Author's Note: This is my first time writing a fic for FF, so hopefully I haven't made any horrible mistakes. Feel free to notify me of any weird stuff in the fic— ! I'd really love some feedback!

Warnings: Rated M for future chapters, there will be some Lucky lovin' in here (yaoi ugugugugugugu).

Disclaimer: The main characters of this fic belong to Katsura Hoshino.

*edit: I'm a bad human for not updating in 2 years (I'm basically Hoshino now) but I want to pick this back up. I'll be editing the chapters I posted and will continue from there. Thank you for your support!*


Coffee, Chapter 1

"And... that's a wrap!"

I hear a sharp click resound through the dingy, fake bedroom as the black and white thing was snapped shut. The sheets rustle as I plop my head and back into the sheets after propping myself up. Finally.

I quickly wipe all the sweat off of my forehead with the back of my hand and try to slow down my breath. Bringing fingers to my neck, I feel swollen bruises and sigh. I can feel the stinging of scratch marks on my hips, too. Ugh.

Out of habit, I also run my hands through my hair. It's tangled and there's wet shit in it that I can't identify. Wet shit that I don't want to identify. The extremely buff guy apparently called "Skin" chuckles as he climbs off of the bed and I, wiping his ripped chest with a towel.

"Worried about your hair, Red?"

I roll my eye as dramatically as a one-eyed person can and adjust my eyepatch.

"Yeah, because you were a little too grabby. Man, I think a chunk is missing… Lay off the juice," I whine as I sit on the edge of the bed and run my fingers through my new tangles and knots.

"Whatever," the buff guy says, pulling on his boxers and jeans. As he's buttoning his pants, he smirks mischievously. "I'm not the one with jizz on my chest."

My eye darts downward. My chest is, in fact, spotted with jizz. I cringe and wipe it off with the already stained bed comforter. Upon closer inspection, the sheets look like they haven't been cleaned in ages. Shuddering, I grab my own boxers off the floor and slide them on.

I know I need rent money, but was (gag) making a porno with this shady ass company worth it? I just let some creepy bear fuck me on video. For money. And he wasn't even cute.

"Nice job, you two," the creepy looking director chuckles, fiddling with the settings on his video camera. I feel his eyes scan up and down my body as he scratches his stubbly face. I ignore him and pull on my black skinny jeans.

This guy's even dressed like a perv: gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt with mysterious stains on it. I can imagine him as one of those guys who prey on little boys in chat rooms. "We'd love to have you back for a part two, Lavi. Wouldn't we, Skin?" Really, what kind of pornstar name is that?

After seeing Skin lick his lips, I shudder and decide it's time to head home. I grab my crewneck off the floor near the bed and throw it on.
"I'll hafta turn you down on that, man. This is a strictly one time deal. And no offense, but I have somewhere to be, so… um… could I have my cash?"

As I leave that seedy building, I curse to myself. Sharp pains run through my lower back and I'm trying my hardest not to limp. At least I'm limping with $550 in my pocket. Skin must've had a good time.

My stomach grumbles and the cold evening air is freezing my ears, but I keep walking straight to the bus stop. I want to get home as soon as possible. Adjusting my thick wool scarf higher onto my face, I power walk to the stop across the street. One of the perks of living in the city is the public transportation. Buses come around every 10 minutes, so as soon as the first flurries start coming down from the night sky, the number 83 bus pulls up for me.


When I open the door to my apartment,no one other than my grumpy ass roommate is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking his tea.

As soon as he looks up at me, he sneers. "Since when do you have places to be on a Sunday night? I started to think you got kidnapped or some shit," he grumbles, crossing his toned arms.

I walk over to where he's sitting and lean against his broad shoulder. He's wearing a dingy band t-shirt and black boxers. I can tell he just got done working out; his hair is still damp and he smells like lotus blossom shampoo.

"Aww, do worry about me, Yuu!" I say enthusiastically, running my fingers through his jet black hair.

"It's Kanda, fuckboy. And get out of my hair." He shrugs me off and sips his oolong.

"Pff, we've known each other for eight years, Yuu. I'd think we'd be on first name basis by now."

"It's been eight years," Kanda mutters, "and no matter how far I run, you still won't leave me the fuck alone."

Kanda Yuu and I first met in middle school after he moved from Japan to my hometown not far from here. He didn't talk to a single kid, so the rest of the class just kinda assumed he didn't know English very well.

I thought this too until the time I stepped on his foot. It took him all of three seconds to grab me by my uniform collar and shove me against the lockers, snarling.

"Do that again and I'll kick your ass."

No matter how much he denies it, we've been joined at the hip ever since (after we were both sent to the principal for throwing punches, at least). We went to the same high school and we hung out almost everyday. When the end of our senior year rolled around, Yuu told me he was gonna "move to the city for his music" and probably "rent an apartment or whatever" and if I "needed a place to crash" I could stay with him.

So of course, I packed up all my shit, left my small town and ended up living in a shady apartment in the city with Yuu. We're doing alright here, I guess. Yuu's the bassist for his band and so far they're is getting lots of gigs.

On the other hand, I'm desperately trying to keep myself afloat by working at a little cafe downtown. The money I make there barely covers my share of the rent, so I'm pretty desperate. This $550 should keep me full and dry for a while, though.

"Anyways," the dark-haired man continued, "where the fuck have you been? We were supposed to go grocery shop-" he squints at something slightly below my face. "Is that a hickey?" He gives me a suspicious look as I slap the palm of my hand onto my neck, trying to cover it up. Shit.

"It's a rash, and I've been...out. Damn. You're just jealous 'cuz you don't have any friends to go drinking with." I say smugly, purposely pushing his buttons to get him to leave me alone.

"Tch." He rolls his eyes and gets up from his spot at the kitchen table. "One," he says, placing his teacup in the sink, "Drinking on Sunday night is for losers and lonely people. Two, since when do you have money to spare at a bar?" He quickly swipes at my pockets, and I can't stop him in time. Fuck his reflexes. Yuu pulls out a wad of five $100 bills and raises his eyebrows. "What the fuck?"

I quickly snatch it back, my cheeks reddening. "I did a quick job today because I had no cash to pay my half of the rent. Why do you care,"

Yuu squints, eying me up and down and throws the money back at me. "I knew you were a prostitute." My jaw drops. I glare at him and let out a huge groan.

"I apologize that I have a better sex life than you, but I'm not a streetwalker. Now excuse me, but I have work in the morning. Goodnight." I stomp off towards my room.

"Suit yourself, idiot." he chuckles darkly. I ignore his smartassery and shut my door behind me. I'm so tired that I fall into bed without changing into my pajamas. Whatever. I'll shower tomorrow morning.

To be continued...


Author's Note: Like I said, this is my first time posting a fic anywhere ever so thanks to blokcb for being my main weeb.

Thanks for reading!