Munkustrap always associated the smell of roasting coffee with Demeter's kitchen in the early hours of sunrise, not with these little side-street cafes with faded sunlit storefronts. Perhaps that was why his mind refused to cease its wandering, resisting all of his attempts to reel it back in. All he could think about were early mornings spent in dusty sunlight, with freshly roasted coffee and black and gold fur only barely visible under the thin white fabric of a wrinkled dress shirt-

His thoughts were forcibly snapped back to the current time and place as his coffee was set in front of him. He looked up from the squat, bowl-like mug and gave his server a smile.

"You even remembered how I take it," he said with a sense of fondness, and maybe a hint of mockery. The barista chuckled as he leaned against the seating end of the counter, cocking his hip in a way that had become second nature.

"You've taken your coffee the exact same way since you were fifteen, Munk," the Rum Tum Tugger laughed, crossing his arms. "I'm not that dense."

In a fit of either brotherly compassion or immense self-restraint, he chose to hold his tongue on that, instead busying himself with taking the first sip of his coffee. He relished in the heavy taste of cream and in the granules of sweetener that hadn't quite dissolved with Tugger's stirs.

Tugger busied himself with cleaning some of the bowl-like mugs stacked by the sink. It was the first time he'd ever seen his younger brother clean anything, and he couldn't help but stop and cock his head at the sight, holding the coffee to his mouth. It took Tugger a few moments and several mugs set on the drying rack to realize he was being watched, and he couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Munkustrap's face.

"You're gonna give me a complex," he said, continuing his mindless work.

"Sorry, just trying to figure out who you are and what you've done with my brother," he responded, taking another sip and watching Tugger over the rim of his mug. The maine coon rolled his eyes, drying his wet hands with a paper towel. He looked like he had something to say to that, but being the only employee in the shop with his coworker on a break, he was distracted by a customer before he had a chance to get it out.

After coffee had been poured and served, that charming wily grin earning him a few stray coins dropped into his tip cup, he wandered back with a swagger.

Before Tugger could say anything about his previous comment, Munkustrap spoke up again. "I thought you'd quit this job in a few weeks for sure," he said, swirling his coffee idly around in its cup. The addition of 'like all of the other ones' went unspoken. "What made you hold on to this one?"

A toss of the head and a small grin, not looking directly at him but at the street beyond the dusty glass. "We can't all have fancy law degrees," he replied, crossing one ankle over the other and leaning all of his weight onto the palms of his hands pressed into the edge of the counter. "Gotta pay the bills somehow."

There was definite truth in that, but Munkustrap could see that it was just a part-truth immediately. Even when he had those bills to pay, Tugger always found a way to get them paid, whether he had a job or not. It had never really been a concern of his in the past- the simple fact that he had been through so many jobs was testament to that. Tugger lived life in the moment, perhaps more wildly than he should, because it was that same mentality that had barely dragged him through high school and had made him turn his back on the college life. Not that Munkustrap could picture his brother on the same path as him- wearing a suit and tie and working nine-to-five from Monday to Friday. Somehow, the life of a small coffee shop barista seemed to suit him more, although the sight of him in an apron was still an amusing one.

"You should take a picture," Tugger said with a snort, scrutinizing his claws and occasionally sparing glances out the front window or at the digital clock hanging on the wall. "It would last-"

The bell rang above the door and his ears immediately perked, his train of thought lost completely. Munkustrap couldn't accuse his brother of having a long attention span, but it was a curiosity nonetheless, even moreso when he turned around in his seat to see what he had been watching the storefront for his entire visit for.

He looked like any of the other customers who had passed through while Munkustrap had been sitting at the end of the counter; young, affluent, and desperately in need of caffeine. The cafe was shoved into the corner of a series of back streets, but the intersection of the performing arts college and the local university campus- both on opposite ends of the same block- kept it in the black. The skintight black spandex that clothed him head to toe other than the fur-rimmed white jacket thrown on over it told the tabby that he was likely a member of the former, desperately hoping it wasn't just some strange new fashion trend he had avoided noticing until that moment. All in all, he wasn't the sort of customer Munkustrap would have looked at twice if it hadn't been for the way Tugger's eyes locked onto him at the moment of entry and refused to avert, even as the cat in question slipped easily back into his cocky and confident persona as opposed to the image of an excited schoolgirl.

The little black and white tom walked up to the front counter, wallet already in hand. He had all of the familiarity of a regular customer, and judging by the way he and Tugger regarded each other across the wood and plastic barrier, this was all part of some daily ritual. "Morning, Sparkles," the coon greeted with a grin bordering on the lecherous.

"Good morning, Tugger," the tuxedo returned with an airy sort of 'try harder' tone, distinctly not biting. "One large-"

Tugger put a finger to his lips. "Please, Mistoffelees, you wound me," he said, putting his hands over his heart. "One large dark roast with cream and sugar, and a chocolate chip muffin."

From the counter beside him a take-away cup and a brown paper bag were produced and handed over, not without a look of surprise on the part of the customer. "Well," he said with a pleased air. "Maybe you can teach an old cat new tricks."

Munkustrap expected some manner of retaliation at the 'old' comment, even just a bristling of his fur or a lashing of his tail, but Tugger's grin didn't even falter as he leaned across the counter with his hands clasped together. If this Mistoffelees minded the clear invasion of his personal space, he didn't say anything, or show it. "That'll be ₤2, but I'll make this one-time special offer just for you; free in exchange for a kiss."

He puckered his lips almost comically, and Mistoffelees regarded him with a raised eyebrow and an amused turn of the lips. "It stopped being special after the first dozen times, Tugger," he said with a slight shake of the head, pressing a ₤5 note to his puckered lips and snatching the cup and paper bag from his hands. The tiny tuxedo took a few steps backwards, in the direction of the door. "Keep the change. Buy yourself something nice."

"I always have to, after you break my heart like this," Tugger called after him as the door jingled again, and the black and white form disappeared past uncleaned windows and around the corner. With a small, barely noticeable sigh, he made the change and tossed it into his tip cup.

Munkustrap stared at his brother with an almost comical level of awe, which Tugger took a few moments and a double-take to notice. When he did, he slotted his thumbs into his belt, cocked his hip, and raised an eyebrow at the older cat.

"Something wrong?" he asked. "You're letting your coffee get cold."

The tabby shook his head, both a response and a way of clearing it, although his purely dumbfounded grin remained plastered on his face. "Nothing," he said. "Just.. if I'd known all it took to keep you at a job was a cute college student, I would have scoured every campus on this side of the country."

He barely managed to dodge a stale scone thrown directly at his head, which then bounced off of the front window and into the garbage can below. Tugger grinned like it had been intentional, then seemed to remember why he had thrown the pastry in the first place, his expression becoming as impassive as he could manage.

"I'm not some lovestruck teenager, Munk," he said, accompanied by something that could only be described as a pout. "Mistoffelees may be one of the perks of the job, but he's not why I'm still here. He just makes my weekday mornings a little less boring."

The corners of Munkustrap's mouth twitched, but he nodded like he believed him. He pointedly didn't mention the fact that Tugger had taken the time to learn the kid's name, something he didn't even always do with the toms and queens he took to bed, nor the fact that he remembered exactly how he took his coffee, something it had taken him more then ten years to learn for his own brother. No, he didn't mention any of that; he did, however, let a single brief chuckle slip out. When Tugger turned back to him with an eyebrow raised, he couldn't help but smile at his brother.

"I think I'll take one of those scones," he said, setting aside his now cold half-filled cup of coffee. "Preferably served on a napkin instead of thrown at my head."

Tugger scoffed as he walked over to the baked goods display case. "Stop pushing it, or I can't make any promises."