If Kris had known beforehand that he would have been walking in that morning to the sound of a roaring chainsaw, he would have just thrown up his hands, said ‘ it’, and stayed at home.

It was clear that he would need much more than the triple shot venti americano in his hand to deal with this new ...situation... but it also seemed that it would be all the help he would be getting.

Despite the number of chefs and waiters as TableTops employed, suspiciously enough, no one seemed to be doing much work, all loitering around in the dining area with grim looks on their faces.

Even stony-faced Sehun, who really only ever had two facial expressions, looked a bit withdrawn, paler than usual in the relative shadow of to his stepbrother, two hands fisted in the elder’s shirt fabric.

BZZZZZZZZZZZT, the horrendous sound of something being torn in half.  

Sehun flinched, clenching Luhan’s shirt even tighter.

Luhan, in direct contrast, was as chipper as usual, humming lowly to himself as he went down the reservation list for the day, the sound of his voice just barely audible over the grinding metal.

Kris took a long and loud sip of his coffee, leaning his arm against the reservation podium.

“So,” He coughed, drumming his fingers on the wood.  “Mind uh - mind telling me what’s going on?”

With the strained and conditioned smile of a host plastered onto his face, Luhan glanced up briefly, jerking his head back toward the back lot, where the sound was loudest.

“Chef apparently just thought of some new dish to try.  Brought in some huge logs, tree branches and all.”

“I see.” Kris quipped, in complete monotone.

“And the - “ VRRRRRRRRRMMMMMmMmmmm “-th-” VRRRMVRRRRRRRRmmmmmmmmm. “- ...the chainsaw?”

Without bothering to look up from the papers in front of him, Luhan responded.

“You’ll have to ask Chanyeol.  Apparently he brought it in on the Tao’s request.”

Kris whipped his head around to face the line cook in question, catching huge eyes peering over at him from where the line cook’s disembodied head was perched curiously upon the cushioned back of the booth seat.  Upon catching Kris’ piercing stare however, Chanyeol’s face blanched, body squeaking noisily against the polished leather as he slowly sank out of sight.

“In all fairness,”  Luhan added, “It doesn’t seem like Tao told Chanyeol what he would be doing with it.”

Yeah, well this doesn’t really seem like something you should agree to without question, either.

‘Can I borrow your chainsaw for a while?’

‘Yeah sure okay!’ ...?!?

“Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say that I’m a little concerned about his safety.  You know, someone should really go check on him.”

Gripping his cup suddenly tighter in his hand, Kris could feel the weight of a dozen gazes locking onto him.  He felt his eyebrow twitch.

“...Any volunteers?”

Nobody else was moving.

He could see the writing on the wall here.

-

By the time he had kicked the back door open, he was already cursing under his breath about ‘reckless workplace behavior’, tracing the bone-rattling sound through the cracked open bottom half of the connected backyard garage.

Imaginary rain clouds drizzled misery over his head as he stared down at the horizontal slots of the aluminum garage door.

...let’s just get this over with quickly.

With a long sigh, he ducked underneath the door, barely missing the shower of wood chips that sprayed against the door just above his head, dusting his pristine suit and his perfectly swept hair with chips and splinters.

Working his tight jaw muscles in irritation, Kris slowly rolled his shoulders back, carefully spitting out wood chips and flicking pieces from his suit as he stood to his full height.

“...oi.“

The chef’s back remained turned toward him, blocking Kris from sight as the master sommelier took another step closer, clearing his throat loudly.

“Hey.  You.”

No response.

From this angle, to his complete lack of surprise, he could see that the punk was still puffing away on a cigarette, ashes falling carelessly onto his shirt as he moved, trying unsuccessfully to jerk the chainsaw from the ragged, rough stump of wood he had apparently been working at.

It took a couple more tries before the man finally perked his head up, turning back toward him with the chainsaw still swinging in motion.

Kris managed to pull out of its reach with a ‘woah!’, watching it slice through the air dangerously, the man holding it barely able to control its range of motion.

“Watch it!”  Kris yelled, quickly smoothing back his hair with his hands when he felt strands begin to fall forward.

Tao blinked in a slow, silly sort of way, taking a second to carefully flick the OFF switch before setting the chainsaw down beside him.  When he stood back up, it was with a mixed expression of embarrassment and surprise - it was the first time the two had spoken in days, and it had started with Tao almost slicing the other’s head off.

“Hey…”  The chef started sheepishly, automatically responding to Kris’ presence by pulling the cigarette from his mouth and stamping the flame out from beneath his boots.  “...sorry about that, the chainsaw’s louder than I expected, and this whole thing was… taking longer than expected.”

And then just like that, with the snap of a finger, all of his previous remorse was quickly forgotten as he returned to his regular energy level, the childlike wonder and excitement working its way back into the chef’s voice.

He turned back to his ‘project’, displaying it proudly to the none-too-impressed sommelier who was still trying in vain to pat wood pieces off of his suit vest.

“I had the greatest idea this morning - they were cutting down a tree in my complex, yeah?  And I thought - instead of watching all that beautiful wood go to waste - wouldn’t it be in’ awesome if I could maybe put it to use - take some cross sections of and use them as plates.  Talk about natural, functional decor - we could say that they’re “locally grown”, just like our produce - just imagine!”

So you decided to take a chainsaw to it without telling anyone you clearly have no idea how to use one?

Kris bit back the first remark that came naturally to him, biting his lip in the strained effort.  He looked down to see the other’s reddened and rough hands, used to working with a knife, but bruised and battered from an hour’s battle with an unwieldy and cumbersome chainsaw.

Tao was an idiot.  It was the only conclusion Kris could come to.

...and yet the other was so clearly breathless in his excitement, stumbling along his words with big and bright eyes that so reminded him of his own daughter’s.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Kris gave the situation some thought, weighing his options carefully.

Despite Kris’ general annoyance and indifference with the man and his great desire to just pat his hands off of the whole affair and walk away - it was clear that without his intervention, the other would more than likely end up hurting himself, if his own near decapitation had anything to say about it.

And besides, if anyone was more suited to the task, it would have been Kris, who had spent many long winters in his grandfather’s sugar cabin up north.

...alright, alright.  Kris rolled his eyes, heaving a sigh as he reluctantly peeled the suit jacket off his back, carefully folding it over the cleanest looking crate he could find before turning back to roll up his shirt sleeves.

Pushing Tao aside in the middle of his dazed and dreamy speech to pick up the chainsaw, he felt rather than saw the other’s intense gaze, focused keenly on his back.

“What are you…?”

Kris cut him off quickly with an annoyed growl, elbowing the man roughly to a safe distance before revving the chainsaw twice and feeling it roar to life beneath his hands.

“Something I might end up not doing, if you don’t hurry up and tell me what you want!”

-

“...damn, these look better than I imagined.  They’re going to make some rad plates.”

“...and what, may I ask, are you going to do with these?”

“The twigs?  I was thinking about sticking a couple into the food as a garnish, maybe set the leaves on fire for a nice smoky effect.”

“...wait - you’re going to do what?!”

“I think it’ll really tie the fall menu together.  I remember when I was a kid, jumping into piles of leaves and-”

“You’re missing the point - none of those leaves were on fire.”

“Ohhhh - right - that.  …Well, I mean, I just thought it would be kinda awesome to see it all blaze up, don’t you think?”

“...If the fire alarm goes off it’s not my problem.  ...you crazy pyromaniac.”

-

Beautifully golden chestnuts, roasting in the fire.

Parsnips and potatoes, peeled, chopped and steamed over a pot of pluming white smoke and heat.

Bacon sliced thick and dripping with fat, crisped in a pan until its smell had saturated the air.

Celery, shallots, garlic, thyme, sage.  A pinch of salt and pepper - and small cup of dried cranberries - and -

Maple syrup.  A long and slow drizzle, spread over the chestnuts, the cream, the pecans and the cornbread.

The turkey they rolled between two layers of plastic wrap, whipping it into shape with steady, warm hands.

And when it had been stuffed with the savory filling and browned golden on all sides, they were sliced open, hot, and steaming.

Heat-reddened fingers carefully placed them on the plate, nudging them into just the perfect arrangement among the crown of mashed potatoes and maple-candied chestnuts.

One last drizzle of decadant sauce for good measure - simple, beautiful, and -

Bold.  That broad shouldered back.  Muscles so thick that they were tensing when those strong arms lifted the heavy chainsaw from the log.  He turned to glance over his shoulder - an undeniably masculine profile.

The sauce dribbled off of the plate.

Setting the sauce bottle back down with shaky hands, the chef took a clean napkin, quickly wiping away at the excess, glancing up quickly - dazedly - from his work station when a certain man breezed by with a dark bottle of wine in his hand.

He had to remember to take a breath, and when he did, it was with pleasant confusion.

-

The owner had stopped by during the middle of lunch rush, spending the first few minutes at Tao’s side, watching the young chef place the finishing touches to his newest creation like an artist painting the last few on the canvas of a masterpiece.

Favoritism.  That’s what it was.  Kris had grumbled darkly to himself, stalking past them both.

Kris had, over the weeks, complained on numerous occasions to the owner about Tao’s behavior, but Mr. Choi had never done a thing about it except to look amused, laughing warmly at his head chef’s antics as if listening to the cute and bumbling follies of a chubby-cheeked baby.

And the worst part?  He was clearly on his own, fighting a losing battle.

When the shock had worn off and the staff had adapted to working with their new head chef, nobody had complained at all.  Between Sehun, who seemed a kindred spirit, and Luna, who so obviously admired the other chef’s skill, not even the delicate pantry chef Dasom was left unaffected.  For a quiet girl who usually had nothing else on her mind except for daydreaming with her head in her hands, she surprisingly always had a moment for the head chef, greeting him every morning with shy smiles and pink cheeks.

Even more irritating than everyone else’s easygoing attitude toward the chef was the very particular taste that he himself had acquired for the chef’s food.  Ever since the first day when his curiosity had won over his pride, when he had snuck a piece of it himself and experienced Tao’s food first hand - nothing else had ever seemed good enough.  Every dish seemed bland in comparison, and even his most prized wines tasted flat and sour without an accompanying dish graced with the chef’s magic touch.

Today’s turkey ballotine was amazing.  But then again, wasn’t it always?

That this kid, who had no idea the real difference between a food processor and a blender so long as it ‘did the job’, who had accidentally almost put something that had to be frozen into the oven, was genius enough to be able to infuse the entire human experience - into a single bite of food.

It was a taste of fall.  A Thanksgiving dinner, appetizer, entree and desert all in one.  A day spent at the crowded and full dining room table of his childhood home all over again.  After experiencing that, after having been forced to spend an hour or two in the other’s company, taking in the other’s overeager optimism and breathless joy, ...and Kris couldn’t even find it within him to be angry anymore.

He couldn’t really fault the other for being completely (stupidly!) earnest, transparent with his feelings to the point where he felt as if he had seen the other tear up nearly as often as he heard the other laugh.

Hating Tao was like hating a ing carebear.

More than anything, all it did was to make Kris’ head hurt trying to think about it.

-

(...the dish, by the way, was a complete success.  Influential foodies wrote glowing reviews on their WordPresses and their Tumblrs, and as a result, they were packed for days.  The boss had even demanded that Tao’s newest dish was to be taken off of the temporary exposition menu and adopted into the regular menu, which apparently meant more woodwork for Kris.  Personally, he thought he had cut more than enough sections the first time around - but Tao had insisted.  Insisted.  And then stayed to watch.  Every single time.)

-

Kiara had left a mitten in the back seat of the car.

Concerned father as he always had been, Kris used the first half of his lunch break to drop it off in person.

Eileen and Barb, the school’s two secretaries who were well into their eighties, were there to greet him as usual.  They cooed over him in a way that was far inappropriate for women their age, sneaking fleeting touches of his muscled biceps, teasing squeezes of his cheek (both kinds), before finally pointing him in the right direction.

Extricating himself from their grip, he stalked down the halls, trying his best to ignore the open stares as he passed by.  Kiara’s classroom was no different, full of gaping, fish-like expressions on every face.

He regretted it now, coming into the school while still dressed as he usually was for work - fitted suit, vest and tie.  But thank God for Lay.

His old friend, conveniently also Kiara’s primary teacher, snuck one look at his grim face and took pity on him.  Urging Kiara over to her father, he gave Kris a friendly smile and a wave before calling the attention of the other students back to the front of the class.

Kris breathed a sigh of relief, slowly sinking to a squat in order to greet his daughter.

Kiara was, b with excitement and energy to see her father so unexpectedly early in the day.  She kept it in well though, keeping a good posture and allowing her father to open up her tiny fingers and close them around the red mitten he placed inside of them.

“Next time, don’t forget your mittens, alright?”

“Daddy...”

“It’s getting colder out, and I wouldn’t want to see you catching a cold.”

“Daddy -”

“And be a good girl and listen to Lay for me, alright?  I know you think of him more like an uncle, but he’s still your teacher and I expect you to be on your best be-”

“Daddy,” She poked him in the forehead with a frown, shifting her gaze somewhere behind his head. “Ms. Hwang is looking at you funny.”

He turned slowly, in time to catch the intense gaze of the teacher who worked down the hall who was indeed making strange… faces at him, as if trying to look as seductive as she could while wiping the vomit off of the mouth of a babbling kindergartner.

Kris stopped for a moment to stare back, objectively noting the woman’s obvious beauty.

This - this must have been the kindergarten teacher Lay kept bringing up.  ...what was her name again?

On second thought - more important question - why, exactly, was she blatantly flirting with him right in front of his six year old kid?  She was eyeing him like a piece of meat, giving him teasing winks that forced him to suppress shivers.  Kris wasn’t sure at first whether he liked the attention or not, but when trailing eyes gave a pointed and long stare at his crotch, he quickly decided that he most definitely did not.

Time to go.

-

Tao was outside taking a smoking break, when Kris finally returned, still smoothing his suit from when it had been wrinkled in his attempt to escape from the clutches of one Ms. Hwang.

Glancing up while tugging his tie straight, Kris’ motions slowed, his fingers stalling halfway.

If not for the fact that in place of a well-fitted suit, the other man had on a chef’s uniform, Tao could have passed as a model straight from the cover of Esquire, cutting a cool figure with one leg propped against the wall behind him and hands tucked within his pants.

The wind shifted, catching the smoke from the lit tip of the cigarette that dangled from curved lips, bringing to him a whiff of Marlboro Red.  By now, he had come to associate that deep and lingering smell with the man who stood in front of him.

Kris found himself coughing in the smoke’s wake, drawing Tao’s attention to the noise and catching the other’s gaze.

They stared at each for a few moments of quiet uncertainty.

Perhaps comforted by the shaky truce that had formed between the two of them in the past few days, Tao broke the silence first by offering to Kris a small, hesitant smile.

“...hey.”

After a moment of hesitation, a hand waved him over, gesturing to a spot next to Tao by the grafittied red brick wall.

Kris wasn’t sure what pulled him to do so, but he found himself accepting the invitation and leaning up against the wall, turning away just slightly from the smoke to take in a breath of clear fresh air.

The other muttered an apology, but didn’t stop, instead turning his head away as well so that the wind would not blow smoke into Kris’ face.

“That’s a disgusting habit, you know.”

Tao took a long puff, following it up with a soft and trembling exhale.

“...yeah, whatever.  I know tons of other chefs who smoke.”

Kris snorted.

“Yes, but at least they don’t typically smoke inside as well, do they?  You know you’re going to get in trouble for that one day.”

A dismissive wave of the other’s hand drew lazy lines of white in the air.

Kris watched the smoke dissipate, wrapping his coat around him tighter as he shook his head.

“…it ruins your palate.”

Maybe the next dragging breath was purposefully long in order to spite him, coming out in unpredictable clouds of puffed air as the other wheezed out a slow chuckle.

“Buuuull.  I think it makes everything taste better.”

The chef his lips, holding the lit cigarette between two fingers before closing his eyes.

“It’s like… like a full-bodied, rich taste, you know?  Like one of your wines.  It feels good - like what it feels like to step into a steaming hot bath for the first time.  The prickling of your nerve-ends and all of your senses coming alive.  It’s like when you meet someone new, or when you see someone you haven’t seen in a long time.  It’s that click your brain makes when all of your synapses ing fire and you go - ‘Ah, so it’s this - it’s this that I’ve been looking for along’.  ...it’s the soft fingers of a woman, your cheek.  ...or a man.  You know.  If that’s what you prefer.”

The low, drowsy laughter was almost as it was teasing.  It was this guttural tone, and the other’s drawling words that had Kris feeling stung - baffled - at the way his own body immediately reacted, forced to turn away to hide his suddenly burning face.

…wait...what?

“Besides,” Tao continued softly, not noticing the other’s inner turmoil, “I didn’t know you cared.”

And there, offered up to him before Kris could even process the other’s words, was Tao’s cigarette.

He eyed the burning stick of white, taking it between numb fingers and peering down closely at it.

For some reason that Kris couldn’t explain, there was a swell of rolling emotion that briefly overcame him.  Fear, perhaps.  Disgust.  Or maybe neither of the two.

Barely visible imprints on the worn end of the cigarette.  Where Tao’s lips had been wrapped just seconds before.

His pupils dilated, and he swallowed thickly, letting the cigarette drop between his fingers only to be crushed under the heel of his dress shoe.

“I don’t.” He finally gritted out, voice perhaps a little less rough than he would have wanted.

“Some risks just aren’t worth it.”

The chef blew out a sigh, and Kris could see he was beginning to close off, finding more than a little disappointment in the other’s eyes.

Without anything else left to say, Kris stepped away from the wall to head through the back door, regretting already the moment he had just allowed to happen.

Before he could take two steps however, a hand on his wrist stopped him.  He looked over to see Tao gripping onto it, unable to properly meet his eye.

“Hey, about - about your wife.  I meant to tell you this earlier, but I’ve been distracted, and I - I just -”

Tao was sheepish but sincere.

“...look.  I’m sorry.”

He hadn’t been angry about it for days.

But he didn't tell Tao that.

-

What had started out as a day like any other had quickly its head when Baekhyun burst through the kitchen doors, slamming his tray down onto the countertop and spooking poor Minzy into nearly dropping an entire tray of braised chicken onto the floor.

“You guys’ll never guess what just happened!”

“What, other than some moron storming in here with a complete lack of regard for the fact that people are actually trying to get some work done here?”  Luna muttered under her breath as she passed by, heaving a heavy pot above their heads.

Baekhyun waited until she had passed by before making a face at her back, pulling off a flawlessly cheesy smile when the sous chef whipped back to face him with a look of suspicion.

“He’s telling the truth,” Nana told the rest of the kitchen staff as she breezed in through the doors, waving a ticket between her well manicured fingers. “The owner just came in - told us that we have a special booking tonight.  (...hey, where are the dishes for C5?)”

“Yeah, and how’s that any different from normal?  We’re the only five star restaurant in the tri-city area.  We probably get four of five ‘very important persons’ every night here, you know?” Chanyeol cut in, setting down plates and bowls onto the countertop.  “Aaaand here you go, beautiful.”

Typical flirt that he was, he gave what he thought was a sly wink to the tall waitress.  She rolled her eyes and curled her lip back in barely hidden disgust.

Baekhyun was quick to rejoin the conversation, helping Nana load the dishes onto her arms. “Yeah, that’s true.  But it’s not everyday that the boss lets a customer buy out the entire restaurant for a romantic evening for two, eh?”

It was like a record had just been scratched - everyone, regardless of what they had been doing, stopped and stared.

Even Kris, who had just walked in to fetch a bottle, leaned past the tall wine rack to peer over in surprise.

“Wait.  For real?”  Came Luna’s numb question.

“Yeah.  Apparently he’s a good friend of the owner.  And straight from the owner’s mouth, I leave you these four words - ‘don’t - - it - up’.  Alright - anyway - just-thought-we’d-give-you-a-heads-up - okbyeeee!” Baekhyun singsonged, holding the doors open wide enough for Nana as she walked through them with dishes carefully balanced on her arms.  Tossing over his shoulder one last saucy wink, the little troublemaker followed her out with a sashaying saunter, allowing the kitchen to settle with the news.

No one seemed to know how to react.  The owner was usually so laid back, so hands off with what they did in the kitchen, that for him to throw a curveball like this so late in the day - it wasn’t exactly a situation anyone had known to prepare for.

The food they had already bought at the market that morning, the ingredients that had already been prepared and laid out, the tried and true menu with the very same dishes day in and day out - all in anticipation of a large crowd, of a filled restaurant, not of an evening for two.

What were they supposed to do?

The door to the walk-in fridge squeaked loudly as the head chef stepped back through with a large pan of food in his hands, pausing in his tracks at the sight of a stupefied crowd.  Tao frowned, furrowing his eyebrows and whipping his head from one end of the kitchen to the other.

“What’s going on here?”

Of all those present, it was Kris who answered him, the least daunted in the face of their newest challenge with the years of steady experience he had behind him.

“Seems like we’ve got two very important guests tonight.  They’ve rented out the entire restaurant for tonight.”

Tao set the heavy pan down, throwing his hands up in confusion.  The sharp sound shocked the others from their dazed silence.

“And?  This isn’t an excuse for you guys to sit around, alright?  Who cares if they’re the owner’s friends or some drunk -up from the bar next door - we are going to serve them the same food in the same way we’ve always served everyone else, alright?  At the end of the day, what comes out is the same , you get me?”

Minzy jerked back, chin doubling and lips in in barely restrained laughter.  Somewhere behind her, someone mumbled ‘gross’ under their breath.  Completely nonplused, Tao used the back of his arm to wipe at his face, yawning loudly before clapping his hands together.

“Alright, let’s not just sit around - let’s make a damn good meal, as always, alright?”

As they all began to reorganize, shaking their heads and turning back to focus on their work, Kris leaned back against the shelf of spices and wines, observing the picked up state of the kitchen with begrudging admiration.

The bottle of wine in his hands dug into his hip and he looked down at it, feeling the weight of the red liquid shift from within the dark bottle.  

Schild Shiraz.  2011.  Dark chocolate and berry hints.  Dry, with a faint aftertaste of roasted nuts.

Intriguing.  Well-balanced.

He wasn’t sure if he was still talking about the wine or the stubborn man with the pale white hair whose back he stared at now.

Kris sighed, turning away to make a call to Lay.  It didn’t seem like he’d be making it back anytime soon tonight.

-

Seven past seven.  Kris pulled the cuff of his shirt back over his wrist, shaking his head at the kitchen staff who were all crowded around the port windows.  They were all waiting to spot the guests who were now - thirty-seven - minutes late.  Something was obviously wrong, but nobody knew what.

They didn’t have to wait long for their answer, as it was revealed but a few minutes later when in from the front doors, storming past Luhan who wasn’t able to get out more than a few aborted attempts at a greeting, was a hissing, arguing couple.

“I told you we should have left the house half an hour ago!  Now look, we’re late again because of you!”

“Because of me?  Do you have selective memory or something?  It’s not my fault that someone occupied the bathroom for two hours putting on makeup!”

“Ugh -” “-whatever!”

The woman had her arms folded in front of her defensively, everything about her body language screaming discomfort, anger and irritation.  She kept three paces beyond her companion’s reach, walking impressively fast and steady in her sky high heels toward the table that had been set up for the two of them, dropping into the seat hard and heavy with an eye roll dripping with disdain.

The man followed behind at a slightly slower but no less agitated pace, the very picture of haggard frustration in his fitted but wrinkled suit.  The frumpled collar of his shirt remained half-popped, and pieces of hair remained stuck up at the edges from where he had run his hands through in nervous anger too many times.  With a sigh, he slowly pulled out his own seat, sinking into it at an angle that shifted him away from both the table and the woman.

Neither met the other’s eye, and Kris found himself trapped between the two of them, unable to do a thing about the tense situation.

All he could do was to stick to his lines, the precise clockwise walk around the table in which he carefully chose and placed pristine crystal wine glasses beside each of their plates, shifting them to just the proper position while sneaking glances at each of his patron’s closed off expressions, the determined way they seemed to ignore each other’s presence.

Standing back up, he smoothed the clean white towel over his arm, clearing his throat lightly until he felt their cool gazes on him.

“Some wine tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Lee?”

The hard lines of their frowning mouths were as sharp as the diamond cut of their matching rings.

-

Lee Seung-hyun, a successful businessman and long time friend of their owner who coincidentally shared his same first name.  He owned a collective investment portfolio company, and apparently, from just over the past decade, he had already managed to accrue a net worth of over 300 million dollars.

Ms. Lee had been successful in her own right, for she had been a Lee even before the marriage - Lee Sunmi, the one and only high profile heiress of the Lee & Lee pharmaceutical company.

Their recent marriage?  Obviously a marriage of convenience and mutual advantage.  Anyone who was anyone would have seen the news of the plummeting net value of the Lee & Lee company following several product recalls in 2009.  Where Sunmi gained a financial helping hand from one of the richest bachelors on the market, Seung-hyun gained all of the old name prestige that Sunmi’s family carried.

From the looks of it though, that was where all of the positive aspects of their relationship ended.

In fact, from the oh-so-subtle words of ever eloquent Nana - they both looked as if they were sitting next to bags of trash.

Sehun and Chanyeol bit back their laughter, their humor quickly dying under the collective glare of Luna and Kris.

“So what’re we going to do?” Fretted Dasom, wringing a napkin between her hands.

“I mean - they’ve hardly touched the food, right?  Neither of them look like they’re enjoying themselves, a-and if Mr. Choi hears that tonight has been a complete mess…”

Jongin rolled his eyes.

“Well then maybe he should have known better than to think sending these two for a ‘romantic night out’ was going to be enough couple therapy for their failing marriage.”

“Seared pork belly, turkey ballotine…  I don’t get it.”  Luna slapped their menu shut, pressing the back of it against her forehead.  “We’ve served them all of our best dishes, and they’ve had maybe only one or two bites of each with no comment.”

“...maybe we’re approaching this all wrong.”  From behind them all, Tao spoke up, gaze not quite focused on anything as he struggled to reach a conclusion within his own mind.

“Maybe - maybe the problem is that we’re trying to force onto them things that lack any sort of passion on our part.  How’re we supposed to instill in them any kind of love if we don’t have it ourselves for something we’ve been doing day in and day out?”

He snapped his fingers.

“For a couple that’s tried everything, what they need isn’t something fancy, something dressed up in a long name and a colorful sauce, what they need is something simple, something back-to-the-basics but at the same time engaging and heartfelt, something - something -”  Tao spun around, his eyes darting across the room as he began to whisper the names of ingredients under his breath.

“Sehun, Minzy - that fresh shipment of shrimp from this morning - I’ll need a pound of it on this counter peeled and with the heads removed.  Luna, if you could help Chanyeol with gutting and filleting a pound of salmon too, as quick as you can, that would be wonderful.  And Dasom - some fresh seaweed and wood ear in a bowl, please-and-thank-you!”

Between the snapped clockwork shouts of ‘yes, chef’ and ‘right away, chef’, Kris found his own arm being tugged, reacting with surprise.

“Me?  You want me to help?  I can’t cook -”

“I need you to be on board with me right now, okay?  Listen, there’s a dish that a friend’s mother used to make - it involved cooking simple seafood in a wooden bowl with hot stones - so what I’ll do is I’ll - I’ll cook the food in front of them, just like she used to.  But it’ll be hot, and the stones will be heavy, so I’ll need an extra hand to help me plate, to help with the presentation - can you do that for me?”

As usual, Tao’s mouth moved a mile a minute, but when the barrage of words had finally ended, Kris found himself blinking wide, staring at the other’s starry-eyed expression with incredulity.

“I - what - ?  No!  Ask Nana, or Baekhyun -”

“You’re the only one who I know is capable and strong enough to help, so - so please.”

Just like the cigarettes Tao carried in his back pocket, his pleading voice was a low and sultry smoke.  And though hidden behind a foul mouth and tattooed skin, there was something so compelling in the other’s bright eyes that Kris couldn’t help but find himself obeying, already rolling up his sleeves before he had even realized it.

-

It was as if he were taking his wine service practical again, feeling after so many years that discomforting pressure that lodged like a ball in his throat, the scrutiny that made him feel like a clown in his well fitted shoes.

But it wasn’t so much his own performance that worried him as much as it was Tao’s, who fumbled through his bowing introduction to the disgruntled looking couple with barely any finesse.  And that was the problem here, really.  Unlike Kris and the other members of the wait staff who were used to dealing with unpredictable situations and difficult customers, Tao was so used to working in his own domain that Kris didn’t know how the other man would cope.  Tao’s tattoos and dyed white hair pulled such a disdainful gaze from the couple dressed head to toe in in-season Versace and YSL that Kris could feel nothing but second hand embarrassment, bracing himself for what he feared would be an inevitably disastrous end to the evening.

...but perhaps not.

It was awkward - at least for the first half hour - when Tao had almost dropped his knife, nearly flipping one of the heated stones onto the woman’s lap had Kris not quickly grabbed hold of it with a pair of tongs.  To make up for it though, Tao talked.  About everything and nothing, from his woes to his triumphs, the way the man’s suit fit him well or how the woman’s earrings complimented the color of her eyes.  And though they steadily paid more and more attention as time went by, it wasn’t just to the couple that he spoke.

“I’ve always found wood ear pairs well with seafood and a little wakame seaweed.  But don’t take it from me - take it from someone whose job it is to match complex flavor profiles.  What do you think, Kris?”

They would lean in, expecting an answer.

And as he spoke, the water would boil, the shrimp would begin to sizzle and pop.  Tao would lean in for a second or two, cracking salt and pepper over it like a cauldron of witches’ brew.

Into a single bowl with two spoons he scooped a seafood broth, a product of love and dedication which he had made before their very eyes.  It was warm and steaming between his fingers as he reached out to set it down in front of the couple.

At the last moment, his fingers slipped on the condensation.

They all took in a quick breath.

Without even thinking, Kris reached out, catching the bowl before it could splatter across the table.  He could feel a few drips of hot liquid ooze in between his long fingers.

They were all suddenly quiet - and from here, Kris could feel just how close the chef was, the way his shoulder pressed into Kris’ chest.  Kris’ fingers were splayed just slightly over Tao’s own, and he was aware of how warm the other’s hand was.  Kris couldn’t help but to focus on the single bead of water that dripped down from the curve of a thin wrist.

“T-thanks…”

With a curt nod, Kris jerked away, as if burned by the other’s touch.  Not unaffected either, Tao stood there for a moment longer, holding the bowl in his hands without seeming to notice its heat.

-

Kris only regretted not being able to taste it.

There was a feeling - something akin to jealousy - watching the couple share a meal crafted by the very chef whose food had so stolen his attention.

Not a part of him doubted its taste.

When it hit, as he knew it would, it hit subtly - a simple quickening of breath, a head that lifted slowly with eyes that shined just a bit brighter than before.

They met each other’s gaze now, and stared at each other as if - as if it was the first time that they had truly seen each other.

Their fingers, lying so close across the table from each other, twitched, as if aching to touch one another, and when he winked, she returned the gesture with a soft snort, the side of tipping up ever so slightly.

-

“Best meal we’ve had in ages -”

“- just extraordinary - absolutely wonderful.”

It was still early when they left with warm handshakes and a promise to be back for more, tucking their half-finished bottle of wine - to be finished at home by the fireside - between them.

And Tao -

Well, Tao stood by Kris’ side, waving dazedly beside Kris’ stiff 90 degree bow, holding the wad of crisp bills that they had pushed into his hands between his trembling and tired fingers.

When the doors had closed at last, the staff poured from the kitchens with shouts of praise and wonder, surrounding the two of them with congratulatory pats and head rubs.

A bottle of champagne, a cheap but still tasty cava that Kris had deigned an acceptable loss, was popped in celebration and at some point, Tao’s jukebox was brought out from the back, blaring some hip-poppy Wu-Tang Clan remix that nobody had heard of.  In between sips of bubbly, beautiful fizz and loud, relaxed conversation, they ended up staying in long past the end of their last shifts, taking their clean up duties leisurely slow.

What an end to a long day, made even sweeter when Minseok, their quiet pastry chef, sliced up the remaining pieces of the day’s leftover tiramisu cake, passing it out amongst the shining silver forks and clinking crystal glasses.

By the bar, Dasom sat with Jongin, nearly spilling her drink in laughter at some funny tale the other spun for her.  Closeby, Minseok had made sure to save an extra slice of cake as he always did for Luhan, somehow blissfully ignorant of the way Sehun bristled at the sight, wedging his way in between them with a hand around his stepbrother’s shoulder.

On the other side of the room, Chanyeol was once again causing a ruckus, slurring something about his conquests over the years and being a generally terrible wingman for Baekhyun who was clearly trying his best to chat up an uninterested Nana.

The waitress made numerous attempts to leave, finally ducking under the two friends’ arms to cling desperately to Luna.  The sous chef hardly paid her any mind though, too busy trying her best to dissuade Minzy from taking any more sips of the glass she had in her hand.

Doesn’t anybody remember the fact that she’s underage?

She whined to a room full of pleasantly tipsy cooks and waiters who really could have cared less.

And past the gleaming whites of wide and genuine smiles, the smoky mixed blend of laughing voices and hip-hop music, Tao and Kris sat in a private booth some ways away, sitting in a comfortable, companionable silence.

From his pocket, the chef eventually reached in, pulling half of his prized tip and sliding it over the table between his two fingers.

Looking down, Kris thought briefly about declining, but after another moment of hard consideration, he reached out instead, taking the bill with a lingering touch to the other’s still warm and slim hand.

He pocketed the money, making a hazy mental note to buy Kiara something nice with the money before picking up his glass and raising it to the man who sat across from him, silently congratulating the chef on a job well done.

Tao smiled in a way that Kris hadn’t ever seen directed at him before, one that made him question whether or not the slight flush on his face was really due to the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

With a hint of something strangely soft and gentle behind those intense eyes, Tao leaned forward, the leather of the booth seat creaking beneath his shifting weight as he put both of his elbows on the table.

Maybe it was the alcohol dulling his senses, but whatever it was, when Tao opened his mouth to speak, Kris found himself completely caught without a single thought on his mind.

So they talked openly.

-

Considering their previously tense relationship, it was miracle enough that they had already been speaking casually for half an hour, if at all, when Tao suddenly cut himself off, biting on his lip and looking down into his lap.

“...Hey.  It’s still early yet, and I know for a fact you haven’t eaten.  I, uh.  I heard of this awesome new tapas bar downtown that just opened, and I was just wondering if - if you’d want to go check it out with me?”

With a blink, Kris set his glass down on the table, the smile that Tao had finally earned slowly sliding off of his face.

He wasn’t naive.  He learned enough from his own previous experiences to know that Tao… Tao was asking him out on a date.

Sure, Kris hadn’t been on one in ages, and Tao - young, talented and undeniably handsome in a scrappy way - was far from the worst candidate he could choose to end the dry spell, but…

Kris found his eyes flicking over the other’s young face, taking in the curled corners of his lips, the hint of a tribal tattoo he could see from beneath the ed collar of the other’s uniform.

In his mind, he constructed what he knew to be an image of himself - Tight and withdrawn.  With a stiff posture and a frown.  A stern man ...who did all he could to ensure the smile on the child’s face who he came home to every night.

The undeniable truth was that regardless of how inclined he might have felt at the moment to accept the other’s offer, he couldn’t.  They couldn’t have been any farther on the personality spectrum.  Tao was a shot of tequila, a cold water slap to the face.  Kris was a quiet night sipping wine by the fireplace.

Tao was the type who would to party, who would to laugh - and to live - and to love.

Kris -

Kris was a father.

It weighed heavily on his mind, so much so that rather than the yes that remained curled on the tip of his tongue, all he could say instead was -

“No.  No thank you.  I’m afraid I’ve got other plans tonight.”

He wasn’t sure if it disappointment in Tao’s eyes, or his own, reflected in the other’s gaze.

All he knew was that the air felt slightly colder when the other nodded, sliding out from the booth to rejoin the others.

He thumbed the half-empty glass of champagne within his hands.

-

“I heard you ran into Tiffany at school the other day.  She said that you seemed like you were in a hurry.”

“Yeah, well maybe I was.  You should have seen the look on her face.  I felt like I was being eaten alive.”

“What’s the problem with being stared at by an attractive young lady?”

“Don’t say ‘attractive young lady’, Lay.  You sound like an old woman.”

“You’re missing the problem at hand.”

“Because it’s not a problem, okay?  I’m fine on my own.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“...Lay.”

Even with the tone of his voice that usually was enough warning to drop the topic, for once, Lay didn’t let it go.  And though he muttered it under his breath, more to himself than to the man who he didn’t think would be paying attention, Kris heard it all the same.

“...are you really alright?  ...or are you just telling yourself you are, because you don’t think you deserve anything better?”

To this, Kris would have no response.