black coffee (skye&gale)
stedfaststars
“I don’t have a liquor license.” Gale muses, although he doubts that will stop Skye from insisting he keeps some behind the counter just for him when the store actually opens.
The motif of the store was like a tale being revealed piece by piece to those who knew the epic classic. Every polished iron skull or mournful bird carved from the bark of a walnut tree recalling a tale of two lovers and predictions about their fate yet to come.
There isn’t disgust, a look so easily coerced from Skye’s gaze, lingering behind long pale eyelashes. The brew was satisfactory, days of testing blend after blend and changing water pressure and fiddling with machines the less than tech-savvy Gale found himself struggling with was not for naught.
“I glanced over the list of recommended bakeries… and I have no interest in serving food.” It wasn’t a segway into another line of thought, but a close-ended statement that Gale punctuated with a lingering stare at the rim of Skye’s cup- slowly moving to pry it from cold ivory hands and take a sip before returning it to its rightful owner once more.
An indirect kiss, premeditating many to come.
“I am ready to open after the next full moon.”
The sound Skye makes is more of a hushed tsk of disregard over his worries regarding licenses and legality. That’s never stopped him before, and if the look Gale casts him is anything to go by, it’s that they’re both well aware he’s not about to start following the rules now-- investment or not, the concept is laughable to a kleptomaniac with a habit for pinching valuables.
“That’s a shame.”
Gale doesn’t care about revenue, he only cares about his coffee and his oh-so-indeterminable plans, food be damned.
Maybe. Maybe he cares some about Skye, too, or maybe it’s a farce to get what he wants. Does it matter anymore? Skye can feel himself being wound around his finger in too-tight knots, those same knots that constrict in his stomach as Gale kisses the edge of his cup, so close and yet so far away.
“I’m ready to arrive after the next full moon.”
He had plans for the full moon. They both had plans for such an occasion, that much is for certain.
Skye draws a long sip from his glass, never once breaking eye-contact. If he could see the dark that dwells underneath his teal irises, so be it. Skye wouldn’t be the first to turn away.
“And I’ll be certain to bring plenty of my special ingredient with me.”

















