornings were for making brunch together. While Andrew brushed his teeth, and went to the restroom, Neil would give himself a full thirty seconds to bask in bliss before he climbed out of bed and padded to the kitchen to make Andrew coffee.

There were not enough things Neil could add to coffee to ever make him want to drink it. He would gladly forfeit his life before partaking in the bitter bean juice. Andrew didn’t even really like it, he was just a caffeine addict and a blonde roast coffee was full of his drug of choice. Neil still had to dump three scoops of powdered, dark Belgian chocolate and fill it past the brim with whipped cream before Andrew would drink it, but there was nothing that could make it palatable to Neil. He preferred Assam tea with honey.

Sunday mornings were for drinking their respective hot beverages across from one another at their little two-person table. They would sandwich their feet together and sit in relative silence while they read the news that morning. Andrew would read the news, while Neil scrolled through exy forums online. When they were finished with their drinks they would go about making brunch together.

There were moments where Neil felt like he and Andrew were two halves of the same whole, in the same way that Nicky talked about Erik. They anticipated one another’s needs in a way that made Neil feel as if they had always been together and would never separate. It was in these moments that occasionally Andrew would let a laugh carry his face into a smile before schooling his features with a gruff cough.

Sunday mornings were now soft and sleepy. They were at one time something that Neil dreaded. There was no practice to distract him from the fact that his life was ending and if he was around Andrew’s group he was likely to see Andrew’s smile on meds. It was something that had an almost regular occurrence in Neil’s nightmares in those first few months of knowing him. Andrew’s smile on his meds split his face open and was full of menace.

There were no more medically induced smiles. Most smiles now came from an overabundance of chocolate where Andrew would quirk up his lips with his cheeks full of some dessert, squishing his eyes with his massive cheeks. Or there were smiles that were full of mischief when Neil was clumsy and tripped over a cat or a loose shoe—those were typically followed by a scathing comment about Neil’s ability to run away leaving him. Or there were the soft, sleepy smiles of contentment; those were Neil’s favorite.

Sunday mornings were now full of contentment. After brunch, when they moved to the couch and Andrew laid long ways on the couch with a book, Neil would worm his way in between Andrew’s legs. Andrew would relent with a huff of facetious annoyance and would lift his arms and set the book back down on Neil’s chest. Neil would wiggle and settle down into Andrew and if he timed it right and looked up right after Andrew sighed in contentment, he would see Andrew’s smile off his meds. That soft smile of contentment, where his eyes and nose crinkle and his eyebrows go up making a little furrow in his brows before it smooths back out.

There were moments, magic moments, on Sunday mornings that Neil decided that he would carry with him until the day that he died. Andrew knew that he would carry those moments long after his death. What he now had was worth facing down vengeful gods to keep.

And Andrew read to Neil.

I had so much fun writing this one. Like seriously. Oh my gods. I was worried at first that I would find it difficult to get the right amount of teasing in this story but after re-reading and a little editing, I think it turned out alright. Thank you so much to mattandbenedict for this wonderful, wonderful request. Also, azul23blue, I believe you were looking forward to this one too.

Request: Can you do a oneshot where Nat and the other avengers tease you about your crush on Steve,but he doesn’t get that the obvious comments are about him. Somehow(maybe they tell him,idk) he finds out and can’t believe it and you two kiss. Lots of fluff❤

“Captain Caffeine”

Warning: Swearing

“Well, well, well,” Tony smirked as you walked into the room, “Isn’t someone looking a little patriotic today?”

Without realising it, you had indeed co-ordinated your outfit with the red, white and blue of both the American flag… and Steve’s shield. A pair of navy blue jeans, a white shirt and a red leather jacket were the main components to your apparel for the day. You also were wearing a necklace that had a star as the pendant – it had been a gift from Steve last Christmas so you never took it off – but again, it was all coincidental.

Shooting daggers at Tony, you took a sip from the hot mug of coffee in your hands. You weren’t officially an Avenger (Fury hadn’t said the magic words including “Avengers” and “Initiative”) but everybody acted like you were. You’d saved Natasha’s life in the streets of New York without realising who it was. She had been deep in a conversation over her earpiece with Tony. It didn’t really matter what he was talking about – just the fact that it was Tony speaking meant that somebody was going to get offended and this time it was Natasha. Whilst heavily involved in her conversation, the red-headed agent hadn’t noticed the speed at which a drunk driver was barrelling around the corner.

Thanks to you hurling yourself at her, she wasn’t hit – although she did get a bruised hip and a stonking headache. In return, she offered you dinner and the pair of you hit it off. After that point, you’d been invited back to the Avengers Tower multiple times and you’d met the others. Though you hated to admit it – so you never did – the first time you saw Steve, you thought he was perhaps one of the most beautiful men you had ever met. His smile, his goofy laugh, and the way he ran his hands through his hair were adorable. When combined with his brave, chivalrous personality and his heart of gold, you could see why every woman you knew fawned over Captain America.

And that was the problem.

Every woman you knew fawned over Captain America. There were literally fan clubs across the US that had gathered solely with the intention of appreciating his chiselled abs or his cute butt (you could’ve sworn you saw something on the internet regarding a fan club called “Captain Ass-merica Appreciation Society”). Either way, you refused to let yourself become one of those people and so denied the feelings that were stirring within you.

However, what you couldn’t help was everybody else noticing how you wouldn’t shut up about him, how you complimented him regularly when he wore blue because it matched his eyes, how you smiled every time someone mentioned his name – it was pathetic how easily your body betrayed you. Pretty quickly, every single one of the Avengers had cottoned on to how you felt about him. Except two people – Steve and yourself.

“Speaking of which, where is the star-spangled stud today?” Tony said, taking a sip of his own drink. You had walked into the kitchen where everybody except for Steve had ‘assembled’. A pot of coffee had recently been made and most had a cup of it. Bruce was the only one without:
“Caffeine and I don’t really… mix well.” He’d said the first time you’d made the mistake of offering him some.

“Apparently, he’s having a lazy day. I wouldn’t expect him to move from his room for some time.” Natasha said nonchalantly. If you didn’t think so highly of the assassin, you’d be a little disconcerted about how she seemed to know everything about everyone at any one time.
“So that gives us the day to talk about him behind his-”

“Talk about who?” A cheerful voice said. 

Keep reading

Snow always keeps customers away from the coffee shop. It’s always a wonder why you don’t just close the store when you barely had enough people come through the door to meet your overhead. But you can always count on your regulars to show. Steve comes in brushing flakes of white from his scarf at 5:54 a.m. on the dot for his triple shot vanilla latte. Julie bustles through the door bringing a fresh dusting of snow for her blonde roast coffee with cream and two sugars. And Calum shuffles in at half six with a yawn and snow covered beanie. You smile as he approaches the counter.

“Caramel Macchiato, extra shot, extra caramel drizzle, add whip?”

“You got it,” he replies with a smile to mirror yours. He reaches for his wallet before you stop him.

“Not today, Cal. It’s on the house.”

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

You’ve been on first name basis with the attractive brown haired boy ever since the start of summer. He’s been a regular for quite some time, only he never started coming at the same time until he started his summer job. Back then he would order the same drink, only over ice. But now that he’s back to working on music with his bandmates and the weather is a chilling 25 degrees, he’s changed to a warm beverage.

Calum will never admit it to anyone, but you’re the reason he decided to keep waking up before the sun to have his morning coffee. He always liked the way you smiled so early in the morning. He also loved the way you would write his name on his cup when he needed his coffee to go. Besides, the coffee shop is a nice quiet place to work on lyrics, especially this early in the morning.

“Calum?” You call out as you place his mug of coffee on the bar.

He mutters a thank you before flashing a smile and taking residence at his usual table by the window.

When your shift ends two hours later, Calum is still sitting in his spot, laptop open, tapping away on the keys. You approach his table, two mugs in hand.

“Is anyone sitting here?” You smile.

“No, go right on ahead,” Calum offers you a warm, inviting smile.

You set the warm mugs down before taking a seat. “I figured you needed a refill on your coffee since it’s been a couple of hours.”

“Thank you.” He takes a sip of the drink identical to the one you made for him earlier. A small amount of whipped cream smearing to the tip of his nose.

A small giggle escapes your lips. When Calum gives you a quizzical look, you tap on the end of your own nose before falling into a minute fit of giggles. It takes a moment before he realises what you’re talking about before looks down to his mug and puts two and two together. He chuckles to himself before grabbing a napkin and wiping the whipped cream from his nose.

“Thanks,” he smiles. “I would have hated to walk around like that for the rest of the day.”

“You’re welcome. It would have been especially bad when you walked outside. It may have frozen to you nose permanently.” You smile as you take a sip of your own coffee, managing to avoid getting whipped cream on your nose.

“Can I ask you something?” Calum closes his laptop and nervously shifts in his seat.

“Sure, I guess,” you smile weakly, unsure of where this is going (but secretly hoping it ends with you giving him your phone number).

“Well, there’s this ice skating rink that’s opened down by the park. Would you maybe want to check it out with me sometime? And maybe…maybe let me take you to dinner?”

“Yes!” You blurt out almost too quickly. You smack your hand over your mouth, eyes wide in shock that your lips would betray you so quickly. “I mean, yes. I would like that.”

Calum laughs lightly. “Good. Great. Erm, how does tomorrow work?”

You nod your head enthusiastically. “Tomorrow is perfect. I’d love to,” you smile.

As you leave the coffee shop that morning, snow swirling around you, you take a moment to thank the powers that be for not closing the shop when it snows. Because although it did slow down business to almost a standstill, it allowed you to be heading home with the contact information of the attractive brown haired boy named Calum.

For @shutuplashton and @alreadymissings’ winter!5sos blurb night. :)