This is a story idea that blossomed a long time ago, with a co-writer who is no longer interested in writing slash. :/

So, I'm taking lead on it. I think I need something new to focus on because I'm feeling a bit stale.

This chapter was written more than two years ago, so the writing quality will probably be a little less than what I write these days. Still, I think it's a good idea with loads of potential for comedy, not much angst...eh, or maybe angst too. I can't write without at least a LITTLE angst.

ENJOY!

Much Love,

Britt.

ONE

"Is it physically possible to make love to a beverage?"

"If you're referencing your cup of coffee, it would end with a few third-degree-burns on your dick… but, yeah, I think it's possible."

Sighing, I sipped the caramel-colored liquid. "It's not just coffee. It's some confounded creation that Starbucks fashioned in the pits of hell, designed specifically to clean out my wallet and flood my system with caffeine." The last delectable drops hit my tongue and, despondently, I set the cup on the table.

"You have got to stop drinking that shit. Try some green tea or something." Owen didn't even look away from his newspaper.

The typical hip coffee-house music played softly, complementing the patter of rain against the windows. For a Tuesday morning, Starbucks wasn't busy. I was lucky enough to snag a table by the window before I had to dash to class. My eyes shot to the watch on my wrist. Fifteen minutes until class starts and this jerk hasn't said a word…

"Why did you call this meeting?" I inquired, fidgeting. Owen's bored brown eyes flitted to me, then back to his newspaper. He turned the page. A stray strand of mud-colored hair fell over his eye.

"I'm leaving for a month."

Licking the sides of the coffee cup, "Shit, man, how did that happen?" I tried to sound surprised because I knew that was the response he expected. The truth was that Owen and I were barely friends. It surprised me when he called and asked to meet, but when Starbucks was involved I could hardly protest. My blood must be at least 20% mocha by now…

"Don't kid around with me, Zeke. I know that you couldn't care less if I disappear for a while, or even move to Siberia. We never hang out – you get on my nerves and I think you're a huge douchebag." He sighed at my gaping jaw and wide eyes. "But I trust you. I need to ask a favor."

"Ehh… I don't know if I'd be inclined to help after you just insulted me…"

"It's impossible to insult you," he snorted. "I know that much about you, at least." Yeah, I guess he's right.

"So, what's the favor? Since I'm such a douchebag, don't count on me to help if it's any inconvenience for me." I smirked when Owen's fist clenched in anger. It was so fun to piss off such a tall, broad-shouldered guy. Especially since his overall disposition was usually calm.

"My little brother has been staying with me. My parents kicked him out and he had no place to go but to me, apparently." Owen grit his teeth and continued. "I don't trust the little asshole alone around all of my stuff. I think he'll party the entire month and trash the place. I want you to babysit."

"Babysit? Seriously, Owen, how old is this kid? Just put him in a hotel."

"He's nineteen, as of yesterday, but I don't trust him." Owen's eyes inspected me nonchalantly. "You're a buzz kill, so nothing bad will happen with you around."
"What's in it for me?" I picked up the cup again and looked down at the empty plastic bottom. So sad…

"You get to live in my apartment for a month." He smirked. "It's a penthouse, really. You can eat my food, use my shower, sleep in my bed. And I'll pay you, of course. You get 800 bucks if I come back and Ross doesn't have AIDS."

I leaned back in my chair and tapped my fingers against the table top. "I have to work, you know. I can't watch him all day."
"Take him to work with you," Owen protested and FINALLY dropped his newspaper.

"I sit in dusty libraries all day, typing up lessons and getting coffee for the professors!"

"Exactly. He'll go to the library with you. The kid could stand a summer spent in a library. He's kind of dim-witted."

I bit my lip in consideration. I had been to Owen's apartment. I knew that it was like a mansion. "OK, I'll do it."

"It's such a sacrifice, I know," he grumbled and returned to his newspaper. I broke down and got another cup of coffee before wandering out into the rain.

The spring season was ending with a burst of warm precipitation. Eventually, blistering heat would overcome the city.
And me, too.