SkyGem: Warning for homophobia and bigotry for the upcoming chapter.

Vitaly Sokolov didn't hate his job.

It could get a little hectic at times, sure. And at others, it would get so boring, he would find himself almost dozing off occasionally.

But he liked his co-workers, he supposed.

And sometimes, they would get some of the most bizarre customers.

There was one time, in particular, that Vitaly was sure he wouldn't forget no matter how old he lived to become.

It was a crisp winter afternoon, somewhere near the beginning of December. The shop was fairly empty, save for a few clusters of college students scattered here and there throughout the shop, textbooks spread across laps and pages upon pages of notes strewn across tabletops; not an unusual sight this time of the year, with exams fast approaching.

Sunlight streamed in through the huge windows at the front of little café, drenching the entire place in warmth and lulling Vitaly slowly into a light doze.

Then, the light tinkle of a bell, and he was snapped back to awareness.

He looked over to see who had entered, and felt his mouth immediately go dry.

The man who had entered was, quite honestly, one of the most beautiful people Vitaly had ever seen in his life. He was tall and graceful, with legs that went on for miles, and a gait that belonged on the runway.

His features were distinctly European, with high cheekbones and a long thin nose, pouty lips pulled into a sultry smile.

His heels clicked as he walked up to the counter, and Vitaly's eyes were drawn to the dark brown, high-heeled boots he wore with his skinnies.

He stared, his gaze travelling slowly back up the guest's body, and it was only when he heard a quiet chuckle that he realized the guest was waiting to order.

Feeling heat rise to his cheeks, he jerked his gaze up to meet the customer's eyes, and was once more momentarily dazed to find a pair of mismatched eyes looking back at him – one a deep red, the other sapphire blue.

"C-Can I-ah-help you…sir?" asked Vitaly, tripping over his own tongue as he tried to get his mind back on track.

"Yes, can I have a medium vanilla bean latte?" the man asked as the reached up to pull off the beanie he was wearing and Vitaly watched, mesmerized, as long, silky blue locks tumbled down around his shoulders.

"Of course," replied Vitaly, still staring. "Is that everything?"

"Mm," replied the customer in the affirmative, distracted as he pulled his phone out to at the sound of the notification sound that had sounded a second before.

He didn't look back up as he handed Vitaly the change for the drink, distracted as he was with tapping out what looked like a very long text.

After handing him the drink, Vitaly watched the man almost worriedly as he walked distractedly towards one of the tables next to a group of studying college students.

He deftly swerved around the other patrons of the café, setting his bags down on an empty table and pulling out a chair to sit down.

Before he could set his coffee down however, one of the students at the table next to his suddenly pushed her chair out, knocking into him, and Vitaly could only watch in horrified shock and concern as the man dropped his cup with a hiss, as the scalding drink splashed all over the hand that was holding his cup.

Cursing under his breath, he quickly stepped back to avoid getting any of the drink on his clothes, at the same time grabbing a napkin to dab gently at his hand.

The girl who had knocked into him, a tiny thing with big clunky glasses and hands resting disapprovingly on her hips, sneered, saying, "Watch what you're doing, faggot."

And suddenly, it felt as if everything in the café ground to a screeching halt.

The heads of the other customers jerked up at the slur, all of them looking so flabbergasted, it would be almost funny in any other situation. One customer turned to his friend, eyebrows lifted as if to ask, "Did she really say what I think she just said?"

The blue-haired man was also staring, expression twisted into confusion, as if he couldn't quite comprehend what had been said to him.

"Excuse me?" he asked, an edge of steel in his otherwise polite tone.

"You heard me," she told him with a sneer. "Watch what you're fucking doing. Some people are trying to study here, and we don't need you parading around in those damned hooker boots of yours, bumping into people and-"

"Excuse me!" interrupted Vitaly just then, before she'd had a chance to finish what would no doubt be another horribly offensive sentence. All eyes turned to him. "I'm going to need to ask you to leave, ma'am."

"Excuse me!?" she parroted back, voice shrill and outraged. "Why the hell should I have to leave? He's-"

"You're the one that bumped into me, bitch!" barked the blue-haired man, crossing his arms.

"Yeah!" piped up another customer. "You're the one distracting others from studying here, lady! Stop bothering the guy just because you're jealous!"

"Who's jealous?" she shrieked, turning back on the guy who'd spoken.

"Obviously that'd be you," replied another girl from across the café, having pulled out her earbuds to listen to the ongoing drama. "It's not his fault you have a face that looks like the back-end of a donkey!"

The bell over the door rang.

Nobody heard it over the laughter that sounded at the insult, and the shriek of "WHAT?" from girl who suddenly found herself on the wrong end of the other customers' disdain.

"Oh God, not again," groaned a voice from over by the door, and Vitaly turned around to see yet another good-looking young man, with shoulder-length silver hair, and eyes the colour of a stormy ocean. "The hell did you do this time, jackass?" the newcomer asked, looking straight at the blue-haired man.

And suddenly, everyone's glares turned to him.

Vitaly could see that the same girl who'd just defended the blue-haired man was about to speak up again, but before she could, the victim himself beat her to the punch.

"I am hurt you think so lowly of me, brother dear," he said in a dramatic voice, hand going to his chest in mock offense. "I'll have you know I am entirely the victim here."

Vitaly turned to stare at the customer, shocked at this new revelation – he could see no family resemblance between the two young men, aside from their unnatural beauty.

The silver-haired man's eyes narrowed. "You, the victim? The great and all-powerful Mukuro?"

His voice as dry and sarcastic, though Mukuro didn't seem to notice.

"Yesss!" he said with a pout, voice rising to a whine. "She was being rude and calling me bad words! Do something about it, Hayato!"

"Bad words?" clarified Hayato, one eyebrow raised. "You're making all this fuss over someone calling you a few bad words? What are you, twelve? You know how Tsuna feels about you stirring up trouble-"

"But she called me the f-word!" whined Mukuro, pointing imperiously at the person in question, who was standing and watching the entire exchange with a mixture of disbelief and anger.

Hayato looked confused.

"…Fuck?" he ventured, eyebrows furrowed.

"Noo!" replied Mukuro, smacking his own forehead in exasperation. "The other f-word! The one that always makes Tsuna's eyes go all sad and watery."

And suddenly, Hayato seemed to understand.

His eyes widened, and he turned to glare at the question.

She shrank back under the force of his glare, and Vitaly could swear he heard an honest-to-god growl building up in Hayato's chest.

"You have ten seconds to get the fuck out of my sight before I fucking blow your worthless ass into next week," he growled at the girl, pure hatred rolling off him in waves.

The girl stared, frozen, for a moment before wisely turning and sweeping her belongings into a bag.

She fled the café at a run, not even pausing to slip her jacket on before she escaped out the door.

There was a cheer as she left, and one of the customers muttering a "good riddance" under their breath, before everything returned to normal.

With a childish grin on his face, Mukuro skipped on over to Hayato, throwing his arms around the slightly shorter man's neck and pulling him close.

"Thank you for that, Hayatooo~!" he cooed, and got a smack on the head as a reply.

"Whatever," replied Hayato, grumbling and pulling away. "Let go of my now, you stupid pineapple head. And stop being so affectionate! It's fucking creepy!"

SkyGem: Aaand that's it for this chapter! I hope you liked, and sorry for taking so long to update!

Next Chapter: Business As Usual