75 AMAZING PICK UP LINES

Coffee Machine

A/N: PG-13/borderline R because I know y'all are #thirsty (but no smut just yet. I've already told ya I'm bad at it, so I'm warming up to it. The time will come, eventually). Even though he's half Italian, I'm like 99% sure that Mitch doesn't speak Italian, so shh, just pretend. GIANT THANKS to Lia (@_opheliac) and Gilda (@jjei_gil) for the Italian help!! They saved me from the desolate pit of inaccurate Google translations :P You can find the translations at the end. Enjoy! ;)

"Are you a Starbucks coffee machine? Because I was pretty excited about you at first, but now I see that you have a lot of problems."

"No no, that's a dotted half, not quarter," Mitch argued, pointing with his finger on Scott's laptop screen. They were arranging a new song using cool software that Scott had just downloaded, and Mitch was taking the liberty of unabashedly pointing out all of his errors. When it came to music theory, Scott was pretty shitty, but with his legs draped over Scott's and one arm wrapped around his waist, Mitch couldn't really complain.

It didn't stop Scott from complaining, however. "Then when do you expect her to breathe? She has to sustain that next B-flat in chest for 8 counts, and she can't breathe before that because she'd be cutting the phrase off."

"I know that, dumbass, but I resolve to the G right there, so she can't cut off that early. It'll sound bad."

Scott bit his lip, studying the measure in question. "Yeah, you're right, Macy. Sorry," he muttered, fixing the error with a huff and a couple clicks of his mouse. Mitch knew it would be hard for Scott to stay mad at him for his nitpicking when he began to press open-mouthed kisses against Scott's jawline. "Stop it. I'm trying to get this done," he protested, keeping his eyes on his laptop that was resting on Mitch's lap.

"Do it later," Mitch whined, kissing Scott in a trail down his neck and across the parts of his collarbone exposed by his flannel shirt. Scott was purposefully ignoring him, clicking around on the computer.

After a while, Mitch had had enough. In one swift motion, he lifted the computer off his legs, slid it across the couch away from them, and straddled Scott's lap, looking him in the eye with a glare. "What's more important, asshole, sex or technology?"

Scott grinned, taking Mitch's face in his hands. "The ultimate 'Would You Rather?' question," he said, and Mitch's stormy expression broke into laughter as he interlaced his fingers behind Scott's neck.

"And what's your final answer?" Mitch prompted with a mischievous smile, shifting his weight so that he were just barely applying pressure against Scott, making his breath hitch. Scott opened his mouth to reply just as Mitch's phone started buzzing from the coffee table, accompanied by his "7/11" ringtone. With a reluctant sigh, Mitch slid off Scott's lap and reached for his phone, checking the caller ID before pressing 'decline.' "It's just Jonathan," Mitch explained, standing up with a loud sigh and walking toward the kitchen, the mood effectively killed. "Fucking c0ckblock."

He heard Scott laugh from the living room. "Well, you're not exactly helping right now, you know."

Mitch just smiled to himself, taking out two coffee mugs from the cupboard and setting them down next to their new Starbucks Verismo machine. "Mocha or latte? Or espresso? It can make a lot of stuff, actually. What do you want?"

"Don't change the subject!" Scott called from the couch. "Come back here."

Mitch tried not to laugh as he popped an espresso pod into the machine and pressed the button, watching the dark coffee drip into the mug. "Did you know 'Verismo' means 'realism' in Italian?"

"Don't change the damn subject!"

"Shh, be quiet. The Realism needs total concentration."