Disclaimer: I don't own Super Smash Brothers: Brawl or any of the characters, and this piece of fanfiction is for the sole purpose of entertainment.

Pairing: IkeMarth
Genre: romance, humor
Rating: PG (subject to change)
Words: 1449
Warnings: homosexuality

A/N: I have accidentally made this awkward-tastic. Oh Ike, your bumbling fascination with Marth is so adorable!

A Matter of Destiny
Chapter 2: Coffee Is a Thing

Despite inferring that he liked coffee in his email, Marth ordered tea. He nursed his large ceramic mug of Darjeeling between bites of a cranberry apple scone, meticulously breaking small pieces off without making any mess. All the crumbs managed to stay perfectly contained on the plate. If Ike were the one eating that scone, there'd be a blanket of crumbs all over the table—including Marth's side.

Ike took a careful sip of his double mocha (never such a thing as too much chocolate) and regretted immensely that he didn't prepare a list of conversation topics prior to this meeting. They would have helped him a great deal, considering he was staring intently at Marth's perfectly broken scone while furiously imploring his brain to work. Oh god, what was he supposed to say?

Thankfully, Marth saved the situation by speaking to him first.

"So why did you decide to become a vet?"

Ike thanked whatever powers may be that this was a topic he was comfortable with and had much to speak about. "I love animals," he answered sincerely, a large grin spreading across his face as he thought of the shelter and all the animals they help.

Marth chuckled quietly under his breath as he popped another piece of scone into his mouth, brushing his fingertips together to shake off any lingering crumbs onto the plate. "Yeah, that's pretty obvious, you know. Your face practically shines when we have grooming duty."

Ike laughed openly while running a hand through his already mussed hair. He felt a small flush hit his face; not because he was embarrassed, but because of the way Marth's intense eyes were teasing him from across the table. Alright, he was definitely smitten. No wonder he was so nervous to send the email. His brain had already jumped to conclusions that this was a date, and not just a friendly coffee break amongst two coworkers—which it was, most definitely. It had to be. Marth was not giving him the same googly eyes he imagined he was sending at the older student.

Don't get your hopes up too much, Ike.

"No, I really love animals. I want to help them in any way I can, especially if they're hurt. I want animals to have the best lives they possibly can, and if my care and treatment helps give them the fullest life they deserve, then I can go to sleep happy knowing that I had made a difference."

The words Ike spoke were true, deep down at the very core of his being. He couldn't imagine being anything else in his life, ever since he was a child. "I guess it all started when I found a baby swallow in third grade. It had fallen out of its nest and all I wanted to do was save it."

Marth was staring at him so intently after his answer that he was almost taken aback when he looked at the other man. He blinked rather owlishly before laughing and taking another sip of his sweet, caffeinated concoction. "Like you always say, I'm a hopeless idealist, right?"

Instead of teasing him some more, Marth simply stated, "You're a very kind person, Ike."

"Yeah? You're not so bad yourself, I guess."

Ike felt his stomach go into knots when Marth smirked back. "Oh, you just haven't got to know me well enough, then."

A bold (or perhaps reckless) part of him forced the next words out of his mouth. "Guess we'll just have to keep getting coffee until I do."

Saturday coffee was now part of his weekly routine, just as much as brushing his teeth obsessively before volunteering on Thursdays because he was needlessly worried about what Marth might think of his breath.

By their fourth coffee house meeting (no, it was not a date), Ike had come to the conclusion that Marth definitely was not a coffee person. Every time, the older student ordered some herbal tea, straight with no cream or sugar, which was mildly baffling to Ike who found drinks positively unpalatable unless sweetened to the point of inducing cavities in someone with less dental strength than he. Amazingly enough, he'd never once had a cavity despite his monstrous sweet tooth. He was sure he was due many a root canal in the future once his enamel realized what it was being subjected to.

Marth, obviously the common sense in their duo (not romantic duo, mind you, just a pair of coworkers, after all), had suggested their coffee breaks be used for studying. Ike wholly approved of this because it gave him a valid excuse from having to make awkward conversation with the very intense older boy, while simultaneously extending the length of their hang outs. After all, you need hours at a time to study; hours that he used to surreptitiously stare at Marth's slender fingers as he dragged the highlighter across his print outs, and admire the way his ever-perfect hair fell over his eyebrows when he hunched over his binder. Needless to say, Ike did not get much studying done during these hours—he was getting very good at looking busy, on the plus side.

Ike was pondering whether there was a tea parlor somewhere near the university and willfully ignoring his biochemistry homework when Marth spoke.

"Want to grab lunch next weekend instead of coffee?"

The question startled Ike and he looked up from his textbook to blink dumbfounded at the boy sitting across the table. When Marth looked up at him with an arched eyebrow, he realized he hadn't said anything in reply.

"You don't like coffee, do you?" he asked instead, the words coming out of his mouth before he could fully comprehend their meaning. The question popped out of his lips because he had been thinking about the other's implied dislike of the coffee bean rather than actually replying to the very simple suggestion. It was just lunch. Coworkers eat lunch together all the time! Why, then, did Ike's palms break out in a sudden sweat and his heart try to leap up and out of his throat?

Calm down, Ike.

The corner of Marth's mouth quirked up in a smirk as he gestured towards the empty teacup with his uncapped highlighter. "No, Ike, I just buy tea because I have a vendetta against coffee producers."

Ike could feel the heat creep up his cheeks and he couldn't help but laugh at himself over his reaction, shaking his head before running a hand haphazardly through his already mussed hair. "Alright, alright. Point taken."

Marth just looked at him for a good two seconds before chuckling himself, an incredulous expression crinkling his features. "Hello, Earth to Ike. Lunch?"

"Oh!" If Ike felt any more embarrassed, he was sure he would simply wither up from the shame. "Yeah, sorry, I don't know where my brain's gone."

"Apparently to lunch itself," Marth quipped before he could finish.

The snarky comment made Ike laugh despite his overwhelming embarrassment. He could definitely do this; it was just Marth, his funny, witty, charismatic friend with the startlingly intense eyes. Nothing at all to be nervous about here.

"Well, it does have a tendency to go on breaks when it's not supposed to—like during tests. Whoo!" Ike let out an exaggerated breath as he made a big show of swiping his hand across his neck, joking his way through the awkward situation, as if humor could salve his wounded ego and make Marth forget just how harebrained he could get.

"But yeah, we could totally do lunch instead. I mean, not that I want to tear you away from your vendetta or anything like that," he added quietly at the end in a conspiratory tone.

"Oh, don't worry about me," Marth breathed as he leaned forwards, mimicking Ike's furtive tone and that small smirk once again tugging up the left corner of his mouth, "I always finish what I start."

For some reason, those words (or maybe it was the tone?) had a very alarming and unnecessary effect on Ike's body, and he was distinctly glad for the binder sprawled across his lap.

Okay, really calm down now, Ike.

While Ike was having a mental battle between his body and his dignity, Marth leaned back into his chair and resumed reading the document in his lap in preparation for his art history exam as if nothing had happened—and really, maybe nothing did at all.

"I'm not sure which day I'll be free next weekend. I'll text you when I know?"

It took all of Ike's power to swallow down the lump in his throat and say the following two syllables. "Okay."

-tbc-