Black

Emmett flipped his scarf over his shoulder and turned on his heel in true diva fashion before storming from the diner.

Watching his ex-lover hurry across the street, barely skirting a car pulling out in front of him, Ted took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Emmett would rather get hit by a car than be on the same block as him.

Would it ever get better?

A coffee cup clinked against the tabletop and Ted cringed. “Deb-” he started, but he looked up to see Justin holding out the proffered pot. “Decaf, right?” he asked.

Ted nodded. He watched the steaming liquid pour from the pot, a scalding waterfall that mesmerized him, luring him into the swirling dark vortex that pooled in the mug.

Like Emmett's eyes staring back at him.

“You want anything to eat?" Justin asked. "Waffles are the special today. Ted?” Justin touched his shoulder, pulling him back from the murky depths.

“No,” his voice wavered and he cleared his throat, “No, thank you, Justin, just coffee.”

Ted glanced at the deep blackness again, wishing he could drown himself. One finger slipped over the edge of the cup, melting into it. Ted pushed it deeper, then another, more skin running off the bone.

“Theodore,” Brian drawled, kissing Justin on the cheek before sliding into the booth.

Justin set the pot on the table and leaned closer to Brian, slipping his hand inside his lover’s jacket as he whispered in his ear.

Ted's fingers ached to reach for the pot...feel the heat pour over him...seeping into his pores... breathe it...soak it in... thick black mud running over… through… melting away…

More fingers--to the second knuckle-- disappeared in the mug. It was only a small pool, but slowly he could immerse himself...

“Uh-uh,” Brian chastised with a smirk, following Ted’s gaze. He pushed the pot away. “You’re on the wagon now.”

Ted recoiled, an inky trail streaking the tabletop as his melting fingers dripped and clutched his cup, pulling it closer. He could still feel—needed---the heat.

“Brian,” Justin reprimanded, though Ted saw the corners of his mouth turn up a bit. “It’s decaf.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Jesus, then why bother.”

"I'll get you a cup," Justin replied. Taking the pot of decaf with him behind the counter, he exchanged it for the regular coffee. He poured a mug and brought it back to the table as Ted was slipping out of the booth.

"There's a fresh batch of bran muffins," Justin told Brian as Ted handed him a few dollars.

Justin gasped, frowning at his outstretched hand.

Ted thrust it at him again. His money was still good money, though stained slightly. Dark wet spots seeped through. Ted watched the color spread from his fingers to the paper.

Just coffee.

Justin's eyes darted to Brian as he said, "You didn't eat anything, Ted."

"For the coffee," Ted insisted. He could pay.

Justin shook his head, cool fingers wrapping around Ted’s wrist. He looked at Brian and Ted looked at Brian.

Brian stared at his money too and Ted felt their eyes burn into him like Emmett’s.

Would it ever get better?

"You didn't drink your coffee, Ted," Justin reminded him. "Sit down and--"

“Ice water, Sunshine,” Brian cut him off and Justin nodded, hurrying to the tap.

Brian slid the coffee cups away and Ted reached to pull his back, but Brian grabbed his wrist, taking the money.

Ted gave him a weary smile. “Thank you.”

When Justin returned with the water, Brian wrapped Ted’s scalded hand around the glass. “Hold on, Ted.”