Sex and Coffee
She smelled like sex and coffee.
Sex from the bed sheets and the room, where they had been joined together last night, yet another night, because of their needs, they knew no one else could satisfy, and coffee from the black cup she just drank when she was making another one for him downstairs. The smell lingered in her blonde locks, and he rather liked it.
She always smelled like sex and coffee when he woke up from his slumber, after having, half awake, half asleep, been listening to her fiddle around downstairs, and the constant noise from the coffee maker. When she entered the room with two hot coffees, the black cup for him, and the pink one for her, he sat up in bed, taking a sip from the cup immediately, though he knew he'd burn his tongue.
He loved coffee. And he loved sex. Which meant he seriously loved her and the way she smelled. He hated the fucking government for implying that coffee is good, though it makes your teeth look yellow, instead of chocolate, which make you gain a few pounds, but as stupid as he was, he had as a child swore he would never drink coffee, but after she made it for him, for the first time, he changed his mind, and now he loved it just as much as he loved her.
It was the same with sex really. When he was young, and they first learned about the birds and the bees, all the boys still believed that the girls had cooties, and that they would never touch one, not for play, or not for marriage, and that if they did, they would die. But he had changed his mind about sex, the same way he had changed his mind about coffee, and it was all down to her, really.
She made him say and do things he never thought he'd do, things he swore off as a child, like having sex and drinking coffee. And he did it all with her. They had sex during the night, and when he woke up again, she had the coffee ready, and he drank that, like he had sex, all because of her.
He often wondered why he got the black cup, and she got the pink one. Even though the answer seemed very obvious, he still didn't understand the difference between girls and guys. It wasn't like the girls had cooties, like he had liked to believe when he was a child, and why did she always get the pink mug? It had her name engraved in it, and he was the one who bought it for her, but he still wondered. And why, really, why didn't he have a blue cup wit his name engraved in it, that she got for him?
He took another sip of the black coffee, and as always, he placed his black (not pink) cup on the table next to the bed, and turned to her, just as she placed her pink cup on the table as well, turning to look at him. Her hair was spilling down her neck in a way he found very attractive, and he often thought that it was weird. When she looked all messy in the morning, before her shower, before she took clothes on, and before she did her makeup, he always found her attractive.
But then again, it was probably that smell. The sex and the coffee. He always thought to himself, that if he could bottle it up and have it with him forever, he could sell it and be the richest man in the world. Which man wouldn't want to have that smell every morning? And even if he couldn't sell it and be the richest man in the world, because all the other men didn't like that smell every morning, he'd still have it to himself, and she could put it on after she had showered, and dressed, and done her makeup, and that way she could smell like sex and coffee all day long.
"You like the coffee?" she asked, as always, letting him know that he better did, because otherwise she just wouldn't make it again for him.
And as always, he nodded, and pulled her head towards his, placing his lips on hers. She tasted like coffee too. The strong taste going very well with her sweet one, and suddenly he didn't hate the fucking government that much, for saying that coffee is good, even though it makes your teeth yellow, because he rather liked the mix he got every morning. Something told him that her sweet taste mixed with chocolate, just wouldn't be the same.
It was sex and coffee, always sex and coffee, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Maybe someday he'd get a blue mug with his name engraved in it from her, but if he didn't, that was okay too. Maybe he'd even find a way to capture her smell, and maybe he wouldn't. That was okay too, because as long as he had her, he had sex and coffee.
Okay, so I have no fucking idea of why I wrote that. I woke up at 7:30 in the morning, with ideas and practically written paragraphs in my head. I tried to get back to sleep, but it wouldn't leave me alone. So I found myself sitting in front of the computer with a hot chocolate (ironic, isn't it?) 15 minutes later writing this down. Then I left it alone for the rest of the day and came back to read through it and write this incredibly long author's note. I still don't like the outcome completely, and when I think about it, this could be any couple really, since I don't mention any names. It has Chadpay written all over it though, so that's what it is.
I find myself inspired my the awesome Chadpay writer StarVitamin – read the stories right NOW! You'll find nothing better.
Please give me your thoughts, I got up at 7:30, even though it's my vacation, so I think I deserve it, don't you?
Counting from now on, this is my second Chadpay, and I think it's better than the first one.
I don't own High School Musical, Disney or anything associated with it, that's why I write these, to hope that maybe people will start to believe that the Chadpay pairing is the best pairing you can find.