Chapter Text
Tonight’s dinner rush is coming to an end, and the pizzeria is a wreck. Most tables are uncleared. The floors are dirty. The kitchen looks like a grocery store after an explosion. None of the employees have checked the bathrooms in hours, and they’re all afraid to.
As the restaurant’s primary owner, Chenle is distressed, to say the least. He’s tired of getting home late. He has a family to take care of—a precious, angelic little dog, to be more specific. They’ve been closing late every day for the past week for one reason or another, and he’s absolutely had it.
“Jaemin,” he snaps. “Why the hell is there still sauce everywhere? I asked you to clean it an hour ago.”
“Honey, I did,” Jaemin answers, raising his eyebrows at Chenle’s outburst. (Chenle knows he’s been a bit of an ass this evening, but he can’t help it at this point. The stress has completely taken the wheel.) “This is a new spill.”
“Well, it better be the last one,” Chenle grumbles to the head chef. “Have someone wipe the counters before we make any more pizzas. What are the bussers doing?”
“I don’t know… Maybe bussing?” Jaemin replies with a snicker.
Chenle grits his teeth, unamused. “Surely, one of them can come help.”
“Two of them are still on break,” Mark calls from the salad bar.
Chenle whips to face him, eyes narrowing. “Why are you eavesdropping?”
“You’re talking kind of loud, man, and I’m right here,” Mark tells Chenle, offering him a sympathetic look before he returns to the order he’s working on. His counter is a mess, too.
Chenle groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. How the hell is he supposed to shut down the restaurant when it’s in such a state?
“Chenle.” The grin in Jaemin’s voice is clear. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
“Oh, shut up!” Chenle hollers, spinning back toward the pizza bar.
“Dude,” Mark butts in again. “Why don’t you go get some fresh air?”
Chenle is about to tell Mark to shut up, too, but as he scans the rest of the kitchen, he spots a pile of trash bags that he’s pretty sure he told someone to take care of already. His head throbs twice.
“Fine,” he mutters. “I’m going to take the trash out.”
“It’s raining, so grab your jacket,” Jeno warns. He’s leaning against the outer side of the salad bar, where Mark places two freshly prepared salads.
Chenle has no idea when Jeno even appeared. “Why are you over here?” he asks. “Just because you and Mark are together now doesn’t mean you can leave the host stand—”
“Calm down,” Jeno says. “I’m helping the waiters bring out salads.”
Chenle inhales and exhales slowly. “Okay,” he grits out. He looks to Mark, then to Jaemin. “Can you two focus on cleaning up the kitchen while I do the trash?”
“We’ve got it,” Jaemin says. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
Chenle sighs, then spins on his heel and heads to the office to grab a jacket.
There are three large trash bags by the kitchen’s backdoor, and they all smell like shit. Chenle grimaces as he piles them in his arms. They’re so bulky, he can’t even see over them, but it’s fine. The dumpsters are right outside the building, anyway.
Holding his breath, he carries the bags out and over to the side of the restaurant and tosses them to the ground so he can open the closest dumpster.
…It’s full.
“Great,” Chenle mutters. He checks the further one just in case, but as expected, that one is full, too. “Fantastic.”
He groans. Trash is usually picked up by six at latest, and it’s eight. He stands with his hands on his hips and looks around, taking a moment to breathe while he tries to think of a solution. He doesn’t want to leave the bags out in the rain, but he certainly doesn’t want them stinking up the kitchen.
His eyes float across the street, and suddenly, he has an idea.
There’s a physical therapy office directly across from the restaurant. His former college roommate works there full-time—Renjun. They’re still close, actually. He isn’t the office’s legal owner, but he runs the place like it’s the Navy, or at least that’s how it sounds to Chenle whenever Renjun calls him to vent about work matters, which is often.
Surely, their dumpsters aren’t full.
It’s worth checking out, Chenle decides. With a grunt, he re-piles the trash bags in his arms and heads toward the street.
The office’s dumpsters aren’t at the side of the building like the restaurant’s are—Chenle figures they’re somewhere at the back. The rain is steadily growing heavier, and it’s cold, so he turns around the back corner of the building in a hurry, wanting to return to the restaurant as soon as possible.
He runs into an obstacle, though, once he makes the turn. Runs straight into it. One of the trash bags tumbles out of his hands, and—
“What the fu—” Chenle trails off and squints. Oh, god, it’s a person. There’s a person on the ground, right before his feet. He just ran over a person with a pile of trash bags. “Shit. You okay?”
The person sighs.
“Yeah… Sorry,” he mumbles, voice so soft Chenle almost doesn’t hear it.
“I didn’t think anyone would be back here,” Chenle says, apologetic, crouching down and extending his hand. The person takes it, grunting as Chenle pulls him to his feet.
“Sorry…” he repeats. Chenle’s face scrunches up in confusion.
“I mean, I’m the one who slammed into you with a trash bag. I should be saying sorry.”
The mystery person sighs again, and Chenle finally takes in his appearance under the dim outdoor lighting. He’s a young adult, it appears, in black dress pants and a blue hoodie, though both are soaked by the rain. His hood is up, but his hair is still wet, sticking to his forehead.
He looks… kind of like a puppy left out in the rain. Sad, somewhat pitiful. Chenle wonders what the hell he’s doing out in such horrible weather, with no jacket, hanging around a physical therapy office’s dumpsters.
He frowns. “Uh… Are you okay?” he asks.
The guy brushes off his elbows. Chenle’s chest tightens with guilt.
“I’m fine. I didn’t get hurt,” the stranger says. He glances down into Chenle’s eyes and gives him a small smile, and… Wait. He’s…
He’s cute.
Chenle swallows. “No, I mean…” He doesn’t want to offend the pretty stranger by telling him he looks sad and pathetic out in the rain like this, so he chooses his next words carefully. “Uh, what were you doing back here, anyway?”
“Oh, um…” The guy looks down, smile fading. “Just pacing.”
The answer doesn’t offer Chenle much insight. He raises his eyebrows.
“Pacing? Are you…?” He trails off, realizing he’s about to sound like a broken record. “Something wrong? I mean, aside from getting run over by a trash bag?”
The stranger sighs once again. Chenle is starting to feel really bad for him.
“Yeah, I just…” He eyes Chenle carefully, with an attentiveness that might’ve made Chenle’s cheeks burn if it weren’t so cold. “Ah, you should probably get back to your restaurant.”
Chenle blinks, caught off guard.
“How did you know I work at a restaurant?”
“Um, well… Your jacket says Dreamscape Pizzeria.”
“Oh.” Chenle’s arms are starting to hurt from holding the trash. “Yeah, I work there. Our dumpster is full, so I was going to…” He nods in the direction of the office’s dumpsters a few meters away.
“Ah.” The guy crosses over to one of them and lifts the cover, holding it up.
“Oh, you didn’t have to…” Chenle’s face does flush now. He just threw a bag of trash in this cute guy’s face, and now he’s helping Chenle? After blinking a few more times in surprise, he hauls the bag he dropped into his arms, steps forward, and throws all three bags in. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Chenle hesitates. There’s this weird feeling in his chest, and for some reason, he doesn’t want to leave things off like this, even if he never sees this poor guy again.
So instead of heading straight back to the restaurant, he leans against the dumpster. Mark did tell him to get some fresh air, after all.
“Dinner rush just ended,” he says. “So I’m not in a hurry.”
The stranger tilts his head like a confused puppy, and Chenle averts his eyes as if he looked directly into the sun.
God. He needs to get it together. It’s not like he’s never spoken to an attractive person before, for crying out loud, and this guy is the farthest thing from intimidating Chenle has ever seen.
“So,” he starts again after clearing his throat. “You can tell me what’s wrong. If you want, I mean.”
The mystery person gives him a curious look, as though he isn’t sure why Chenle even cares. Hell, even Chenle isn’t quite sure why he even cares. There’s just something so… innocent seeming about the guy, something that makes Chenle want to pat his head and tell him everything is going to be okay.
He cringes at the thought. What the hell is wrong with him today?
“Well,” the guy finally speaks up. His voice is almost hushed. “I kinda missed my bus.”
“Your bus?”
“My bus home.” He pulls his sleeves over his hands, shivering. Chenle frowns, looking around for some sort of cover from the rain, but there’s none besides the actual buildings on the street. “I got out of work a little late, and I missed it by a second. The next one isn’t for an hour.” He stiffens, suddenly, appearing embarrassed. “Um… It’s really not a big deal, though. Really.”
“I see.” Chenle has so many questions, he doesn’t know where to start. “Why are you waiting outside, though?”
The guy winces. “Too embarrassed to tell Ren—uh, my boss that I missed the bus.”
Chenle blinks. Ren—? His eyes shift to the physical therapy office, then back to the guy who was pacing outside said office. “You work with Renjun, huh?”
Shock washes over the guy’s face. “Y-Yeah, I…” His mouth opens and closes.
“We’re old friends,” Chenle explains. He laughs, then. “Are you scared of him or something? Well, I guess I wouldn’t blame you.” He’s suddenly even more curious about this stranger than before. Renjun tells him a lot about his workplace. Overshares, really. “…You’re not Park Jisung, are you?”
Renjun does like to complain about the new assistant who’s “ridiculously clumsy and a little pathetic” but “ten times smarter than any of the other part-timers.” Chenle can tell from the way Renjun talks about him that he’s got a secret soft spot for Jisung, but his friend can come off harsh, especially when it comes to things like work.
The guy freezes up. He looks nothing short of mortified. “Oh, god,” he mumbles, voice weak. “He’s talked about me?”
Chenle feels a little bad about how close the guy—Jisung—looks to fainting. Shit. “Oh, only good things,” he lies. “He talks a lot about work is all. He’s very… passionate about his job.”
Jisung visibly relaxes. “Oh… Yeah, um, I work with him part-time.”
“I know,” Chenle says, then grimaces at himself. “Sorry, that sounded, uh… I’m Chenle. Zhong Chenle. I’m the owner of—” He motions behind him, across the street. “Well, you know.”
“Owner?” Jisung straightens his posture, like Chenle had said he’s the president of the country or something. “Wow, cool.” Immediately after, though, he winces, wrapping his arms around himself, and Chenle feels a fresh wave of pity. The rainstorm is unreasonably harsh, and this poor guy isn’t dressed for it at all.
“You’re really so scared of Renjun that you’re going to wait out in the rain for the next hour?” Chenle asks, half-teasing. “And where’s your jacket?”
“F-Forgot it,” Jisung answers, ignoring Chenle’s first question. Fuck, his teeth are chattering. Why does Chenle sort of want to give him a hug? “I—I took a nap after class and overslept, and then I was late for work. So I was in a big rush today.”
Chenle feels a rush of sympathy. No wonder Jisung doesn’t want to bother Renjun.
“Class, huh?” He tries to recall what other details Renjun has given him about Park Jisung. Most of Renjun’s part-timers are students, he knows.
Out of nowhere, a clap of thunder interrupts them. Jisung startles so hard he falls forward, and Chenle lunges to steady him, gripping him by the arms.
“Shit,” Chenle hisses, glaring at the sky. It’s getting really late, and he needs to head back to the restaurant. Make sure none of his employees have burned it down, start closing, et cetera.
He looks at Jisung and sighs.
There’s no way in hell Chenle is going to leave him out in the rain like this.
“Come on,” he says without another thought. He releases Jisung once he’s sure he’s steady on his feet and offers his hand. Jisung takes it, though he looks at Chenle like he just grew a second head.
“Come where?”
“To the restaurant. Your bus isn’t for an hour, right?” He starts to walk, and Jisung stumbles along behind him. “I’m not leaving you out here.”
“No, no, I…” Jisung freezes, and Chenle stops. “I really shouldn’t. I don’t get paid until tomorrow, so…”
Chenle huffs. Could this guy make him any sadder?
“You don’t have to pay to hide from the rain,” he reassures, giving Jisung’s hand a light tug until he gives in and follows along. Mindlessly, he adds, “I’ll even make you something. On the house.”
He isn’t entirely sure where the words came from. He does cook—it’s his passion, really. But it’s almost closing time, and he’s supposed to be making sure everything runs smoothly.
Oh, well. A little time in the kitchen won’t kill him. In fact, it might lift his mood—though the annoyance from before has mostly subsided.
“Wait, really?” Jisung sounds like he wants to cry. Chenle nods and squeezes his hand tight as they start to cross the street. He isn’t sure why he’s leading this guy along like he can’t walk himself to the restaurant, but Jisung’s hand is surprisingly warm despite how cold it is, so Chenle doesn’t let go until they make it to the backdoor.
Jisung’s body visibly trembles with a shiver as they enter, likely in response to the temperature change. He’s completely soaked; it’s even clearer under the restaurant lighting. Chenle sighs.
“Wait here,” he says, motioning for Jisung to stand at the back of the kitchen where they entered. Jisung looks around wide-eyed, like he’s never seen the back of a restaurant before. “Oh, and if anyone tries to talk to you, tell them I brought you.”
“O-Okay.”
Chenle heads to his office, where he hangs his jacket. He’s always leaving hoodies and whatnot behind. Surely, he can find something for Jisung to wear.
Not wanting to leave the guy hanging around in the kitchen for too long—his employees are nosy—he rummages through his stash and picks out a black hoodie with a constellation on it. Good enough.
When he turns to leave the office, though, someone is blocking the doorway.
Chenle sighs. “What are you doing back here?” he asks Donghyuck, the pizzeria’s only full-time waiter.
“It’s so slow. I’m bored,” Donghyuck whines. “Plus, I have a question.”
Chenle rolls his eyes. “What?”
“Who’s the cute wet boy you left in the back of the kitchen with Jaemin and Mark?”
Panic fills Chenle. He did leave a cute wet boy in the back of the kitchen, but he certainly did not leave him with Jaemin and Mark.
“You’re kidding me,” he mutters. He left Jisung for a minute, maybe, and he’s already been pounced on by the others? “Move out of my way.”
He pushes past Donghyuck, who yelps and whines, “You didn’t answer me!”
Things in the back of the kitchen are just as Chenle feared. Jisung is in the corner by the mops with Jaemin and Mark hovering over him, visibly shaking. Chenle doesn’t know if that’s because of the soggy cold hoodie he’s wearing or because of fear, but he’s going to intervene, anyway.
“Hey,” he snaps. “You two. Back off.”
Mark turns around and waves. “Oh, there you are!”
Jaemin swivels around, too. “Back off?” he echoes with blatantly feigned confusion. “Babycakes, we were just wondering where the poor guy came from.”
“Babycakes?” Chenle and Donghyuck snap in unison. Chenle’s voice is full of disgust, Donghyuck’s full of betrayal.
Chenle turns to face Donghyuck, eyes narrowed. He didn’t even know Donghyuck followed him from the office.
“What are you doing back here?” he snaps.
“I already told you I’m bored, and you never told me who our new coworker is!” Donghyuck pushes past Chenle and hangs off of Jaemin. “Babe, did Chenle tell you we were hiring?”
“He’s not your new coworker,” Chenle groans. He makes brief, apologetic eye contact with Jisung, who’s standing wide-eyed and still trembling. “He’s just—uh, he’s just a friend.” Jisung tilts his head, a surprised smile on his lips, and Chenle cringes at his own lie. “And I’m going to be making him dinner, so…”
Chenle surveys the three employees, grimacing. Which one of them is least likely to let the restaurant crumble? Jaemin is of the highest position after Chenle, but he’s needed in the kitchen. Besides, he can never be trusted with closing duties when Donghyuck is near.
“Mark,” Chenle finally settles on. “You’re in charge of closing tonight. Donghyuck, if you or any of the other waiters get too many salad orders, pass some of them onto Jaemin.”
“Wait, me?” Mark sounds amazed. “Awesome! I’ve always wanted to be in charge.”
“You’re going to cook? At this hour?” Jaemin asks Chenle.
“You never cook past eight,” Donghyuck says, grinning. He looks at Jisung, then at Chenle, eyes shining curiously. Chenle knows exactly where his mind is going.
“Both of you. Get back to work,” Chenle snaps before Donghyuck, or Jaemin, or anyone can say anything to embarrass him in front of Renjun’s cute part-timer. “Now.”
Donghyuck groans. Jaemin cackles. Mark exclaims, “I can’t believe I’m in charge!”
Chenle waves the three of them away, approaching the quivering Jisung with a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he says. His face feels unnaturally hot—and it’s not easy to embarrass him. “They’re menaces, my employees.”
“I feel like I’m intruding,” Jisung says, voice guilty. “You really don’t have to cook for me, Chenle.”
Chenle’s stomach flips hearing his name roll off of Jisung’s tongue with such familiarity, though he doesn’t understand why. He clears his throat.
“I want to,” he insists. “I threw a trash bag at you, so… Let me make you dinner and we’ll call it even.” He suddenly remembers the hoodie in his hands and all but thrusts out his arms, face even hotter. “Also, here.”
Jisung’s eyes bulge. “Wh-What’s this?”
“A hoodie. A dry one.” Chenle smiles, somewhat shy. “You must be freezing.”
“Oh. Oh.” Jisung’s eyebrows draw together. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Chenle holds the hoodie further out, and Jisung hesitantly takes it. “I’ll show you where the bathrooms are, and then Jeno can find you somewhere to sit until your bus comes.”
“Thank you,” Jisung whispers. “You’re really sweet.”
Chenle’s mouth goes dry. Sweet? No one calls him that except for his grandma.
“It’s—It’s nothing,” he splutters, then internally curses at himself. “Come this way.”
He enters the bathroom first to make sure it’s not a total disaster, then leaves Jisung so he can change into the hoodie. Fanning his face, he makes his way over to Jeno, who’s talking to Donghyuck. He can’t make out what they’re saying, but he hears his name and starts to walk faster.
“Hey, no gossiping,” he growls. He throws Donghyuck an accusatory glare. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing!” Donghyuck exclaims. “Just that we have the pleasure of serving the cutiepie you’re crushing on tonight. What’s his name? How long have you known him?”
Chenle’s stomach drops through the floor. He grits his teeth. “What the hell is the matter with you? I’m not crushing on him,” he hisses. “And I’m not telling you. Also, you’re the last person I’m going to let serve him.”
“My last table is getting up as we speak, and everyone else has their hands full,” Donghyuck says with a deeply satisfied grin. “Looks like he’s mine to wait on.”
“I’m sorry… Who is this we’re talking about?” Jeno cuts in, appearing mildly baffled.
“A friend,” Chenle rushes, before Donghyuck can open his mouth. “A friend who you’re going to seat just like a normal customer. Okay?”
“A cute friend—who Chenle’s going to cook for,” Donghyuck adds in a loud whisper.
“You’re cooking this late?” Jeno asks, eyes wide. “ I’m cute, and you’d never cook for me at this hour!”
“The fact that he’s cute has nothing to do with anything,” Chenle snaps.
“So you admit it, huh? You think rain boy is cute,” Donghyuck says, obnoxiously loud, eyes darting behind Chenle. Chenle has no idea why he’s speaking at such a high volume, or why he’s looking over Chenle’s shoulder, until—
“Um, Chenle?”
Chenle’s blood runs cold. He turns around slowly, like he’s in a horror movie, face flaming.
“…Jisung,” he says weakly. Jisung is clad in the borrowed hoodie now, and Chenle has a much better view of his features without the hood of the soggy one he was wearing before—now bunched up in his hands—dangling over his face. His cheeks are tinted pink, his eyes are shimmering, and his hair is damp and ruffled, though brushed out of his face.
Yes, Chenle finds him cute. Who the fuck wouldn’t?
“Jisung, huh?” Donghyuck murmurs from behind Chenle.
“Don’t talk to him, Hyuck,” Chenle grits out without even turning around. Jisung looks bewildered, so Chenle offers him a pained smile. “Jisung, please ignore anything the waiter behind me says.”
“Oh, um… Okay.” Jisung lets out a soft laugh like he’s flustered. “Thank you for the hoodie.”
Chenle’s face burns. He can just feel Donghyuck grinning at the back of his head. “It’s nothing,” he rushes. “Jeno is going to seat you now. What can I grab you to drink in the meantime?”
“Water is fine,” Jisung mumbles, fiddling with the sleeves of the hoodie. “Are—Are you sure it’s okay for me to take up a whole table?”
“He’d let you take up the whole restaurant if he could, our generous Chenle,” Donghyuck speaks up, appearing at Chenle’s side and throwing an arm around his shoulders. Chenle stiffens, staring metaphorical daggers into his annoyingly smug face. “What? I was complimenting you!”
Chenle shrugs him off. “Go help Jaemin clean the kitchen,” he says. Donghyuck’s eyes bulge. Chenle swears he can see stars in his irises. God, couples make him sick.
“Really?” Donghyuck squeaks. “Actually, no take backs. I’m gone!” He darts off toward the kitchen before Chenle can reply, and Chenle sighs. How incredibly easy.
“I’m sorry,” Chenle says to Jisung. “I promise our host won’t be a bother.” He turns to Jeno and jerks his chin wordlessly.
Jeno nods, the most obedient out of the employees, but there’s an amused smile on his lips. “Follow me,” he says to Jisung.
Jisung whispers a soft thanks to Chenle and touches his shoulder gently as he passes, heading after Jeno into the dining room. Chenle shakes his head to try and clear his mind, then makes a run for the kitchen so he can fetch a glass of water.
The kitchen is already in much better shape than it was some minutes ago. “Great job so far, Mark,” he says, clapping Mark on the shoulder.
Mark beams at him. “You should leave me in charge more often!”
Chenle shakes his head and smiles as he fills a clean glass. “Just make sure thing one and thing two don’t sneak off to make out,” he mutters before moving to head out of the kitchen. He swears he hears Mark say They already did under his breath, but he chooses to ignore him for the moment.
Jisung is sitting in the far right corner of the dining room, fidgeting with his hands and looking out the window at the rain. Chenle swallows hard as he makes his way over to him, suddenly nervous.
“Here,” he says, placing the water down. He frowns. “Oh, Jeno didn’t give you a menu, huh?”
“Thank you,” Jisung says, eyes sparkling. “He didn’t, but… You really don’t have to make me food.”
Chenle puts a hand on his hip, eyeing Jisung curiously. “You’re not hungry after work?” he questions.
“No, I’m starving,” Jisung admits. Chenle laughs at his bluntness.
“Then I’m definitely cooking for you,” he murmurs. “Just tell me what you feel like eating. We make pizza, obviously. Uh… Salad, soup… Pasta.”
Jisung’s eyes light up. “Do you have buttered noodles?”
Chenle’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. Yes, they do have buttered noodles—on the Kids 7 & Under menu.
“It’s technically on the kids’ menu, so the portions are pretty tiny, but…” Jisung’s face falls, and Chenle panics. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m in charge, after all.”
Jisung immediately perks up. He gives Chenle a timid smile. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. I’ll make you some to take home, too.”
Chenle wants to slap himself. He keeps making these strange promises without thinking, and he has no idea why.
But then Jisung starts to mumble Oh, you really don’t… and Chenle is abruptly twice as determined to keep his word.
“Quiet,” he says with a gentle smile. “Anything else? I can bring you some bread.”
Jisung purses his lips. “Bread would be nice…” he breathes.
Suddenly, Chenle wants to give him all the bread in the restaurant. “I’ll be right back,” he says. He resists the urge to pat Jisung on the head and spins around to head to the kitchen.
Jaemin and Donghyuck eye him with matching grins as he makes his way behind the bars again. Their lips are swollen, their hair mussed. Chenle groans.
“Hook up in my restaurant one more time, and I’m never pairing you two up again,” he threatens, passing them to prepare a basket of bread.
“It was barely a peck,” Jaemin says. Chenle rolls his eyes, thoroughly unconvinced.
“And look how much we cleaned!” Donghyuck pitches in. “How’s our Jisung?”
“Don’t refer to him like that,” Chenle groans. “Poor thing is starving, so keep cleaning and stay out of my way. I’m going to make him buttered noodles.”
“Is he five?” Jaemin asks with a chuckle. Chenle glares at him.
“You want to clean the bathrooms instead of the bussers?”
Jaemin puts his hands up in surrender, and Chenle turns away to prepare a fresh pot of water for the pasta.
“Mark, can you watch the stove while I bring out this bread?” he asks. Mark comes over and ruffles the back of Chenle’s hair, making Chenle whine.
“You got it. How’s your cute friend?”
“Why does everyone think he’s cute?” Chenle huffs.
“I mean, he is! I’m not saying that I’m attracted to him, or anything, ’cause, you know…” He throws a fond glance across the counter, toward where Jeno is chatting with one of the part-time waiters. “But he’s cute, like… I don’t know, like a stray puppy you found on the street and brought back to the restaurant for us to play with.”
Chenle rolls his eyes at Mark. That’s more or less exactly what Jisung is, minus the last part. Chenle is not going to let the others play with him.
“I’ll be right back,” he says.
Jisung’s glass of water is halfway empty by the time Chenle makes it over with the bread, but when he grabs it to refill, Jisung becomes flustered.
“It’s fine!” he insists. “You’ve done enough for me, seriously.”
Chenle sighs.
“Seriously,” Jisung repeats. “Why are you so sweet, Chenle?”
Chenle’s ears start to burn. “I’m—I’m not,” he splutters, startled by the unusually good impression he’s left on Jisung.
There’s just something about you.
“Did you ever take your dinner break?” Mark asks Chenle, just as he finishes plating the noodles for Jisung.
“No,” Chenle admits. He usually takes his last break and eats dinner when the restaurant dies down, but he’s been a little occupied tonight.
“Well, today’s your lucky day!” Mark tells him excitedly. “I made an extra chopped salad!”
Chenle narrows his eyes, perplexed. “What does that have to do with me? Give it to one of the bussers to take home.”
“Chenle, you love my chopped salads,” Mark says, sounding exasperated. “So I’m giving it to you. Go eat, man.”
Chenle shakes his head. “I can’t eat right now. I have to take this pasta out to Jisung.”
“Exactly,” Mark continues. “Take the salad, and eat with him.”
“What?” Chenle flushes. Eat with Jisung?
“I think you heard me loud and clear, dude,” Mark says, laughing. “And who’s in charge tonight? Who’s in charge, Chenle?”
“You’re in charge of closing,” Chenle argues. “You’re not in charge of me.”
“C’mon,” Mark whines. “I played cupid for Jaemin and Donghyuck when they were pretending they hated each other’s guts, and I finally won over the boy of my dreams last month.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Mark?” Chenle snaps. He eyes the plate of buttered noodles worriedly. “Knock it off. The pasta is going to get cold.”
“Dude,” Mark says, like Chenle offended him. “I’m like the Michelangelo of romance. I know my stuff. You should really go eat with him. I know you want to. Just admit it!”
“It doesn’t matter if I want to. I’m at work.” As the words leave Chenle’s mouth, he scowls. “And what do you mean romance?” Hands shaking, he grabs the plate of pasta. “I’m taking this out. Just… go back to closing. Please.”
“Dude!” Mark calls, but Chenle ignores him and heads out of the kitchen.
Jisung’s glass of water is fully empty when Chenle arrives at his table, as is his basket of bread.
“Sorry for the wait,” Chenle says. Jisung’s breath hitches as he places down the plate.
“No, it’s… Wow. This looks perfect.”
Chenle blushes. That’s one of his favorite compliments to hear. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles. “I’ll bring you the leftovers when you’re done. How much time do you have before your bus?”
“Twenty-five minutes, I think? I can eat fast, though.” He looks up at Chenle shyly through his eyelashes. “Really, really, really thank you.”
Chenle feels like he’s about to explode from embarrassment. “I promise it’s not a big deal,” he says. “Can I get you anything else?”
Jisung suddenly looks distracted, though. Chenle turns, following his line of sight, and groans.
“Hyuck, what are you doing?” he asks Donghyuck tiredly. His eyes drop to the bowl and utensil set in Donghyuck’s hands, and his stomach twists into a knot.
“Doing my job, duh.” Donghyuck puts the bowl and utensil set down across from Jisung, and Chenle stares down at them with disdain.
“That better not be Mark’s chopped salad,” he mutters.
Jisung looks up at Chenle, confused, utensils in hand. “Mark’s… chopped salad?”
“Chenle said he wanted to eat with you, so our salad guy Mark told me to bring this out to the table,” Donghyuck murmurs sweetly.
Jisung goes red in the face. “You did?” he says to Chenle.
“Uh…” He’s going to fire them all. Mark, Donghyuck, Jaemin. Jeno, too, just because he’s dating Mark. “I—I mean, I guess I might’ve implied it.”
“He skipped his dinner break to cook for you,” Donghyuck adds. Chenle wants to throw the salad at his head.
“You did?” Jisung repeats softly.
“Donghyuck,” Chenle snaps.
“Don’t give me that look,” Donghyuck says. “Sit down and eat, would you? We’re closing soon.”
“Shit, really?” Jisung asks, sounding panicked.
“Hey, no rush,” Chenle tells him. He turns back to Donghyuck. “Tell Mark I’m never putting him in charge again.”
“I’ll tell him you said thank you for the food,” Donghyuck answers. Chenle rolls his eyes but reluctantly sits across from Jisung.
“Thanks, Hyuck,” he sighs. Donghyuck doesn’t move, though. He trains his eyes on Jisung as he takes the first bite of his pasta.
“Are you single?” he blurts.
Jisung chokes on his food. Chenle chokes on air.
“What is the matter with you? He’s a customer!”
“Technically, he’s your friend who’s eating for free,” Donghyuck says. “And he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to.”
Jisung finishes coughing and clears his throat. “Um. I mean, I—I am.”
Oh. Chenle feels warm, suddenly.
“Lovely,” Donghyuck says. “You two have so much in common.”
“Donghyuck,” Chenle growls. “Leave him the hell alone, will you?”
Donghyuck only smiles innocently and grabs Jisung’s empty glass. “I’ll be back with two waters.”
“No—” Chenle starts, but Donghyuck ignores him and waltzes away. Chenle groans. He can’t even look Jisung in the eye. “I’m sorry.”
Jisung giggles, though, a soft sound. Chenle’s heart skips a beat. “It’s fine,” he whispers. “You’re nice, all of you.” He takes another bite of the pasta. “And this is really good.”
Chenle’s heart feels like it’s going to burst. “I made plenty for you to take home.”
“You didn’t have to,” Jisung says after he swallows. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”
Chenle shrugs. “I felt like it.”
Jisung’s face is flushed adorably. He mostly focuses on eating his food, which is understandable seeing that he has a bus to catch, but in between bites he continues to make conversation with Chenle, coming out of his shell more and more as the minutes pass.
Chenle learns a decent amount about him. He’s in grad school full time. An astrophysics program. Renjun was right; he must be incredibly smart. His passion is studying space and the universe, but he has a soft spot for those who need physical therapy. He grew up doing dance—up until an ankle injury in high school tore the hobby away from him. He started interning with a physical therapist at the start of college, and now he works as Renjun’s assistant part-time.
“He’s super good at what he does,” Jisung gushes. “I try my best to be useful, but he still hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Chenle reassures with a laugh. “Renjun is just like that. If he’s hard on you, it means he has a soft spot for you.”
Chenle tells him a little bit about himself, too. He got his degrees in business and management, but his main hobby is basketball. He played all the way until his third year of college. (Until his first serious boyfriend, team captain, dumped him for one of the first-years and basically bullied him off the team—though he doesn’t tell Jisung this much.) He keeps up with it to this day, and sometimes he still plays for fun, but work takes up most of his time.
There’s only one family left in the restaurant by the time they’re done eating, and the employees have done a decent job tidying the place up. Chenle should feel relieved, but he has this odd feeling twisting his gut into knots.
He’s almost reluctant to let Jisung leave, which is just ridiculous. They’re not actually friends, but it sort of feels like they are—or that they could be.
Chenle bites down on the inside of his cheek as he brings their empty dishes back into the kitchen. He could offer to give Jisung a ride home so he doesn’t have to rush to make the bus, but that feels somewhat creepy, and he has no idea how far Jisung lives.
So, with a disappointed sigh, he collects the take-out box with the rest of Jisung’s buttered noodles and beckons for him to come behind the counter into the kitchen.
“I’ll walk you out,” he says. “And be careful—Jaemin just mopped.”
“Um, do you want your hoodie back first?” Jisung asks as they make it to the backdoor.
“Nah.” Chenle offers Jisung a small smile. “You can bring it back some other time, after work.” He shrugs. “Or you can just keep it.”
Jisung’s cheeks flush. “I’ll bring it back,” he promises. “Also, you don’t have to walk me out… The bus stop is right at the corner of the street.”
Chenle wants to argue, but he also doesn’t want to be too bothersome. “You sure?”
Jisung nods. “I’m sure.”
“Here, then.” Chenle holds out the box of pasta, and Jisung cautiously takes it.
“Thank you, seriously,” he mumbles. “Sorry for being such a burden tonight.”
“What are you on about?” Chenle grumbles. “You didn’t ask me for a thing. I offered to do this.”
“Yeah… Thanks.” Jisung sighs, then smiles softly. “Have a good night, Chenle.”
Chenle swallows, nodding. “Get home safe.”
He feels a wave of unease when Jisung pushes open the door, like he’s never going to see him again, like he doesn’t work across the street, with one of Chenle’s best friends. He pushes down the feeling as best he can and waves goodbye.
He’s just about to go check on the remaining waiters when Jisung turns back, halfway out the door. “Oh, um, also,” he says, making Chenle freeze up. His eyes dart up to Chenle’s face, and his lips twitch into a playful smile. “I—I think you’re cute, too.”
And then he’s spinning around and letting the door close behind him, removing himself from Chenle’s sight.
“Please, Renjun,” Chenle begs, hand shaking where it holds his phone up to his ear. He hardly says things like please—especially to Renjun—but he’s desperate. “Just give me your cute assistant’s number, and no one will get hurt. Okay?”
“Ask him yourself, silly,” Renjun replies. He sounds far too entertained. Chenle huffs disbelievingly. “What? I’m not scared of you, Chenle.”
Chenle sighs, rubbing his forehead with his free hand as he paces back and forth across his bedroom. It’s around midnight, and his dog has a vet appointment before he opens the restaurant tomorrow. In other words, he should be asleep.
But he just can’t stop thinking about him.
Jisung.
“Will you give him mine, then?” Chenle asks. His voice is bordering on whiny, and he hates the sound of it. “Or at least tell him, uh…”
“Chenle, really,” Renjun says, giggling. “I’ve never heard you sound so desperate for anything. Anyone. Not even in our dorm days… Not even when you had that pathetic crush on our sexy RA. The one that ghosted you after he got into your pants. Remember him?”
“Why are you bringing that up?” Chenle groans.
“I’m just saying. What kind of spell did Jisung put you under?”
“I just want to get to know him a little better,” Chenle grits out, then cringes. Who says that about someone they’ve spent an hour around?
“Come to the office, then, if you want to see him so bad,” Renjun says with a snicker. “You never visit me anymore. Asshole.”
“I don’t know his schedule, and I know you won’t tell me,” Chenle sighs. “Can you please tell him I mentioned him, at least? Maybe that’ll remind him to stop by.”
“Chenle, did he not call you cute to your face?” Renjun sounds exasperated. “The Jisung I know would pass out before doing something so bold. Like, his voice trembles when he asks me if he can use the bathroom. I’m pretty sure he’ll stop by on his own.”
“You should really be a little nicer to him,” Chenle snaps.
Renjun cackles. “Seriously, what did he do to you?”
Chenle flops down on his bed, head pounding. “I’m going to bed. This entire phone call was meaningless. I hope all your patients tomorrow are grumpy old people.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Renjun mutters. “I’ll tell Jisung you’re straight.”
“Don’t you dare—” Chenle starts to growl, and then the line goes dead.
Weekends at the pizzeria are busy. Great for sales, bad for Chenle’s sanity. There’s always something that needs to be done, yet never enough time to do it. The bustling atmosphere does make for a good distraction, though, and a distraction is just what Chenle needs right now.
He would like to say he’s thought about Jisung a normal amount since the night they met.
However, it would be a lie.
It’s only been three days, and it’s like the universe is trying to make everything about the guy. Someone’s kid throws a bowl of buttered noodles on the ground, and Chenle thinks about Jisung. Trash bags pile up at the backdoor, and Chenle thinks about Jisung. There’s a rain shower outside, and Chenle thinks about Jisung.
“I’m taking out the trash,” he grunts to Jaemin. “Make sure no one dies.”
“Again?” Mark calls from the salad bar. “Dude, that would be, like, the fourth time today, and it’s not even your job.”
“Well, someone has to do it,” Chenle snaps. “I’m just tired of looking at it, okay?”
He doesn’t want to admit that Mark is right. They’re at the peak of the night, and he has a number of things he should be doing, like helping Jaemin throw together pizzas or assist with take-out orders. One of the bussers could easily do the trash.
But Chenle can’t fight it. This magnetic pull, almost, to the physical therapy office across the street.
He hauls the trash bags outside and checks the restaurant’s dumpsters. They’ve been recently emptied, leaving plenty of room for the bags. In other words, he has no excuse to cross the street and use the other building’s dumpsters again like he had to the other night.
Still, he looks across the street and sighs. Counts to ten, like Jisung will come stumbling out the door within that time frame.
And then…
Nothing.
“Get a grip,” Chenle tells himself for what feels like the hundredth time today. He tosses the trash bags into the dumpster and heads back into the restaurant.
When he enters the kitchen again, his blood begins to boil. Donghyuck has appeared in the minute he’s been gone, glued to Jaemin’s side.
Another thing that’s been driving Chenle up the wall ever since Jisung left his restaurant that night: happy couples.
“Donghyuck,” he hisses. “What are you doing back here? I know you have tables.”
Donghyuck meets his eyes, and for the first time ever since he started working at Chenle’s restaurant, Chenle sees specks of guilt in his eyes. He freezes, startled.
“Right…” Donghyuck says. “About that.”
“What is it?” Chenle asks, suddenly worried. Donghyuck looks so serious, which is not at all a common occurrence.
“Well, you see… Jeno just sat a couple in my section.”
Chenle’s eyebrows furrow. “And?”
“It’s him.” Donghyuck makes a pained expression. “Your boy. He’s here… on a date.”
Chenle’s stomach falls through his ass to the floor. “What boy? I don’t…” He doesn’t have a boy, but… Could it possibly be? “You don’t mean…”
“It’s him, I swear. Rain boy. What was his name?”
Rain boy. It’s Jisung, no doubt.
“Jisung,” Chenle breathes.
“Yeah! Yeah…” Donghyuck reaches out and pats his shoulder comfortingly. “Sorry, Chenle. Jeno just sat them—him and some other guy. They were holding hands and everything.”
“What?” Chenle isn’t processing this at all. Jisung is here… on a date?
Did he not just say he was single three days ago? Some minutes before telling Chenle he thought he was cute?
Was he lying—or did Chenle really just miss his chance?
Fuck. Fuck.
“Okay,” he whispers, trying to swallow away the tightness in his throat. “Thanks for telling me.”
Really, there’s nothing he can do if Jisung is here on a date. They’ve only met once, after all, and Chenle didn’t even have the guts to ask for his number. There’s nothing tying them together aside from a hoodie that Chenle technically told Jisung he could keep. Jisung doesn’t owe him anything.
Maybe he imagined the connection he felt between them. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Whoa, whoa,” Jaemin cuts in. “There’s no way. You sure it’s Chenle’s boy?”
Chenle’s boy.
Chenle sighs. “Jaemin, really—”
“Go see for yourself!” Donghyuck tells Jaemin. “They’re at table three.”
“Uh huh…” Jaemin sounds unconvinced. He puts down the spatula he’s holding. “I’ll be right back.”
“Jaemin,” Chenle snaps, but Jaemin is already making his way out of the kitchen toward the dining area.
Donghyuck gives Chenle another sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Chenle shakes him off.
“Get back to work,” he says. “And don’t say a thing to Jisung or his date.”
“Wait, what?” Mark calls from the salad bar. “Did I hear Jisung and date? Congrats, man!”
“Mark, no—” Donghyuck starts softly.
“Stop eavesdropping, Mark!” Chenle seethes. “He’s here on a date, okay?”
Mark’s eyes bulge. “Huh?”
Suddenly, Jaemin reappears at the pizza bar. His face is pale. Chenle has never seen such an expression on his face.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… He really is at three with some boy.”
Chenle’s heart twists painfully. “It’s fine,” he hisses. “Everyone stop fucking around.”
“Wait, I wanna see!” Mark says. “Jaemin, can you finish up this chopped salad for me?”
Chenle grits his teeth. “No—”
“Sure thing,” Jaemin butts in, taking Mark’s place at the salad bar. Mark darts away before Chenle has a chance to halt him.
“This restaurant is a joke,” Chenle mutters.
He needs everyone to get back to work. He needs to get back to work. He should check on the soups. On the other waiters. On the bussers.
Yet he can’t move a muscle, standing frozen with Jaemin and Donghyuck until Mark returns.
Mark’s head is lowered when he enters the kitchen again. He’s grimacing, avoiding eye contact.
“Mark, don’t,” Chenle warns before Mark can speak.
Mark talks, anyway. “I mean, yeah, they were sitting together and laughing about something, but… How do we know they’re on a date?”
“Hyuck saw them holding hands when they came in,” Jaemin supplies.
“Ah, crap. Platonic hand holding, maybe?”
“Will everyone shut the hell up?” Chenle hollers. “Forget it, okay? Everyone get back to work now.”
He doesn’t stick around for a response. He heads to the back of the kitchen, pacing by the dishwashers. His palms are sweating.
It’s not a big deal, he wants to tell himself. Jisung is basically a stranger, for fuck’s sake.
So why does Chenle feel this way?
“Hey, Chenle…” Donghyuck calls a minute or two later.
“What?” Chenle groans. “Hyuck, you’re not supposed to be back here when it’s busy.”
“Yeah, but one of my tables wants to talk to you,” Donghyuck says. “Table two. Something about planning a birthday party next weekend.”
Oh, god.
“Can they meet me by the counter?” Chenle asks weakly. He knows he sounds ridiculous, but he really does not want to go into the dining room right now. Especially not in the section Jisung is sitting in with his date.
“Chenle, they’re eating,” Donghyuck says softly, gaze pitying.
Fuck.
“Okay,” Chenle mutters. “Thanks, I’ll…” He sighs. “I’ll go talk to them now.”
Chenle’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he makes his way out of the kitchen and toward the dining room. He shoves his hands in his pockets and grits his teeth. From the way the tables are set up, there’s no way of avoiding Jisung, but Chenle is a professional. He’ll spare him a glance—a polite smile, even—then focus his attention on table two.
Holding his breath, he steps into the room and braces himself.
Sure enough, Jisung is sitting at table three, across from some blonde guy. He’s dressed like he came straight from work—which is a little odd but ultimately none of Chenle’s business.
Does Chenle feel sick to his stomach seeing him like this? Maybe. It’s not his place to feel anything—except hospitality, of course—toward a customer, though, so he tears his eyes away and takes a step toward table two.
Only to be interrupted.
“Chenle, babydoll!”
Chenle goes rigid for a moment. There’s no way.
Alarmed, he swivels to the source of the voice. He would be able to recognize the person it belonged to in his sleep.
It’s…
“Fucking Renjun?” he balks.
The blonde—the one Jisung is here on a date with—is now turned in his chair, eyeing Chenle with amusement.
It’s Renjun.
“What’s with the attitude?” Renjun snaps. “You should be on your knees thanking me! Look who I’m treating to pizza!”
Throat tight, Chenle shifts his gaze to Jisung. Jisung is beaming at him, cheeks pink.
“Hi, Chenle,” he says.
Chenle’s stomach ties itself into a knot.
“Since when were you blonde?” he says to Renjun, voice strained. He can’t believe it. His employees had him so worked up thinking Jisung was actually here on a date with someone, and—
The whole time, he was with Renjun. His boss.
“A month, Chenle. A whole month. Which you would’ve known if you ever left your apartment—or this damn restaurant.”
Renjun sounds mildly annoyed, but Chenle can’t hold back the smile that breaks out on his face. He’s so relieved, it’s not even funny.
He looks at Jisung again. “Welcome back,” he murmurs. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“That’s saying a lot,” Renjun whispers loudly to Jisung.
“Happy to be back,” Jisung mumbles with a more reserved smile. He’s so red in the face, it’s adorable. “Um, sorry I forgot your hoodie. I washed it, though!”
“No worries,” Chenle reassures him. “Uh, I have to talk to some customers about a party quickly. I’ll be back, so don’t go anywhere.”
“Our waiter hasn’t even gotten our drink orders yet, so don’t worry,” Renjun teases. “He’s not making out with that head chef of yours, is he?”
Chenle sighs. Did their waiter have to be Donghyuck?
“He’ll be with you shortly,” Chenle promises.
It’s nearly impossible to focus on talking to the family at table two. Jisung is right there; Chenle can feel his soft gaze even with his back turned. Still, birthday parties can be great for business, so he spends about five minutes discussing and planning.
When he turns back to Jisung and Renjun’s table, they have their drinks and a basket of bread. Donghyuck is standing at the side of their table, the three of them in a fit of laughter. Jisung looks so cute when he laughs, Chenle immediately begins to smile, but then he catches part of what Donghyuck is saying.
“—so we had him all freaked out for nothing. Whole time, it was just you, Renjun! I only saw the back of your head, and the last time I saw you, your hair was—”
“Donghyuck,” Chenle hisses, face burning. There’s no doubt Donghyuck was just talking about him. “Do your job, will you?”
Renjun turns around to face him and giggles, mouth opening.
“Don’t,” Chenle says. “Not a word, Renjun.”
Renjun rolls his eyes and turns back to take a sip of his drink. Nervously, Chenle meets Jisung’s eyes, but Jisung is only beaming like before. He doesn’t look creeped out or put off by the story—or the implication that Chenle would be upset if he showed up at the restaurant with a date.
“I’ll come check on you guys after I make my rounds in the kitchen, okay?” Chenle tells the pair at the table. “Don’t hesitate to alert Jeno if you want to switch waiters.”
“Hey!” Donghyuck whines. Chenle resists the urge to elbow him as he passes and makes his way back to the kitchen.
Jaemin and Mark are eyeing him warily when he comes in.
“You dumbasses,” Chenle groans. “It’s just Renjun.”
“Yeah, Hyuck told us,” Mark says with an apologetic smile. “But he was facing the other way, and I had no idea he was blonde, so—!”
“Just focus on your salads, Mark,” Chenle sighs. “Since it’s slowing down, I’m going to make some buttered noodles.”
“Define slowing down,” Jaemin says with a laugh. “You don’t have to lie. I can handle the pizzas if you want to cook for your boyfriends.”
“I don’t have any boyfriends,” Chenle snaps. “But… I’d appreciate it, Jaemin.”
“On it.”
With another sigh, Chenle starts to cook the noodles. They don’t get very many pasta orders even on weekends, which is a shame considering it’s Chenle’s specialty. Though he’d say it’s pretty hard to mess up buttered noodles, he still tries to go above and beyond, preparing enough for Jisung to take home again.
The kitchen is in surprisingly decent shape for such a busy evening. Chenle pretends that’s the reason he can’t stop smiling as he plates the noodles and transfers the rest into a take-out container, writing Jisung with a little star symbol on top of the box.
Jisung and Renjun are just digging into their pizza by the time he brings the noodles out. He walks slowly, slightly nervous for some reason, but Jisung’s eyes catch him before long, so it’s too late to turn back and hide in the kitchen.
“Uh,” Chenle says, clearing his throat. He places the pasta beside Jisung’s plate. “I made something for you. On the house.”
Jisung’s eyes widen. “Oh, you didn’t—”
“—have to, I know,” Chenle finishes his sentence. “I wanted to, okay? There’s more for you to take home in the kitchen, so find me before you guys leave.”
“Thank you, Chenle,” Jisung whispers, eyes bright. “That’s so sweet of you.”
“Unusually so,” Renjun adds, looking up at Chenle with amusement. Chenle’s face flushes.
“How’s the food so far?” he asks to try and change the subject, eyeing their pizza curiously. Renjun’s half is covered in savory toppings, making Chenle’s mouth water, while Jisung’s side is nothing but mozzarella. “Huh. So you’re a plain cheese pizza type of person.”
“Toppings overwhelm me,” Jisung answers with a sweet laugh. “My mom used to order veggie pizzas when she was mad at me, and then I’d have to pick all the veggies out of the cheese.”
Chenle barks out a confused laugh. “Poor thing,” he says. “Well, you can have all the plain pizza you want whenever you come here.”
“What about me?” Renjun asks, batting his eyelashes dramatically. “Can I have all the pizza I want, too?”
“No,” Chenle snaps.
“Wow. Way to treat the person who used to clean up your vomit after parties and hug you when you got your heart broken.”
“Whoa, what?” Jisung cuts in.
“College roommates,” Renjun explains.
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah, we go way back. I can tell you all sorts of fun stories, Jisung, if only you start coming to work early.”
Chenle narrows his eyes at Renjun in warning. He can feel his ears burning. “Quit it, Renjun.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “I should get back to work.”
Renjun frowns. “Don’t you get some kind of dinner break?”
Oh, yeah. Chenle should probably take his break at some point. “Yeah… I’ll probably take it in a few.”
“Great. You can join us,” Renjun says.
Chenle’s eyebrows raise. “Oh, I—”
“Will you?” Jisung speaks up suddenly. Chenle whips to face him, face reddening. Jisung’s eyes are all wide and sparkly, and… ah, shit.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says quietly.
He ignores Renjun’s smirk as he makes his way back to the kitchen. The restaurant is starting to empty out, so it’s not the worst time to take his break, but he still feels a little guilty, a little selfish.
“Uh, Jaemin?” he calls as he grabs the take-out container with the rest of Jisung’s noodles in it. “I think I’m gonna take my break now. You think you can handle the kitchen?”
Jaemin gives him a knowing smile. “You’re going to go sit with your boyfriends, aren’t you?”
“Again… Not my boyfriends,” Chenle mutters.
Jaemin laughs loudly. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”
“Wait!” Mark calls as Chenle starts to exit the kitchen. “Hold up, I’ve got something for you!”
Chenle turns, and Mark runs at him with a bowl in hand.
“What?” Chenle asks.
“I made an extra chopped salad. Here.”
Chenle accepts the salad but sighs. “Again?”
“Just eat it, dude. You know you want to.”
With an eye roll, Chenle thanks Mark and strolls back to the dining room, trying to mentally prepare himself for the meal he’s about to have.
Dinner with Jisung and Renjun is an overwhelming experience, and that’s an understatement.
It all starts when Jisung scoots over on the bench he’s sitting on to make room for Chenle. Flustered, Chenle slides in next to him. He isn’t sure why he assumed he would be sitting next to Renjun, but he won’t complain, of course. It’s just different, sitting with his thigh brushed up against Jisung’s instead of across from him.
“It all started our first year,” Renjun begins after swallowing a bite of his pizza, and Chenle groans. Jisung leans in to listen intently. “Chenle was so cute back then. You don’t even know. He still thought he was straight even though he had a crush on our RA and half of the basketball team.”
“Renjun,” Chenle snaps, but then Jisung giggles, and he softens immediately.
“I thought he was nothing but an asshole at first because he liked sports, but he was so much more. I caught him kissing his poster of some male basketball player good night our first week, and I said, ‘I know what you are,’” Renjun sighs.
“That’s right. You played basketball,” Jisung says to Chenle. Chenle appreciates the fact that Jisung is talking to him like he’s actually present.
“He didn’t just play it. He breathed it. We all thought he was gonna make it big until he quit.”
Chenle rolls his eyes, blushing. “I was decent.”
“Why’d you quit?” Jisung asks. Chenle stiffens.
It’s been years, and he’s mostly over what happened. He even ran into his ex-boyfriend at the grocery store about a year ago, and he shook Chenle’s hand and apologized. Chenle wanted to run over his foot with his shopping cart, but he laughed off the urge and decided to forgive.
Renjun looks at Chenle, expectant.
“Messy break-up,” he mutters. “With the team captain. We, uh, didn’t get along too well after it happened.”
“He benched you every game and made your best friends shun you,” Renjun says sternly.
“Oh,” Jisung says quietly.
“This is old news,” Chenle reassures him. “I forgave him last year. He’s getting married now—or already did, probably.”
Renjun scowls. Probably because Chenle never told him that part.
“To the dude he dumped you for?” he asks disbelievingly.
“That’s the one,” Chenle says. “Can we change the topic now? Let’s reminisce about the happy times, Renjun.”
Renjun makes a face like he isn’t ready to drop the subject but relents with a nod. Chenle sighs in relief, about to stab at his salad again when he feels a sudden pressure on his knee.
He looks down and goes as still as a rock.
Jisung’s hand is on his knee.
When he spares Jisung a surprised glance, Jisung’s eyes are on Renjun, listening to him as he begins to recount the one disastrous—but fun—dorm party he and Chenle tried to throw back in college. At the same time, though, he rubs Chenle’s knee and squeezes it, like he’s moving on instinct.
Chenle feels faint. There’s warmth spreading through his entire thigh, suddenly, then coursing throughout the rest of his body.
Swallowing hard, he snakes a hand down and places it feather-light over Jisung’s. Barely hovering, at first.
Out of the corner of his eye, Chenle sees Jisung stiffen. He starts to worry that he overstepped, despite the fact that Jisung touched him first, but then Jisung squeezes his knee harder, twice, keeping his hand planted there.
Chenle sighs, relieved. Finally, he settles his hand on top of Jisung’s fully.
He’s so warm. Chenle is so fucked.
The rest of Chenle’s break runs smoothly, and Renjun doesn’t kill the mood again. In fact, he pulls out the best stories possible from his memory to entertain Jisung.
Jisung laughs harder with every fun fact he shares, fingers digging into Chenle’s knee each time Chenle groans in embarrassment or laughs along. All the while, Chenle keeps his hand atop Jisung’s, occasionally daring to stroke the top of his hand with his thumb.
He’s beyond reluctant to get up from the table, but Renjun and Jisung are done eating, anyway, and he has to start closing the restaurant.
“Come say bye before you go,” he tells them, patting Jisung’s hand before he pulls away and stands. He squeezes Renjun’s shoulder affectionately on his way out of the dining room.
He isn’t sure what expression exactly is painted on his face, but it has all the employees breaking out into shit-eating grins when he enters the kitchen.
“How was your date, darling?” Jaemin asks.
“Man, I’m so glad to see you happy,” Mark says.
“Come on, guys,” Chenle mutters, embarrassed. “We have to start closing procedures.”
He helps the two start cleaning up their bars, keeping an eye out for Jisung and Renjun in the meantime. It takes longer for the two to appear than he expects, but eventually they do come out of the dining hall, standing by the take-out counter expectantly.
Chenle makes his way over to them, heart aching due to the fact that he’s about to say goodbye to Jisung again without knowing when he’ll see him next.
Renjun closes in on Chenle and smacks his ass hard. “Thanks for the amazing service!” he chirps.
“Renjun,” Chenle hisses. He’s quickly distracted from the pain and embarrassment, though, when Jisung shuffles forward from behind Renjun.
His cheeks are rosy red. “Chenle? I… um, have something for you,” he says. He extends his hand, and between his pointer finger and thumb is… a wad of paper?
“What’s this?” Chenle murmurs, carefully taking it from him. Jisung’s hand trembles when their fingers touch.
He lowers his voice, mumbling so quietly that Chenle can hardly make out his words. “Um, sorry that the pepperoni is blue. I didn’t have a red crayon.”
Chenle blinks. “What?”
Jisung doesn’t elaborate, though, only pats Chenle on the shoulder and dashes away to follow Renjun out of the restaurant.
“Come again!” Donghyuck calls to them.
Chenle has never felt so bewildered in his life. He stares at the wad of paper, which looks kind of like a regular-sized piece of paper that was folded up ten times. Is this supposed to be origami or something?
Frantic and confused, he starts to unfold the thing, eyebrows furrowed.
“Hey, Chenle,” Jeno says, appearing at Chenle’s side. “So I meant to bring the last couple to table five, but they—uh, are you okay?” He leans over and peers at the paper as Chenle unfolds it one, two, three, four, five times. “What is that?”
“I don’t fucking know!” Chenle whines. His eyes dart all over the wrinkled sheet of paper. “What the hell?”
It’s a…
It’s a kid’s coloring sheet. One of the ones that Jeno hands out to the toddlers with crayons for them to color in while they wait for their food. There’s a smiling pizza in the middle, poorly colored in.
“Did you happen to get that from, ah… Jisung?” Jeno asks.
“Yeah, and I have no idea why,” Chenle mutters.
Jeno hums. “I figured… He came up and asked me for a coloring sheet and a crayon pack not too long ago. I was kinda confused, but I’m not getting paid to judge people, y’know.”
Chenle sees someone out of the corner of his eye, distracting him from analyzing the piece of paper. Donghyuck has appeared, Jaemin by his side.
“What’s that?” Jaemin asks.
“I don’t…” Chenle looks back at the coloring page, squinting. Maybe Jisung just likes to color? But why didn’t he just say so? Why was he so timid, and why did he fold the thing up so many times that it nearly got wrinkled to death?
Suddenly, Mark appears, too. “Hey, what’s everyone looking at?”
Everyone starts murmuring confusedly in unison as they eye the coloring sheet, and Chenle is so thrown off, still, he doesn’t even have it in himself to shoo them away.
“Jisung gave this to me, and… I don’t know why,” he explains. “He seemed so nervous about it, too.”
“It’s, uh…” Mark mumbles. “I mean, it’s cute!”
“Why is the pepperoni blue?” Jaemin questions. “And why can’t he color inside the lines?”
“Wait.” Donghyuck begins to cackle, suddenly. “The crust!”
Mark frowns. “Lay off him, man. I think the crust is colored pretty nicely.”
“No, dumbass,” Donghyuck huffs. He starts to laugh harder.
“Oh,” Jeno says. “Oh.”
“Huh?” Mark mumbles.
Chenle’s eyes shift to the crust. He squints hard, and… Oh.
Oh.
It’s so tiny he almost misses it.
Numbers. There are numbers scrawled across the yellow crust, in orange crayon. Chenle figured it was fucking flakes of cheese or something.
It’s not fucking cheese. It’s a number.
It's Jisung’s number.
“Holy shit,” he breathes.
“Holy shit,” everyone echoes.
Renjun answers the phone with an exaggerated yawn. “Hello, Chenle.”
“What do I do, Renjun?” Chenle asks, frantic. “He gave me his number, but… What do I even say?”
“Not even a ‘hi, how are you’?” Renjun mutters. “Or a ‘thanks for bringing the boy of my dreams to my restaurant after our shifts today’?”
“Right,” Chenle says. “Hi, Renjun. Thank you. For bringing him.”
“Damn,” Renjun mumbles. “He has you so incredibly fucked up, I don’t even know what to say right now.”
“You have to help me,” Chenle pleads. “You work with him. You know his texting style.”
“He never answers my texts,” Renjun replies. “Actually, it’s kind of annoying.”
“Fuck,” Chenle hisses. “What do I do? I need to say something. Today was…”
“…disgustingly cute. Holding hands under the table and all.”
Chenle’s face heats up. “You saw?”
“Chenle, I have eyes.” Chenle can perfectly visualize Renjun’s exasperated glare. “I just can’t believe you thought we were on a date at first.”
“I didn’t know it was you,” Chenle groans. “All I was told is that he came in holding hands with someone…” He trails off and laughs, confused. “Wait, why were you even holding his hand?”
Renjun scoffs. “Poor thing was shaking like a leaf, Chenle! He was so nervous to see you again, I practically had to drag him through the door. And it was his idea to go!”
Chenle’s heart throbs at the information. “Are you sure it isn’t you that scared him?” he teases.
“I’ll have you know I’m plenty nice to him these days.”
“I found him pacing out in the rain the other day because he was too scared to tell you he missed his bus,” Chenle snaps. “Whatever, just… Tell me what to say to him, please.”
“He wants to hear from you, Chenle. You. Not his boss.”
Chenle sighs.
“If that’s all you wanted to talk about, I’m going to bed,” Renjun says with another yawn. “Night, babydoll.”
Chenle sighs again, too tired to argue. Renjun is probably right, anyway. Unfortunately.
Once the line goes dead, he pulls up the contact for Jisung he made in his phone. He has to text him something. Find him a reason to come back to the restaurant—a reason other than Chenle’s buttered noodles.
Aha!
Without another thought, Chenle starts typing out a message.
You
How are the buttered noodles? >‿<
He cringes immediately. It’s almost midnight. Jisung is probably not even awake, never mind eating his leftover buttered noodles.
Chenle is just about to get in bed and bury his face in his pillow in shame when his phone buzzes.
Jisung
Chenle?
Chenle freezes up. He was not expecting such a quick response. Shit, now he has to think of another witty thing to say.
“Think, Chenle, think,” he mutters to himself.
Before he can come up with anything, though, his phone buzzes again.
It’s a call.
Jisung is calling him.
“Wha—?” Chenle whispers. Why on earth is Jisung calling him? His heart rate starts to increase, his muscles tensing with worry.
Is Jisung in trouble?
He rushes to answer, continuing to pace around his apartment.
“Uh… Hello?” he breathes.
“So it is you,” comes Jisung’s voice softly through the speaker. “Chenle.”
“Hi, Jisung.” Chenle swallows, mouth dry. His heart pounds. “Everything okay?”
“Oh! Yeah, I just… I actually don’t like texting, really. Heh.”
Chenle can’t help but smile. Jisung is so fascinating to him. What kind of college student doesn’t like texting?
“Why are you up so late?” Jisung continues after a few moments of silence.
“Oh, I was, uh…” Chenle made it home from the restaurant around ten, showered, had a late-night snack, and then… spent the remainder of the time between then and now freaking out over Jisung. “Nothing, really. Why are you up?”
“I had homework due at midnight,” Jisung sighs. “And I accidentally started baking cookies.”
Chenle’s face scrunches up in confusion. How does someone accidentally start baking cookies?
“I also just finished a bowl of your buttered noodles,” Jisung goes on. “How’d you know? Kinda creepy, Chenle.” His voice is lighthearted, teasing.
Chenle laughs softly. “Lucky guess. I promise,” he says. “I won’t judge you for procrastinating homework, but… Why are you baking so late?”
“As a treat,” Jisung explains. Chenle withholds a giggle. “When I was younger, I used to dance in between assignments to reward myself, but, ah… ”
Chenle’s smile falls. He sprained his leg in high school once and couldn’t play basketball for months, so he understands the pain of having a hobby torn away due to injury. That’s when he stumbled upon cooking videos and started reading cookbooks.
“I see,” he says gently. “Baking is fun, though.”
“Yeah!” Jisung doesn’t sound too upset despite the sad backstory. “My mom threatened to take away my manga if I didn’t join a school activity, so I joined the baking club after I quit dance. I’m actually not too bad at it, now.”
“Huh,” Chenle hums. He adds, with a laugh, “I don’t make desserts often… I do eat them though.”
“No wonder you’re so sweet,” Jisung says quietly, like he’s talking to himself. Chenle’s eyes widen, his face heating up, but Jisung keeps talking before he can really even react. “What do you like?”
Chenle’s face warms even more. “…What?”
“What kind of desserts do you like to eat?”
“Oh.” Chenle laughs. “Anything, really, but… My favorite is cheesecake.”
“Mine, too!” Jisung chirps.
Chenle finds it incredibly endearing that Jisung has so much energy at this time. He, on the other hand, is starting to fade into exhaustion, Jisung’s gentle voice too calming to keep him alert. Still, he entertains Jisung with a round of Q&A, eager to learn more about him.
“I think it’s cool that you and Renjun are so close,” Jisung says at one point. “I had a roommate years ago, but, um… he ended up hating my guts after… a while. I’ve always been terrible at getting people to like me. At work and school.”
“You got me to like you,” Chenle says without thinking, then tenses up, embarrassed. “R-Renjun, likes you too. He just doesn’t show it upfront. And my employees all think you’re adorable.”
“…Really? They do?” Jisung sounds like he’s smiling shyly. “I’ve never been called adorable before.”
“Well, you are,” Chenle says. He swallows hard. “You’re really… You’re really cute, Jisung.”
“Thanks,” Jisung whispers faintly. “But I wish I was naturally likeable like you.”
Chenle barks out a laugh. “Jisung, I think you’re the only one who finds me naturally likeable.” He pauses. “I’m not—I’m not normally like this. You know, all sweet, or whatever, and…”
“No?” Jisung hums. “But you’re like that with me.”
“Yeah,” Chenle mumbles. “I… Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Am I special?” Jisung’s voice is laced with amusement, but Chenle’s heart stops anyway.
He inhales and exhales slowly. Just as he opens his mouth to answer, though—
“Oh, right, my cookies!”
Chenle bites his tongue, listening to Jisung shuffle around frantically. It’s kind of endearing, but he understands the feeling of panic in the kitchen. “Don’t let them burn,” he teases.
“I’ll try not to,” Jisung sighs. “I have to get off my phone for a little bit, but…” He mumbles something under his breath. “Ah, it’s pretty late, too.”
“Yeah.” Chenle stifles a yawn. “Past my bedtime.”
“Oh no,” Jisung whines. “I kept you up?”
“No!” Chenle lies. “No, you didn’t. I’m glad you called.”
“I’m glad I called, too.” Chenle can picture Jisung’s smile. “Um, do you work tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is my day off,” Chenle tells him. “I work all of next week, though.”
“Cool! I mean… Cool about tomorrow.” Jisung is quiet for a few seconds. “Can, um… Would it be okay if I called you again? I—I have baking club in the morning, and then I’m visiting my grandma, but after that…”
“Yeah,” Chenle breathes. “Yeah, of course. Call me anytime, Jisung.”
“Okay,” Jisung murmurs. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Chenle echoes, unable to withhold a small smile. “Good night. Sleep tight.”
“Night, Chenle.”
Chenle lets out a deep, shaky sigh when Jisung hangs up. He was feeling tired before, but he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to sleep anytime soon.
Jisung’s words echo around his brain.
Am I special? he asked.
In the solitude of his apartment, Chenle scoffs to himself.
You have no idea.