Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews! I'm overseas, so updating might be a little slow for a while!
Warnings: Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. Oh, and cursing.
Pairing(s): IkeMarth. Others will depend on the story's progress and your suggestions.
Disclaimer: I don't own Super Smash Brothers.
Summary: Teaching assistants, hours at the coffeehouse, graduate programs, undergraduate tutoring, medical students… no one ever thought there was more to college than academics and work.
Mechanism
By SSBBSwords
"…And at three o'clock, they put out new pastries," the blond informed conversationally, walking into the coffeehouse.
Having glanced upward to confirm incoming customers, Ike then dropped a muffin sideways on its croissant relatives.
"Proof that you are spending way too much time here," the blue-haired student retorted, having followed a couple steps behind, much less enthused about having to deviate from his routine.
Ike checked the time. Afternoon. On a Wednesday. What? And why was he accompanying a blond, of all things—uh, people.
He looked nice today. Or, perhaps, he looked nice relative to Wednesday afternoons (so as to be independent in comparison to Fridays). Ike fixed the lopsided muffin in its place and eyed the other's neat appearance and—
"Excuse me."
Oh, fuck! The muffin dropped off the second level in the display case and, with a bounce, hit his apron onto the first level.
The blond had the nerve to look very entertained. "Double-shot espresso."
I'll give you two shots, Ike thought immediately, irritated, and punched the buttons on the machine a little harder than necessary. Leaving the cup under to catch the flow, he turned to take the other student's order.
"Ike, how are you?"
The junior felt a disturbing urge to melt right then and there. Restraining himself, he felt his mood lighten considerably. "Good…" He didn't know how much he could say without doing something stupid and uncool. Great. He had reverted back to middle-school mentality. "What can I get you?"
This took some considering on the other's part. "That muffin." This was emphasized with a tap on the pastry case's glass.
Reaching for one in the recently organized second level, Ike was surprised when the shorter student shook his head and reiterated, "The delinquent one."
Wordlessly, Ike dropped the specific muffin into a paper bag. No, he didn't think the guy was cute. Not in the least. Just…
Noticing the stream of coffee from the machine ceasing, the blond turned to his companion and chuckled. "You are so weird."
Well, weird wouldn't have been Ike's exact description, but…
The blue-haired young man shrugged. "It looked out of place."
… endearing? What the fuck was wrong with him? Ike absently capped the blond's drink and rung up the purchases.
"Thanks."
When the two departed, Ike returned to his task of stacking fresh pastries. A minute later, the blond returned to the counter as if having forgotten something.
"Looking for something?" the undergraduate asked dryly, not questioning his distaste for this person.
"Not exactly," Link replied cryptically. "By the way, is there something interesting about my roommate?"
Caught? Ike swallowed nervously. "Who?"
"The guy you keep staring at," the blond detailed more precisely, all while smiling good-naturedly.
"I…" the junior hesitated. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Link's eyes narrowed, all cordiality deserting his expression. "Well, stop it. It's creepy."
Ike froze in shock, and, with another intimidating gaze, the older student turned around and left as smoothly as he had entered.
Shit. Why did a chill run down his spine just now?
"Hey."
His writing hand paused in mid-equation, and Marth looked up from the chemistry textbook in order to pinpoint the unfamiliar voice. His eyes landed first on the matching book held carelessly in the stranger's grip.
"Hello," Marth finally replied after scrutinizing the other student's red hair. "Can I help you?"
The undergraduate ran a free hand through his fiery strands, further mussing the mop of spikes. "Yeah, actually, you're in the same chem as me, right?"
The question sounded a little off, and Marth's left eyebrow lifted a centimeter. "Yes…" Technically speaking.
A smile spread across the teenager's face. "Perfect!" the redhead looked cheerful, and then the rest of his words came in an unexpected flash. "Can we study together?"
Marth blinked in disbelief. "Ah… I believe…"
"By the way, name's Roy. What's yours?"
The graduate student set down his pen and tried to understand what exactly was happening. Obviously, this poor student had made a miscalculation on his age (and academic standing).
"Marth," he answered automatically, ignoring Roy's interjection of 'That's a cool name,' and continued in a softer tone, "Roy, I believe there's a small mistake."
The shorter student's expression darkened as a frown marred his previously cheerful features. "Okay, just 'cause I look dumb doesn't mean I am. What a—"
This time, Marth interrupted him, keeping his voice even and calm. "No, it's not that. I attend your chem lectures, true, and I may look like I'm studying the material, but I'm actually just preparing for my discussion sections."
Roy's face blanked for a couple seconds as if the cognitive procedure went awry and resulted in brainwashing. Then his eyebrows knitted in bemusement. "You lost me. I don't get it."
"I'm one of the TAs for your chemistry course."
It took about half a minute for the information to sink, and then it dawned on Roy, who unceremoniously gaped at Marth. "What? That makes you…"
"A graduate student," Marth supplied helpfully.
"Old!"
Marth's eyes widened comically. Eh? He tried to remember how he considered his TAs when he was an undergraduate. Did he think they were old too? "That's one way to put it… I guess."
"No! I mean, not that you look it, or… I mean, obviously you don't, but… oh, fuck," Roy rambled, half to Marth and half to himself, hence the unabashed curse word. "H-how old are you?" The redhead asked timidly.
For some reason, Marth didn't want to disclose his age. Nevertheless, he had a bad habit (damn you, teaching experience) of honestly answering any question thrown his way. "Twenty-five."
"That's not old," Roy actively contradicted himself, but given the stressful look on the younger student's face, Marth decided it wasn't worth pursuing the matter, so he simply shrugged in return.
"Sorry for disillusioning you."
"It's okay." The second year grew a little more red and backed up a couple of steps. "Uh, I have to go… uh, see you around."
Marth watched the teenager rush off and turned back to his work. That couldn't have been that embarrassing, right? Strange.
Ike didn't know if he liked or hated Fridays anymore.
He used to be apathetic to the last weekday until the pattern of staring at a certain someone developed. Unnoticed, Fridays then were pleasant until he realized that staring was an abnormal reaction to a certain someone.
Now, Fridays caused a little too much anxiety. So, he supposed Fridays weren't too good for him.
"Good morning."
Ike was plugging in the hot water machine when the greeting was softly sent his way. Heck, he had fifteen minutes before the coffeehouse officially opened. What the hel—his mind blanked when he turned to face the early-morning perpetrator.
"I hope you don't mind," the blue-haired student continued, staring passively at the recently stocked shelves. "The door was unlocked."
His mouth went a little drier than expected. "I… it's fine." He ducked back and decided to busy himself by filling the machine with water. Stay focused. He had a job to do, a manager to please, and an obsession to impressaywhat?
His hand jerked, and the liquid sloshed innocently around the edges of the boiler. "Shit…" That would have been messy.
The other student was staring at him strangely, most likely questioning his competence or sanity. "Are you sure it's not too early?"
He slammed the lid shut on the boiler, and it hissed in contempt. Ike turned back and smiled, wracking his brain in order to formulate a coherent, flowing conversation. "Yeah, uh…" He paused. Wow. Really. He was asking too much of himself. "What can I get you?"
"The usual." The shorter student didn't miss a beat, answering the mechanical question with an equally mechanical answer.
"… Right." Ike turned immediately to complete the other's request, but realized the timing was all wrong. "It'll be a few minutes," he finished lamely. Or maybe more. After all, a watched pot never boils. "Uhm… you're early today."
That earned him a subtle smile, and Ike was inwardly congratulating himself. Then the other answered, "I worked late."
"All night?" The junior blurted out, shamelessly studying the other student for signs of fatigue. Slightly blood shot eyes, hair a little messier… "What do you do?"
A small shrug accompanied a short answer. "Lab work. I was a little behind."
A little? Ike couldn't fathom how much 'a lot' would therefore be. "Sounds… exhilarating." He was struggling for words. Never the wittiest of the bunch, he was floundering like a fish out of water.
"Doesn't it?" The question came out more like a statement, but the upward curve of the other's lips indicated a mutual understanding.
Ike was trying to keep his eyes off and focus on something more productive, but he always ended up (probably very obviously) staring at the other student. Shit, this was so—
"Is there something on my face?"
-not good! The undergraduate froze, conveniently having locked gazes and inconveniently losing most of his dignity when his expression looked like a deer's when caught in front of headlights.
Jerking in order to unlock his body from its stiff state, Ike shook his head to negate the past two minutes. "N-no…?" How convincing was that? He tried again. "It's not… like that."
The other's neutral expression melted into something akin to confusion. "What is it?"
It took a few seconds for Ike to realize that he had just dug himself into a bigger hole. Fuck! "It's—" that I can't keep my fucking eyes off of you for two fucking seconds? That was a little profane. The frustration was obviously taking its toll.
The water boiler's light turned green. Oh, nice. Ike fumbled with the tea bag and the cup. He wasn't built to think under such extreme pressure. "You look really tired," he finally answered, keeping his eyes locked on his task of steeping tea.
The student across the counter simply shifted his weight, choosing to now lean against the edge. "I see."
"Here…" Ike handed the cup to the young man, unsure of what to say next. "Uhm… you know, if you take a nap here, I'll watch your stuff." The only thing he was certain about was that he wasn't getting his message across. "I mean, you study enough as it is."
Slender fingers wrapped around the cup, taking a moment to pop the lid off. "Thanks, I just might if this doesn't kick in."
"Wait, it's really hot…" Ike blurted out as the other's lips came dangerously close to the scalding drink.
The other student blew a gentle breath out instead, causing ripples across the liquid surface, but retreated without taking a sip. "Thanks for the warning. Oh." Realization flashed in the other's eyes suddenly. "Credit card works here, right?"
Nodding an affirmative and taking the proffered card from the shorter man, Ike felt some awkwardness leave his body as he typed in an access code, silently running 'Marth Lowell' through his mind like a mantra.
"You look pretty out of it," Ike commented with genuine concern, handing the card back. "Don't go to class."
A slight pause in conversation. Then a shrug from the shorter student. "I have to." Ike wasn't offered any more explanation. "Ike, if I fall asleep, wake me up fifteen minutes to eight."
"… Sure."
Marth. He had a name. Finally.
As he closed the door behind himself, Marth watched his roommate wander out of their room languidly.
"How was your day?" Link asked, one hand snagging the second to last bottle of water. As if getting a cup and drinking filtered water was too much of an inconvenience. "Just kidding." Interject evil smirk here. "How was your past two days?"
Tempted to blurt out a curse, Marth settled with a shrug and discreet eye roll. "Is a quiet Friday evening too much to ask for?"
The blond looked affronted, exaggerating the emotion by placing his free hand on his chest. "Are you suggesting that I'm bothering you?"
Marth sighed softly. "I should sleep."
Link's expression turned serious. "What's stopping you?"
He slowly blinked in response, considering the state of his body. Tired, achy, but still somewhat awake. "I guess I had too much caffeine."
The look on the other's face spoke something in the lines of 'Is that possible?' Either way, Link sat up straighter, like an attentive student who sits front and center. "Did you go to the coffeehouse today too?"
"Yes…" Marth glanced at his roommate quickly. What a random question. He took the last bottle of water from the cardboard box. Might as well if they had to go buy more as soon as possible, right?
"You know the blue-haired guy who works there?" Link waved his hand above his head to indicate the said person's height. "Tall? Kind of big."
Marth broke the plastic seal and took a sip of water. He felt very compelled to ask Link at what he was hinting. "…Ike?"
The blond nodded, unnecessarily lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Notice anything weird about the guy?"
Well, he had enough of this, really. "… Link, how old are you again?"
His roommate looked hurt. Kind of genuinely hurt. "Seriously, Marth."
The blue-haired graduate student stifled a sigh. Well, if it was really that important… "Ike is very nice."
"Oh." Link looked thoughtfully across his shoulder, eyes not really focused on any specific target.
Marth narrowed his eyes. This seemed to be happening to him a lot—people saying seemingly arbitrary things and then withholding information. "What are you not telling me?"
The blond shrugged carelessly, though there was worry in his eyes. "You really haven't noticed anything?"
There was something worth his attention if Link was acting like this. "Tell me." Marth firmly set down his water, senses sharpening in preparation of his roommate's response.
"Well, he stares at you."
What was that supposed to mean? Marth wasn't sure how he should be acting. His facial expression remained blank. "I don't get it." Well, he was being truthful.
Frowning, Link ran a hand through golden strands. "It's like… intense. His eyes track your movements."
"I… haven't noticed," Marth replied, somewhat doubtful but mostly disbelieving. Link's account seemed impossible and inexplicable.
"I think he likes you." Just like that, with a dead serious expression, Link blurted out, obviously worried about his roommate's reaction (or lack thereof).
For once, Marth's eyes widened in pure shock. "Excuse me, what?" He shook his head, very much flustered. "That's… I can't believe… did you just… what?"
Link shrugged helplessly. "I don't see why else he would look at you like that."
"Boredom, maybe?" Marth offered, knowing he had probably turned pink, and stood up to retreat to the bedroom. This had to be one of the most embarrassing conversations that he had ever had.
"Whatever. I'm just… putting it out there," his roommate mumbled half-heartedly, playing with the paper label around his bottle of water, "since you're obviously oblivious."
Marth only managed to murmur in response before shutting the bedroom door behind him in an attempt to hide from the awkwardness.
"Roy, are you okay?"
The sophomore looked up from his notebook, in which his pencil had dragged a random squiggle through blank blue lines. His tutor nonchalantly began to erase the whiteboard, full of chemistry rubbish.
"Yeah, why do you ask?" Roy hastily closed his book to hide the blank pages.
"Just a guess." Pit smiled brightly. "Do you need to borrow my notes?"
Caught red-handed. Roy sputtered indignantly, "I—well, it's not…okay, wait…" He hit himself a couple of times in the head. "Eer, yes, please?"
The brunet slid over his papers and continued to erase the whiteboard. "So what's going on?"
Roy guiltily began to copy down his tutor's notes. "Uh… well, it's… this person. No, it's my friend. This person that my friend likes… he's…" Roy was inwardly blanching. Could this sound any more stupid? "Twenty-five… not that that's old but… but… uhm… uh…"
Pit had the decency to look puzzled. "This preoccupies you because…"
"My friend's twenty!" The redhead was having extreme difficulty voicing his concerns. His thoughts weren't turning into words.
"So the five-year difference is bothering you?"
"No! It's… I don't know… telling him." Roy was losing track of how he was referring to each person. "It's weird."
"Who are you telling?" Pit's perplexed expression deepened. Roy's pronouns were overlapping like no other.
"My friend." Roy hadn't realized his slip up. "Uh… never mind… it's really messed up, honestly. It's just… my friend really likes the guy, and if I liked an older person and I was… uh… you know, I don't know what's going on." Roy stopped himself when he finally realized what was making him so uncomfortable.
Pit simply murmured reassuringly, packing up his materials, "It'll be fine."
The redhead bit his lip, but didn't return the sentiment.
Author's Notes: Please review! It makes me so happy to know that you've kept reading!
