Frappe
Misaki sat perched on the couch, the sound of fingers tapping on a keypad reverberating beside him. He held in his hand a glass of vanilla frappe. Yet another gift from Isaka. It was rather sweet.
There was a grunt in annoyance as the straw slipped, spewing a drop of the foamy liquid on his chin. The figure beside the boy noticed, raising an eyebrow.
"Here, let me clean that for you."
Before having a second to protest, cool fingers lifted up Misaki's chin, a pair of warm lips pressing against his skin, accompanied by a familiar tongue licking up the mess.
"Usagi pervert!" he screeched, attempting to scootch back from the man who was no doubt, going to make the situation worse.