Moon-daisuki prompted me with "a coffee date moment" on Tumblr. Thanks for the prompt, and I hope you enjoy!
It was kind of a weird habit, Mamoru could admit. Studying at an arcade when Juban had no shortage of bougie coffeeshops to choose from. And when he lived by himself in a comfortable, quiet apartment with a fancy coffeemaker, where he didn't have to fight for table space or a place to plug his laptop in.
But, one day in primary school, a cheerful, sandy-haired boy had invited the quiet, shy new kid to his parents' arcade after school. Even then, Mamoru didn't let people in easily. Most of his new classmates only wanted to talk to him about his amnesia, which, to them, sounded like something cool they'd seen on TV. Beyond that, they weren't interested in the weird boy from the children's home, and that suited him fine. Or so he told himself.
Motoki was the exception. He was always there, with his friendly chatter and insistence on sitting with Mamoru at recess and at lunch, showing him his action figures and wordlessly sharing his mother's homemade onigiri with him.
The first time Mamoru went to the arcade with Motoki after school was a freezing day in January. He stood by silently, looking from the kind-eyed woman who came out from behind and counter and wrapped Motoki in a hug to the redheaded baby cooing and babbling in a bright playpen in the corner full of bright toys and stuffed animals.
Both filled him with a longing he wouldn't be able to articulate for years.
The woman turned to him, smiling. "You must be Mamoru." He tensed, prepared for the familiar pity and probing questions, but they didn't come. Instead, she gestured to the barstools at the counter. "Come, sit up here. It's freezing outside. I'll make you and Motoki some hot chocolate."
Since then, the Crown Arcade and Fruit Parlor had been the closest thing Mamoru had to a home. When he and Motoki went to different high schools, Mamoru took to bringing his homework to the arcade, poring over his textbooks as Motoki started to work more hours behind the counter.
Until today, though, Mamoru hadn't been at the Crown in weeks. Not since that day when he'd asked his best friend how to get the love of his life to hate him and spent hours on an empty rooftop, hot tears dripping onto his motorcycle helmet as his heart shattered again and again.
Even though Motoki didn't know the extent of the pain Mamoru had caused Usagi that day, Mamoru had still been too ashamed to face him since. Motoki always respected Mamoru's walls and never pried, but it was clear that he was disappointed in him for how he was treating Usagi.
If only Motoki knew how much Mamoru had hated himself for his behavior, too.
But, things were different now. After last night, after Mamoru finally, finally gave in and melted back into her arms and onto her lips where he belonged.
They were still supposed to be staying away from each other. But, neither of them had ever been very good at that.
Mamoru could feel Usagi's presence the moment the Crown's doors slid open—those goosebumps on his skin and that tug in his heart that had always drawn him to her.
She was at her usual table with the girls, halfway through a chocolate milkshake.
She clearly felt his presence, too. Her head shot up from her milkshake, and she locked eyes with him across the room, a blush staining her cheeks. For the first time in months, Mamoru didn't look away coldly and filled with shame. Instead, he smiled and mouthed "hi", the heat of his own blush warming his skin.
He didn't go to her, unsure what the senshi knew about their reconciliation, content, for now, to just be in her presence without that constant ache in his heart. Content with some semblance of normalcy.
He tried to look nonchalant as he approached the counter. Motoki raised an eyebrow before he wordlessly poured him a cup of coffee and slid it across the counter. "Good to have you back."
Motoki never pried.
An hour later, Mamoru had made it through a few chapters of anatomy homework, his textbook, notebook, and pencils spread neatly across his corner table, when another steaming mug appeared in front of him, and his eyes shot up to meet Usagi's.
She sat in the chair across from him, a soft smile on her lips. "I thought you could use a coffee break."
Mamoru's heart pounded at her closeness, at how much he wanted to reach out and touch her. "Thank you."
He didn't know how to navigate this new space between not broken up and not technically together. He was torn between wanting to kiss her senseless and reminding her that she should stay away. That they should stay away.
Usagi took a sip from her own mug.
"I didn't know that you drank coffee," he murmured. He had died for this woman, would do it again, but there were so many little things he still didn't know. Things that normal people, the kind of people who didn't have fate constantly trying to tear them apart, learn about their partners during those first few weeks of a relationship.
"I didn't. Until…well, it reminded me of you. When we were…you know…"
The rush of guilt and painful memories came to him like a flood. Telling her he didn't like weak girls. Ignoring her when they ran into each other on the street or in a store. Her anguished face in his motorcycle's rearview mirror as he again denied the only love he'd ever known.
This time, he didn't hesitate, and he reached for her across the table, entwining his fingers with hers and squeezing her hand. His body nearly shuddered with relief at the feel of her skin on his.
"Usako," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."
She squeezed back. "I know, Mamo-chan. I know."