Chapter 2

It had been nearly a week since Dio drove Jonathan away with his saliva and frankly, after his initial high, he felt... Bored. Empty even. The thought of ruining some hapless hipster's drink was tempting, but it didn't really feel worth the risk. Dio was not the type to cause mayhem for just anyone, or at least not at his own expense. No, if Dio were ever to feel that satisfaction again he needed to find someone worth it. Someone he could truly hate. A nemesis, if you will.

With that thought, Dio leaned against the counter gracefully, his slender fingers cradling his face as he scanned Stone Mask. At this hour, there were hardly any patrons, and even less of those patrons were even worth a second glance.

There was one man with the most hideous dye job Dio had ever seen, a pink and purple mess that looked vaguely like an octopus. It was as if this man had slipped into a scene phase as part of his mid-life crisis. This in and of itself should be enough for Dio to hate him more than the average person, yet somehow all he felt was confusion and a kind of begrudged respect. He could not imagine the confidence or sheer indifference it took to walk out of the house with that on your head. And then there was the man with the grills. "GO GO ZEPPELI!" they read, and Dio wished "Zeppeli" would just go go far away from the shop and take his aggravating laugh with him. He might be the perfect target, but his visits were infrequent and he was always accompanied by a sardonic young man who seemed too sharp to fool, and was in the habit of glaring at Dio as if he knew him and had every reason to hate him. Dio was running out of options, and his gaze fell on a refined looking businessman imbibing an espresso in the corner. He looked pretty well-off, which was one of the factors in Dio's hatred for Jonathan, but his daring skull patterned tie was just too stylish. No, Dio would have trouble despising someone with such impeccable taste.

Dio's reverie was broken by the melodic chime of the door. As he straightened, he shifted his gaze towards the fresh meat and was met with sunshine and sapphires. He froze, save for his eyes which threatened to pop out of his skull.

What the fuck was Jonathan doing here?

Stunned, he watched as Jonathan approached the counter, displaying absolutely no ill intent, or at least none Dio could detect behind his dazzling smile. Could it be possible he didn't even notice the spit? Dio could not recall ever having someone spit in his drink... But maybe that just meant it was more unnoticeable than he expected. Perhaps he was not the only barista that did this, perhaps it was completely normal...

"Good afternoon, Dio!" Jonathan's voice was like a cool summer breeze, bright and refreshing. Dio could barely breathe.

"Ah... Jonathan... What brings you back here?" Dio felt nauseous.

Jonathan looked puzzled, his eyebrows furrowed, and his plump lips twisted into a slight frown. Dio stared, and felt his confusion mirrored on his own face, though of course Dio was baffled not by his own question, or even solely by Jonathan's purpose here, but by his inability to stop his heart from pounding.

"I'm... Here for the coffee?" Jonathan smiled but his eyes were still uncertain. "Is there some other reason I would be here?"

Dio licked his lips.

"Oh well of course not..." He smirked as if he had intended his question to be a joke all along, but he couldn't calm down. It was obvious the stupid oaf hadn't noticed his tampering... But the fact that he still thought the coffee was good... Dio's chest fluttered. It must be a side effect of his disgust for Jonathan. Dio coughed.

"Anyways, what can I get for you today?"

Jonathan laughed lightly and easily. His whole body shook, and his eyes sparkled. There was no way he could be so sincere. It just wasn't... Dio found he was holding his breath, and just as soon as he let it go Jonathan stopped laughing. Dio felt as if he had missed something precious and silently cursed Jonathan for taking whatever it was away from him.

"I'll have a large French vanilla latte with extra cream... But I was hoping you could recommend a pastry to me? I always end up having the same thing and I was wondering if you could help me?" He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously and Dio watched as his expensive shirt tightened on his large muscles.

Who was this man and how could he be this honest? There had to be some trick, there had to be some reason he was being this nice to Dio. Suspicion boiled inside him, accompanied with a strong wave of his usual hatred and... Something else. Whatever it was it made him sick.

Dio tried to smile back, but his grin faltered. "Right... Well I think these cinnamon buns might be a good fit for you." Repulsively sweet with a stickiness that was near impossible to wash off and be rid of.

Jonathan's eyes widened with anticipation and his expression became even more radiant if that was humanly possible. "That sounds great! I think I will have one of those thank you."

Dio nodded. "That's $8.42."

They briefly exchanged the cash and Dio turned away from the counter. He was dizzy. He wanted desperately to steady himself, but Jonathan was right there, there was no way he could show this weakness to him. The worst part of it was he had no clue why he was so affected. It was apparent Jonathan was not here to report him, but he still felt anxious and so so sick. Dio just wanted him out of his life so he could stop feeling this way. He had only one option open to him...

Spit in Jonathan's coffee. Again.

Once more, Dio turned a watchful eye towards the rest of the cafe to be sure he wouldn't be caught. The absence of a certain bicycle outside informed him that Erina had gone on her lunch break already, so he need not fear her saintly eyes. It was actually incredible how little attention was given towards he, Dio, at any given moment. If it weren't for the unethical nature of his current actions, he would be insulted, but, as it was, this seemed like a very good thing. If this was always the case, perhaps he need not be so furtive...

He continued with his plan very quickly and quietly, with almost none of the intoxicating elation he felt before. The loud shaking and whirling of the coffee machine matched Dio's imperceptible trembling. He just wanted Jonathan gone and yet as he was stirring the drink the image of his saliva in Jonathan's mouth came unbidden to his mind and sent shivers down his spine. It reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. No matter, he didn't have time to dwell on these things, he just wanted to hurry up and remove Jonathan from the premises.

He whirled back towards the display case of baked goods and selected the smallest, most pathetic cinnamon bun, with barely a drizzle of icing. Dio lifted his eyes slightly to watch Jonathan's reaction as he did so, but if he was disappointed in any way he didn't show it. Dio straightened and placed the bag and the coffee on the counter between he and Jonathan. His stomach twisted as their eyes met and he wondered briefly if vomiting on a customer would be a better way to get them to never return. Despite himself, he asked a question.

"So... Last time. You liked the coffee?" Dio's voice sounded level and steady to his own ears and he silently praised himself for his good performance in adversity.

Jonathan looked perplexed. He then smiled and tilted his head slightly like the most lovable puppy in the entire world might.

"Yes of course I liked the coffee! It was sweet!" He explained as he licked his lips causing Dio's eyes to flicker towards them.

Dio's eyed widened, and his breath caught in his throat. Amidst the screeching inside Dio's mind, he realized what it was the tampered coffee reminded him of. An indirect kiss.

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