Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Hot Coffee ❯ One-Shot

Hot Coffee

<A/N: Finally, the sequel to Snow Day and New York. I could be read as a stand alone, but NY explains the background and SD kinda left a quasi cliffhanger. Both are quite short! This is set maybe a week after SD.

Disclaimers: Not my characters, my plot. You create them, I bend them to my unerring will and use disclaimers like this to shield myself from your almighty wrath. And at some point I'll learn your name further than `possibly Take-something'.

Warnings: yaoi, OC, fluff. >

Crawford frowned at the knock on the door. All of the people he knew in this city were already gathered in the apartment, i.e. Nagi. He stood up slowly, wincing as his knees clicked. He glanced out of the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over New York. Sunset. He hadn't moved in about five hours, then. It was a bad day when Nagi had to remind him to eat.

The sharp knocking came again. Crawford opened the door briskly, ready to send away any salesman or girl scout that disturbed him.

Instead, he was confronted by an African American man about the same height as he was, with neat black hair and an awkward smile. Square framed glasses were perched on his nose, and two brown paper wrapped packages were in his hands.

"Crawford? Um, you may not remember exactly-"

"Michael," Crawford offered a small smile. "Come in." Crawford stepped aside to allow the man who had been his colleague for the short while he'd actually worked in this country enter the luxurious apartment.

"You see," the young man began to explain his presence, "usually when someone leaves the office we get him or her a going away gift, but you left rather abruptly. Still, we put our money together and I was nominated to bring it over."

Crawford stared. A gift?

"But… but I was only working with you for about a month." Crawford was stunned. He kicked himself for not having foreseen this, but it hadn't occurred to him to even think about his old job since he'd quit. Perhaps a card? Yes, a card would have been a pleasant surprise, but a gift?

"We owe you. Thanks to you, everyone on the floor got a pay rise. You were always one step ahead of the market, it was amazing!" Michael stepped closer, still holding out the packages. "We're really going to miss you."

Something in Crawford broke. People he'd barely met, barely known, made no effort to socialise with were going to miss him. Admittedly, Michael meant the company more than the employees, but he was going to be missed. He accepted the packages mutely, an unusually sincere smile gracing his classic features.

"The other package," Michael said awkwardly, "I picked that up downstairs. I asked what floor you were on, and the girl at reception asked if I'd take that up to you." Crawford glanced at the smaller of the two parcels. From Berlin. Schuldig had sent them a package?

"Sorry about the mess," Crawford felt obliged to apologise. "I'm working on setting up a new business and contacting clients." Piles of paper graced the usually tidy room, stacked on desks, on chairs, on the floor. Crawford just hadn't felt like locking himself in his tiny office, and needed the space the windows seemed to provide.

"It's a wonderful apartment," Michael said sincerely. "Amazing view. Did you have an interior designer?" Crawford shook his head, concentrating on the package I front of him. "You have to open it," Michael grinned. "I promised the others I get your reaction."

Carefully peeling of the tape and unfolding the paper, putting it to one side to be either reused or recycled, Crawford found himself staring at a large book. His fingers traced the patterns on the glossy cover.

"The Complete Beatles?" Crawford's lips curved into a self-satisfied grin. "I'd forgotten I'd even mentioned that." He gestured to a cabinet in the wall. "Every single record they ever produced is in there," he smiled. "Thank you. Thank the others for me as well."

"Just glad you liked it," Michael beamed. He wasn't about to mention that Crawford hadn't been the only one to forget he'd mentioned his love of the Beatles, so had everyone else in the office until Michael reminded them.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Crawford put the book down carefully on a well-polished mahogany coffee table.

"Please," Michael grinned. Crawford set off to the small, modern kitchen at the rear of the apartment.

Michael settled himself on the leather sofa, staring out of the window. As it got darker, the lights snapped on above, glowing pleasantly. All in all, it was quite a `warm' room, despite the severity of the furniture. He gazed out of the window, lulled by the traffic as Crawford had been a few weeks earlier.

"Crawford-san?" Michael's head snapped around to see a confused Nagi staring at him.

"He's making coffee," Michael offered.

"Oh."

Thoughts flittered through Michael's brain. Was this Crawford's boy toy boyfriend? He was stunning and exotic, and strangely ethereal standing with the lights behind him. Michael tried to guess Nagi's age. He eventually settled on `between thirteen and thirty'. While his body was younger than his years, his eyes were much older. Nagi's past showed in his very demeanour.

"My name is Nagi," the Japanese boy eventually introduced himself. He sat down next to Michael.

"Michael," the older man offered.

"Who are you?" Nagi asked innocently.

"Mi- Oh, I used to work with Mr Crawford. We bought him a gift, and I brought it over."

"He doesn't get many gifts. He won't tell me when his birthday is and we don't celebrate religious festivals. This will have meant a lot to him." Nagi spotted the book on the coffee table. He gave a small smile, which, for Nagi, was quite a large smile. "He really likes the Beatles. He likes the messages in the music. They're pleasant to listen to as well, which is an added bonus." Michael grinned.

"So-" he blushed awkwardly. How do you asked that question?

"I'm Crawford-san's ward," Nagi explained smoothly. "We met in Japan, when I was very young."

"You speak amazing English," Michael offered.

"I also speak German. I went to school in Germany. I have lived with Crawford-san since I was about eight. We worked together back in Japan, with a German and an Irishman." Nagi spotted the package from Schuldig. "Speaking of which, this must be from Schuldig, our German friend."

"Doesn't Schuldig mean guilty?" Michael asked in confusion.

"Yes," Nagi said simply. He opened the parcel much less sedately than Crawford had opened his and stared at the enclosed video. A blush crept up his face. "Oh. Oooh." A note fell out. He grabbed it quickly and scanned the contents. He went a little redder.

"Would you like some cocoa?" Crawford appeared around the door.

Nagi nodded and held up the video. In rapid Japanese he said "He's sent us porn! Porn with him in! Can you believe it? Does he actually expect us to watch it? I'm too young as it is, and it's just tactless."

"Did he send a note?" Crawford asked in the same language.

"Yes. He said someone asked for his autograph recently. He's an idiot, working not only in Berlin, but he's using Schwarz as his surname! I have half a mind to write back and yell at him." Nagi frowned.

"Don't bother. It will only encourage him." As if for the first time, Crawford noticed Michael's presence. Michael hadn't understood a word on the conversation, but Nagi was holding up a video with a picture on the front of a redhead lying through one of those x-ray machine you get at airports to check hand luggage, obviously naked. He recognised the name `Schuldig Schwarz' on the front, and wondered exactly what Crawford and Nagi used to do for a living together.

"Schuldig…" Nagi stuttered. "Schuldig went to Berlin when we left Japan."

"Yes, our colleague became a porn star. He reminds us of this periodically, I'm afraid," Crawford took the video from Nagi as he continued to address Michael. "He's pretty, but uneducated. For him it was an ideal career." Michael laughed, easing the tension slightly.

"Yeah, I had an ex-boyfriend like that. Stunning, but not a thought in that pretty little head of his." Crawford's lips thinned and he pressed his hands together. Nodding pleasantly he returned to the kitchen. Nagi chewed his lip and sat perched on the very edge of the seat. "Shit," Michael said suddenly. "Well, that's one way to come out."

Nagi glanced up and offered a tiny smile by way of reassurance. "Schuldig was Crawford's lover before we left Japan," he said in a small voice.

"Oh. Ooh. Damn." Michael sighed. "Sometimes I think I just out to have my voice box taken out and be done with it."

"You didn't know. You thought he was homophobic then, didn't you?" Nagi's eyes sparkled. "You were upset by that thought. You find Crawford attractive. He's invited you in and is making you coffee. He likes you."

"Seriously?" Michael frowned.

"Certainly. If he didn't you would have been left at the door. Crawford doesn't like most of society."

Michael couldn't stop the smile. Nagi smiled back and relaxed against the leather back of the couch. Crawford's head reappeared.

"How do you take your coffee?" he asked.

"Black, with four sugars." Crawford nodded briskly and disappeared again.

"Hot as hell, black as night and sweet as an Angel's kisses," Nagi murmured.

"What?"

"It's a quote. I can't remember who said it. `I like my men like I like my coffee, hot as hell, black as night and sweet s an Angel's kisses'." Nagi gave a mischievous grin. "Crawford takes his coffee black and full of sugar too."

Michael blushed. Crawford re-entered the room, carrying a tray with three mugs on. He handed Nagi his hot chocolate and sat down in his armchair, holding out the tray for Michael to tae his coffee. Nagi smiled at the mug.

"So, what are you doing here?" Michael asked. "All this paper, you're setting up a new business, right?"

"Yes," Crawford smiled over his mug. "Body guards and security. It's what we did in Japan, but there were four of us then."

"We were bodyguards for the president of Japan," Nagi said with a hint of pride. "That's got to look amazing on any CV."

"Didn't he-" Michael stopped abruptly.

"Die? Yes." Crawford grinned. "He fired us mere hours before."

"Wow. That's got to put people off firing you." Crawford nodded and settled back a little further into his seat. Nagi got up suddenly.

"I left the internet on. I should go check." He fled abruptly. Crawford sighed.

"I'm beginning to wonder if I did the right thing regarding Nagi," he admitted suddenly. Michael sat forwards. "He gets very nervous around company. Very solitary boy." Crawford put his mug down. "He has an IQ of over 180, you know. He didn't get on well at school in Japan, and then I bring him here. They put him in a grade in which he was two years younger than everyone else, and he's still bored out of his mind. He was bullied quite badly."

"So you took him out of school. It's a reasonable decision." Michael smiled reassuringly.

"I thought it was, but now I'm not so sure. The only person he comes into contact with on any kind of regular basis is me. It's not healthy. He has very little social experience, he's introverted, he's shy. I don't want to drive him out of society altogether. The only people he knows are over the internet."

"Maybe there's some other activity you could enrol him in? I don't know, chess. That's can be challenging if your partner's good, and it's relatively solitary, so he won't be overwhelmed by people."

"You know, that's a really good idea. And if I still can't detach him from his computer he can always play over the internet. Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome. He's a wiz kid with computers, then?"

"He writes programs. I gave up on Windows, on Apple Mac, on all the mass produced systems a while ago now. He writes whatever I need, and it invariably works perfectly. And it's usually compatible with anything."

"He could make a mint! My computer died a while ago, and no one can find out what's wrong with it. Something to do with Windows."

"I'll ask him to take a look at it. He's not shy about handing out his programs, either, so if you ask I'm sure he'll write you a tailor made operating system."

"Thank you." Michael finished the last of his coffee. "So, why security?"

"It's what we used to do. Admittedly, it was easier with four of us, but I imagine whatever job we get here will be considerably less pressure."

"Why did you leave Japan?"

Crawford grimaced. Michael seemed like a nice guy, more than a nice guy in fact, but there were something things that he couldn't be told. The summoning definitely counted among them. But Crawford didn't want to lie. Nagi had been right when he said Crawford liked Michael, and he didn't want to start what could be a promising friendship on falsities.

"One of our number was arrested for being criminally insane. There wasn't much point staying after that. Nagi still write to him, and we get the occasional letter."

"Wow. Um, wow. Sorry." Michael blushed. Crawford kicked himself for being so candid. Of course it wasn't the sort of thing you tell someone you barely know! Crawford sighed. SS had made certain they'd never be able to operate among normal people for any length of time. He felt socially inadequate, ad was aware this feeling was what made him so concerned for Nagi at the moment.

"Are you going to hire anyone else? I mean, if you're used to working with four and you're running half staffed." Crawford stared at Michael. They were just going to keep talking? Michael was accepting what Crawford had said and was continuing the conversation?

"Uh, no, I don't think so," Crawford spluttered, feeling even less prepared than he had when Michael gave him the gift. "We had a good group dynamic, and I don't want to try and force others to fit that dynamic. Plus, we knew each other really well. I don't think I could trust my life to strangers."

"I guess it was pretty dangerous."

"Yes. But Takatori wasn't a popular man, so we had a lot of work. I hope we can get a job with an employer who's a little less controversial here."

"Not Bush, then." Michael grinned. Crawford grinned back. It was comfortable for several moments.

Michael sighed as he glanced out of the window. "I guess I ought to be going," he admitted.

"If you'd like to stay for dinner?" Crawford couldn't believe he was hearing himself say this.

"I would, but I promised to meet someone else," Michael kicked himself for making prior arrangements, especially when he saw a brief flicker of disappointment on Crawford's face. "How about Monday?" he said suddenly.

"Yes, Monday. If you come over about six?" Crawford positively beamed.

"That would be great. I'll bring wine, shall I?"

"Yes. Perhaps we'll even be able to pry Nagi from his computer, if you tell him about the problems with yours," Crawford grinned. Michael grinned. Crawford walked him to the door. "Thank you very much for the book."

"I'm glad you like it, Crawford."

"Bradley. Call me Bradley." Brad smiled awkwardly and polished his glasses with his shirt.

"Bradley. That's a really nice name." Michael took Brad's glasses from him and placed them onto his face. Brad blinked through them as Michael leant over and gave him a very gentle, very chaste, peck on the lips. "I'll see you Monday at six, then. Goodnight."

"Bye," Crawford murmured, stunned. As the door closed, he started to smile.