There can't be anything in his coffee except coffee. The stronger, the better in his opinion.
And in his, there must be cream and at least two spoonfuls of sugar. Honey will suffice if it's raining outside.
Each respective cup and its contents fit their personality.
Plain, white, efficient.
A cartoon bunny dancing.
The one time they moved their business meeting to an upscale public café, disaster struck. Well, "disaster" by his definition, "an experience" in his definition.
The two men gave their drink order to the young waitress.
Black.
Cream and two sugars.
The waitress returned and set their cups down before them, careful to avoid the papers scattered already between them, like a bridge connecting them. The cups were curved, shapely, white, and identical.
They both reached over to take a sip – and nearly spat out their drink immediately. Their faces, like the cups, mirrored the same expression: disgust. "How can you drink that?!" They spoke in unison.
Then his face morphed into a scowl, his jaw set as he readied his tongue to properly lash the foolish waitress.
And his face changed into one of amusement as he sat back in his chair. "Oh, leave her be, it was an honest mistake, Kaiba-boy." He purred to the youth before him.
"How difficult is it to keep two distinct orders separate?" Kaiba snapped back.
He reached over and switched their cups, nodding at the action. "There, problem solved."
Silence.
"I will not drink out of a cup that was touched by your lips, Pegasus." He growled before turning, prepared to call the waitress.
"Oh," the silver haired man held his hand to his heart, "how you wound me! I assure you, Kaiba-boy, if I wanted to poison you then I'd find a more…fitting manner."
The brunette raised a brow slightly. He wasn't sure if he should find that disturbing or if it was just the lingering taste of sugar on his tongue that made his nose crinkle. "I'm more concerned about your germs."
"And not that I would poison you?! How far we've grown for that not to be your first thought. I'm rather touched actually." He picked up his cup, the identical one by outward appearance, and stared the other CEO down. Then as if to make a point, he latched his lips on the same spot Kaiba's had been moments ago and drank.
Something flashed over his eyes. "Touched in the head is more appropriate." This time, however, he didn't try to flag down the waitress. Instead, he turned his attention back to the papers and fine print.
Pegasus smiled. He knew it was only a matter of time before the lad gave in and consumed his drink, regardless of whether or not Pegasus' lips had touched it. He let his attention slip back to the contract.
It went on like this for several minutes, the only noise being the occasional shift of papers or scratching out of sections. It almost became a trance, the way they both worked. The waitress, for better or for worse, didn't drop by yet.
In mid-sentence, Pegasus reached over for his coffee and sipped it casually. Kaiba, being in his own ritualistic process of re-reading twice, copied the older CEO's movements without much thought. It was only when the hot, bitter liquid spilled over his tongue did he feel relief in the taste, then awareness. His lips were where Pegasus' had been.
Kaiba scowled against the cup before he put it down with a sharp 'clink', refusing to look up and see that damn smirk on Pegasus' face. The harsh movement, however, made a bit of the coffee jump and escape over the edge. Within moments there was a ring of coffee on one of the papers.
Growl.
No matter, it was just a rough draft – given the amount of red ink he had spilt over it already.
It was too tempting not to provoke further. "I suppose it's true about what they say of old folk." Pegasus looked over as he set his pen aside. "They simply can't function without their cup of coffee."
If looks could kill, Kaiba would have been dining with a corpse. "You're older than I am, Pegasus."
"Ah, but young at heart, Kaiba-boy." The silver man emphasized on the last bit, the irony.
Without missing a beat, Kaiba responded, "Not with the amount of cream you drink with that swill."
"Worried that I might drop dead before our next deal?"
"I'm more concerned about how desperate you seem to think I care about your health, mental or otherwise, at all."
A chuckle, another sip. This time, Kaiba mirrored after he turned the cup around. "But you're concerned." Pegasus pointed out.
Another scowl.
More paper shuffling, pen scratching.
"I'll have to finish this another time, I've got a meeting soon." Kaiba started to put together his draft of the contract.
"Fine, but then I must recommend meeting at my place next time to finish this. Don't worry, Kaiba-boy, I won't try to kill you with any cream in your coffee." Pause. "Just copious amounts of sugar."
"If you do either then you will be wearing it before it can dissolve."
"Tsk, tsk, come now Kaiba-boy, allow me to give you a little sugar."
"Pegasus." A warning growl.
"Fine, fine. I'll have Croquet brew a fresh pot at nine sharp tomorrow morning. Be there before I toss a honeycomb into the entire thing." Another slow slip, taunting, teasing.
"Honey?" Kaiba raised a brow.
Pegasus nodded. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow."
"Hm." Click of the briefcase. "Tomorrow then." The chair scraped as he stood.
With a grin, Pegasus nodded to confirm. Then, unable to resist the last time to antagonize as Kaiba started to walk out of the café, he called out loudly, "I've often wondered what your lips taste like, Kaiba-boy, and I'm quite glad to have found out today."
Without turning around, Pegasus knew he had forced the young CEO to freeze mid-step. He also knew that the other people in the café looked over before whispering once more. There was an angry shove of the bell and then the brunette was gone.
It was well worth whatever hell he had to pay tomorrow though. Pegasus smiled as he drained the last bit of his coffee, sitting back in his chair. Kaiba's lips tasted sweet…