Summary: It was simple. Yet because Akihiko happened to waltz in and stir things up, Minato had discovered that perhaps making smoothies as "a ways of catharsis" was not that desirable as it sounds. Especially when things start to turn awry. (Aki/Mina)
A/N: Written out of sheer boredom as a means of ridding Writer's Block and out of love for the pairing. And the fascination of rose milk on a humid evening.
Warnings: Slight profanity, shonen-ai, the rebirth of terrible cliches, and an absolutely deadly recipe for a smoothie.
Disclaimer: I don't own Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 for it solely belongs to Atlus.
a r t l e s s
a Akihiko x Minato story
By s u I k a's w I n d o f t h e c e l e s t I a l
Whirl. Whirl. Whirl.
There was a narrowing of eyes.
Whirl. Whirl. Whirl.
A furrowing of quick, fine brows.
Whirl. Whirl. Whirl.
A small, almost inaudible, harrumph had escaped from tautly pursed lips.
Whirl. Whirl. Whirl.
A small frown.
Whirl. Whirl. Wh…
And the withdrawal of smeared pale fingers.
Good heavens.
A relatively clean delicate hand had elegantly raised itself and sifted nimble fingers through soft blue tresses, brushing aside obscuring long bangs from smoky-blue eyes. A pair of silver-blue earphones had embraced delicate ears, loud ear-deafening pumping music reverberated through the soft speakers as the blue-haired boy withdrew from the apparatus he had hovered over mere minutes ago and dazedly stared at it in a delightfully listless manner.
Oh yes.
Truth be told, Minato was indeed and in fact undergoing a state of well-composed frustration.
Glancing over at the open cookbook he had courteously borrowed from Fuuka, he scanned the small text of the instructions given to make the delectable treat he had been eyeing over the past few days. He frowned yet once again, puzzled so as to why the mixture within the blender (an odd pastel blend of jumbled green, orange and sickly white) was not at all identical to the one within the vivid photography upon the book's glossy pages (which had a healthy flavoursome glow of green-yellow).
Minato tilted his head, long blue bangs falling attractively before his half-lidded eyes, and cast a look of wonder as he pressed the tip of his thumb against his lip.
Good gracious.
A blink.
What exactly had gone wrong?
Perhaps it was the machine itself, what with its blasted complex snazzy buttons here and there. Or could it be the fact that he didn't put in enough vegetables?
Hardly.
The boy had literally dumped a whole drawer full of healthy greens into the machine (it didn't hurt to add more vegetables than necessary, after all). Perhaps…
A blink.
Could it be the fact that he had improvised?
Minato looked over to the array of used bowls, knives and chopping boards upon the counter as well as the variety of food that had been carelessly tossed into the rubbish bin (all of which had prettily ranged from tofu to sour cream to potato crisps).
The boy looked back to his supposed milkshake and frowned yet once again, comparing his green-orange sickly concoction within the flask to the healthy glassful of green-yellow exoticness. His frown deepened.
Capping the blender and securely twisting it for good measure, Minato then reached over to the chocolate sauce on the counter. Now, perhaps he should add…
There was a heavy dragging of slippers across carpet.
A sluggish, clumsy fumbling of hands across wallpaper.
And a sporadic peppering of inaudible curses.
Soon, a head of dishevelled silver tufts appeared into the room where Minato stood behind the bar armed with a bottle of sickly sweet teeth-rotting chocolate syrup, precariously poising it over the small latch of the colourfully stained blender.
Eh…?
The blue-haired boy blinked, surprised with the unexpected encounter with his senior's astonishingly ragged appearance at such an early hour. Reluctantly, the boy removed his earphones and allowed them to dangle around his neck. "Senpai…" he softly acknowledged with a curt polite nod when those confused grey eyes met with his own blue-grey ones.
Blink.
Blink.
Re-focus.
A puzzled frown surfaced.
"Minato?" Akihiko merely blinked again and tiredly rubbed a sleep-clouded eye. "Dammit, what the hell are you doing up so early? It's barely even four in the morning. Are you crazy?"
A small, indiscernible frown went unnoticed.
"Same question with you, senpai." Minato merely said in a smooth enigmatic murmur as he gingerly touched the side of the blender and pursed his lips, grimacing slightly at the distasteful colour of his supposed smoothie. Ah, perhaps it was representing the colours of his patchy emotions at that peculiar moment then… Minato gazed at the gloop within the container with a distant contemplative look. Perhaps so…
"Hn."
The boy paused his train of thought and looked over to his senior, taking in his dazed form.
A loud yawn was emitted from the older boy as he shuffled over to the bar and unceremoniously plopped himself into a seat that was adjacent to the younger male, "I thought you were some freak who had managed to break into the dorms in order to peek on the girls. You're lucky that I haven't pummel you to the ground." However, as soon as he sat down though, Akihiko's nose twitched as he grimaced at the odd scent that was wafting from the blender. Caught in an appealing twist of curiosity and disgust, the boxer arched a brow and gesticulated at the grotesque sight, "Hey…what exactly is that?"
Minato blinked, puzzled by the other boy's look of perplex. His fingers impatiently fiddled with the plastic bottle within his grasp, half-heartedly allowing the long languid drips of dark sauce into the mix. "A smoothie."
Silence.
There was a slow succession of blinks.
And the faint rhythmic beats that blared from earphones.
"What?"
"A healthy smoothie."
Healthy?
Akihiko stared with incredulity, warily eyeing the concoction in appal. Upon doing so, the blue-haired boy had tilted his head in silent pondering, lacklustre eyes assessing the sickly mixture with morbid interest. And then, without a word, he further tipped over the bottle of stomach-churning sweetness into the blender and poured out all its contents.
Akihiko blanched, watching as those nimble fingers squeeze the brown bottle – dark brown sludge plopping into the mix of revolting swirls of white, orange and green. His fingers twitched inconsistently.
You call that a drink?
Strangely, such a concoction reminded him of the school nurse's disturbing brew-like remedy. Akihiko inwardly shuddered at the fleeting thought of Minato being his advocate and willingly brushed the impractical notion aside.
"Minato," he slowly started as he watched the younger boy reluctantly withdraw from his inattentive speculation of the concoction at hand (Akihiko could not help but quietly chuckle at his inadvertent play of words), to give him an impassive look of supposed interest, "You do know that that…drink is very well unfit for human consumption, right?"
A blink.
"That there is an extremely high chance where you would start retching consistently before you'll ultimately flop over…"
Another blink.
"Dead."
And another.
A slight shrug was merely given in return.
Turning his attention back to the blender mix, Minato seemed unfazed by such a hyperbolic statement. Whether he took it as a hilarity or merely dismissed it as a trivial matter, remained unknown to the silver-haired boy who sat there gawking in stupefaction as the blue-haired boy tossed the now empty bottle of chocolate sauce into the overflowing rubbish bin (Don't tell me he's actually used up the week's supply of food to make this goddamn drink!). He watched in bated breath as the younger boy slowly uncapped the blender and daintily sniffed it.
A twitch of a silver brow.
A small grimace.
And Minato, capping the blender yet once again, retreated from the appliance and opened up the overhead cupboard in order to retrieve…
Akihiko paled.
Tabasco sauce.
Oh god. What the hell is up with this guy?
"H-Hey! What are you doing with that? Put it down!" the boxer cried, suddenly standing up from his stool when the blue-haired boy began to uncap the small glass bottle as he made his way back towards the blender whose contents were, the least to say, absolutely noxious to humans. Or any living being, for that matter.
Minato simply gave an innocent blink. "I'm adding a drop of colour in it. I feel a little red at the moment."
Feel?
"That's not food colouring."
An impassive stare.
"It's Tabasco sauce. Real spicy stuff."
A nod.
"Yeah." Now be a good boy and put it down.
And he did.
Into the blender – bottle, cap and all.
Akihiko choked, watching as Minato fastened the cap securely and turned on the blender, blissfully ignorant of the pleasant bashing of glass within the container.
Unbelievable!
An exasperated huff.
That does it.
Rolling up his sleeves in a determined manner, Akihiko swiftly made his way around the bar and nudged the startled boy aside before efficiently turning off the blasted machine with a dexterous flick of a switch.
A strange silence had draped across the dim-lighted room, save for the soft soprano vocals and melancholic waves of piano that were emitting from the younger boy's earphones.
"Senpai."
It wasn't a statement nor was it question.
Akihiko looked at the other, gazing into a pair enticingly impassive grey-blue eyes whilst fleetingly acknowledging the way those full lips pursed in an oddly appealing frown.
It was a demand.
"Minato."
Without a word, the boy quietly reached over and flicked the switch on. The blender roared to life.
A frown. "Minato."
A swift tap. The blender quietened.
"Senpai."
Flick. WHIRL…!
"Minato."
Flick. Wh….
"Senpai."
Flick. WHIR-!
"Minato."
Flick. Wh.
Flick. WHIR-!
Flick. Whi..
Flick. WHIR-!
A pursuing of pliant lips.
A slight narrowing of grey-blue.
On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. On-!
"Minato! This is ridiculous, stop-!"
A swift smack was delivered against the back of a hand.
A deepening of a frown.
Struggle.
On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. On-!
A slight shove. And another.
On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. On-!
Struggle. Struggle.
A determined look.
And, in a fit of blinding rage, Minato swiftly reached over the appliance and clumsily albeit unintentionally shoved the speed tab up to the maximum.
There was an ugly crunching of glass.
An ear-deafening agonising squeal.
And a menacing toppling of nauseating green-brown-red.
Instantaneously, a twofold of joint yells occurred, closely followed by the withdrawal of stained fingers and the graceless stumbling of slippers and socks.
Watch out!
There was a widening of grey and blue.
A grasping of cotton by desperate fingers.
A soft thud ensued along with a gruff oomph!
And then–
A splash, and the beautiful coating of green-brown-red upon cotton, skin and dishevelled tousles of silver and grey.
Alas, behold.
It was the Detonation of S.E.E.S dorm history.
"Argh, dammit."
"……"
How remarkable.
In the midst of catching breaths and fighting off aftershocks, a sudden torrent of warmth had passed between the two bodies that were firmly pressed against one another, instantaneously triggering the gradual reddening of grimy cheeks.
An awkward silence wedged in, though it was quietly littered with the hushed plops of the unsuccessful smoothie that swirled from the rim of stained container and onto the carpeted floor.
Minato, albeit slightly puzzled at what was amiss and the twisted turn of events, sighed and raised himself off the other, all the while dejectedly eyeing the colourful splodges on the older boy's shirt.
It was ironic. How the causal relationship between the fall of his smoothie and the spill of his emotions just mere moments ago were strikingly corresponding.
"You okay?"
Peering through damp blue bangs, Minato surveyed the older boy and saw just how ridiculous he looked then – skin and clothes smudged and dampened with grim colours, dirty silver locks now stuck up in odd yet attractive angles (in courtesy of the awkward hand that kept running through them), the incredulous look that was conveyed through wide grey eyes. He sniffed, and grimaced a little.
What a strange (unpleasant? – Minato dared not to comment on that. He oddly believed that all smells have their own share of beauty in some ways or another, just as books and paintings do) smell.
Slowly, he nodded and sat up, giving enough room for the other boy to pull himself from the floor. He watched as Akihiko glanced over to the puddle of muck near them and surveyed their current grubby states. A puckered brow could be detected. A look of hidden disgust. Seeing this, Minato slouched his shoulders and sulked. (Failed, he couldn't believe he had actually failed to make a simple smoothie. How debasing.)
A small defeated sigh.
"Well…it's no use crying over spilt smoothie, I guess. But hey, I just saved you from committing unintentional suicide, you know?" the silver-haired boxer commented with an awkward smile as he reached over to one of the drawers of the counter and pulled out a couple of tea towels, "Come on. The girls won't be happy if they find this mess. I suggest we should clean up."
A half-hearted nod was simply returned as Minato further sulked, the heavy cloud of depression that hung over his head had now graciously draped itself over his cringing form, engulfing him in its suffocating embrace.
The boy hung his head in shame.
How humiliating. Especially in front of Akihiko-sen…
Minato blinked at the ginger touch of clothed fingers against his jaw and looked up, soon to find himself submerged into a pair of steely grey eyes which were intently looking at his lips, each bearing a glint of hard-boiled determination and…something else.
"Chocolate…"
What…?
Another blink of impassive blue-grey eyes was made as the younger boy slowly made a move to touch his lips when Akihiko suddenly leaned in and, with an almost nonexistent gentle brush of his slightly chapped lips across his own, placed a small tentative yet spine-tingling lick at the corner of his mouth.
Thump.
Akihiko shuddered as his taste buds tingled from the aftertaste of the smoothie drop. Oh god…
He exhaled, grimacing at the carpet between them.
It really does taste bad.
Fighting the urge to gag and retch on situ, he then looked up at the blue-haired boy before him, only to be taken aback as for the first time, the youth had conveyed a particular clear-cut emotion from that usually ambiguous pokerfaced visage.
The boy was flustered.
With a faint blush dusted upon those pale refined cheeks and a hesitant moistening of those alluringly shapely lips, Akihiko could not deny the fact that the younger boy looked undoubtedly pretty then. In fact, he always had. Always is.
Steel grey eyes softened.
Why hadn't I…?
Minato stiffened, a languid tremor of delight had simultaneously rushed down his spine, as he attempted to extract himself from the boxer's hold (somehow the older boy had shrewdly managed to hold his wrist captive with his other hand), his startled eyes stared up into the older boy's in disbelief. "S-Senpai, wha–wh…"
A cease of struggle.
A hold his breath.
A gentle pressure was applied against a smooth tense jaw.
"Wait, you've got a…right here…"
And with that, Akihiko gently pulled the Minato closer and silenced him with a tender, chaste kiss.
A/N: I believe I may have gone a little bit (a LOT) overboard with the two guys, in particular Minato. I couldn't help it – I just found this Minato too humorous to pass up. And so, I have destroyed him. Ah, how tragic. Never mind, he still gets a kiss. How lucky.