Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chef Kiyoomi Sakusa runs a tight ship. An air of calm confidence always followed the tall, broad-shouldered man no matter where he went, but in the kitchen of the 5-star Japanese restaurant Tengoku, he exemplified the pinnacle of professionalism. He was well-respected by his team of skilled line cooks. They knew that while he expected perfection, he knew the value of a good teaching moment. No matter where they fell short, as long as they were willing to learn and improve, he would mentor them until they met his high standard. It never took long. He was a fantastic teacher.

It wasn't only his staff that respected him. The industry knew his name. Spending time under Chef Sakusa's tutelage meant that even the odd exiting chef walked away with a new repertoire of recipes, techniques, and determination.

Tengoku would be lost, however, if not for its maître d'. Atsumu Miya, a vision in a sharp black suit, worked his way up the restaurant industry ladder. Starting with waiting tables, his charisma and charm quickly skyrocketed him to host. Host was promptly followed by supervisory and management roles until the opportunity to be maitre d' at this prestigious establishment fell into his lap. His bottle blond, styled hair and gorgeous smile were certainly a welcoming sight to patrons, but his people skills and ability to command held him at the top of his game. We could list all of Atsumu's talents, and he would want us to, but it would take too many pages.

There was only one thing that had eluded the staff of Tengoku so far - a coveted Zenith Star. The Zenith Star was the top culinary award in the country. As suggested by the name, it was given to only the highest quality restaurants serving food that pushed the boundaries of the industry and topped the competition. It was only a matter of time before they got there. Both Kiyoomi Sakusa and Atsumu Miya were sure of it.

This particular day was as busy as any other. The team was just finishing up cleaning the dining room and preparing food ahead of dinner service. Tengoku was a hot ticket and fully booked out several weeks in advance.

"Atsumu." Chef Kiyoomi called from the pass - where he issued orders to his brigade of cooks and expedited artfully arranged dishes to tables full of hungry customers.

"Chef?" Atsumu's head popped up from adjusting the last bundle of polished silverware at an 8-top.

"Open the dining room." Kiyoomi spoke quietly but firmly, with a sharp nod.

"Hai, Chef." He replied enthusiastically.

Without delay, Atsumu instructed his front-of-house team to change the music playing throughout the restaurant from their high energy pre-service playlist to the quiet ambient music that always accompanied a Tengoku experience. Once that last detail was covered, they opened the doors to the waiting guests that had already begun to line up outside. Atsumu positioned himself right in front of the door next to their hostess, Anita. He always made sure that his gorgeous smile was the first thing their early guests saw when they entered the dining room.

About halfway through service, Atsumu was regarding the dining room from the back, trying to spot any issues or unhappy faces. He looked back towards the staff only doorway to see Niko, their newest server, practically power walking in his direction.

"Atsumu, can I talk to you a second?" Niko asked calmly, but Atsumu noted the small twitch in his left eye.

"'Course, Niko."

Atsumu led Niko into the staff only area behind the service station where all the clean dishes and non-alcoholic beverages were kept. As soon as they were out of earshot, Niko dropped his calm facade and began to fidget.

"What's on yer mind?"

"The man at table six," Niko angled his head as if pointing to the table in question. "He says he hates the wine I brought him."

"Which is it?"

"Well, he asked for something sweet and red so I went with the new one we just got yesterday."

Atsumu looked towards the table thoughtfully.

"What's that he's eating? The fish?"

"Uhh, yeah. I think so."

"Well that's why he hates it." Atsumu chuckled. "That wine sucks fer fish."

Niko's eyes went wide. "I didn't know that!"

"S'okay, I'll handle it." Atsumu gave him a kind smile and moved towards the table, shoulders back and the air of management around him.

"'Scuse me, sir."

The man turned from his food when Atsumu approached their table. "Yes?"

"Sorry to interrupt yer dinner. Name's Atsumu, I'm the maitre d' here. I understand yer not a fan of the wine my waiter brought for ya."

Only Atsumu could somehow deliver news in a countryside accent and make it sound like a melody.

The man stared at Atsumu for a second, a bit shocked by his dashing suit and even better looks.

"Oh, uh… yeah. Yeah, it just doesn't… work." He swirled the wine in the glass, taking a sniff. "I don't know, I liked it at first but after a few sips it just has a weird flavor. Maybe it's off?"

Despite knowing that the strange flavor of the wine was due to its improper pairing with the food, Atsumu wasn't about to make a guest feel uneducated.

"I understand, sir, and I'm sorry to hear that. If yer open to it, I'd love to offer ya some sake that'll pair nicely with yer fish? On the house, o'course."

The man leaned back in his chair, giving his family a look of victory. "Now that sounds nice."

"Wonderful. I'll be right back with a couple options."

Atsumu flashed his white smile and glided back towards the bar, stopping along the way to let Niko know that all was well at his table.

That night after closing, as the staff cleaned the restaurant, Atsumu told this story to Chef Kiyoomi.

"So you're telling me you got a chance to show off your sake skills, basically." Kiyoomi mumbled as he sanitized one of their huge cutting boards, cleaning alongside his staff.

Atsumu giggled, leaning on the counter nearby. "Yup! Eheheh!"

"Good for you, Atsumu." Kiyoomi gave him a small smile. "Good thing Niko neglected to think through the right dish with his wine?" He joked.

"Oh, I wouldn't say all that." Atsumu's gaze at the handsome chef was soft and tender. "But I will be walkin' him through the basics of pairin' his next shift."

"I know you will."

***

It was about an hour after the last dinner shift. Staff were almost done with their cleanup to close the restaurant. Niko came running up to another member of the waitstaff, Hiyori. His eyes were wide and he flapped his arms around like he was trying to fly. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh, Hiyori! I just saw Chef and Atsumu-san get in the same car! And they were holding HANDS!"

Hiyori raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Oh. Yeah. They're together."

"What?!"

"You didn't know that?"

"No!?"

"They're actually engaged." She turned back to the service station before her.

"Whaaat?!"

"It isn't that surprising, is it? They know each other inside and out."

"I just thought they were a great team."

Hiyori laughed heartily. "They definitely are that. Their story is pretty nuts."

"Really? Let me hear it."

*** A Couple of Years Ago ***

It was 3:05pm, and Atsumu Miya was running late.

"Dammit!"

Atsumu speed walked down the busy sidewalk, jogging across a street just as the crosswalk signal turned red.

"Shit, shit, shit."

He continued his mantra of expletives as he turned the various corners to get to his job. Atsumu worked as a shift supervisor at the acclaimed French fusion restaurant, Hue. His skills at organizing and motivating front of house staff had been cultivated over many years. He's been in the restaurant industry since his early teens, working his way up from busboy to server to, now, shift supervisor. And he was late.

Atsumu was great at his job, but he had the occasional absentminded moment, like forgetting he was supposed to come in early today to do the schedules. That was typically the General Manager's responsibility, but she had gotten too many requests for time off this week and someone was bound to be disappointed. She hated being the bad guy and had a habit of pushing that role to Atsumu, knowing he would somehow manage to deliver the news with a positive spin, leaving the employee feeling almost grateful that their request was denied. His people skills were akin to black magic.

"Almost theeere!" He flew around the last corner and finally saw the restaurant come into view.

"WAH!"

The local coffee shop's door swung open, nearly smacking Atsumu in the face. He avoided the door, but careened right into the person opening it. He suddenly found himself in a stranger's arms.

"O-oh, shit! I mean, I'm so sorry!" Atsumu sputtered.

He looked up at the stranger's face and went silent. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and had mid-length black curls. His eyes were dark and thoughtful, with a powerful brow and strong jawline. Above one eyebrow were two noticeable freckles. Their asymmetry somehow added to the man's attractive looks.

When Atsumu ran into him, the man reacted quickly, moving his newly acquired hot coffee out of the way to avoid spilling it and using his other arm to catch Atsumu. He had tugged the blonde into his chest to keep him from falling face-first into the ground, leaving them uncomfortably close. Atsumu could almost feel the man's breath on his forehead.

Atsumu quickly righted himself, pulling out of the man's bubble and brushing nonexistent dust off the man's shirt.

"I am so sorry, sir! C-can I buy ya a new coffee?"

"Um, it's fine," the man said, waving his unharmed cup in the air.

"Oh… oh, haha! Right." Atsumu's mind was only partially functioning, stunned by the hot guy he randomly fell into. "Thanks fer catchin me."

"You're okay?"

It didn't help Atsumu's wandering fantasies that the stranger's voice was so deep it reverberated straight down to Atsumu's groin.

"Yeah, I'm good. Dang, I gotta go. I'm so late!" Atsumu gathered himself and turned to jog towards the restaurant, turning back to yell one last, "Sorry again!"

Atsumu stumbled into the mostly empty restaurant, taking a moment to kick himself for not having time to flirt a bit more and get Hot Guy #1's number. They were only open for dinner and wouldn't start taking customers until 5pm. Inside he spotted Fuyumi, the General Manager, more commonly referred to as a GM, sitting at a booth on her laptop.

"Atsumu! …Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost."

"Uh, yeah. No ghost, more like an angel." He mumbled the last part.

"Hmm?"

"Nothin! Sorry I'm late!"

"No worries, I pulled up the last schedule and emailed you everyone's time off requests. I can't thank you enough for doing this!"

Atsumu was still catching his breath as he slipped into the seat across from her. "Anytime, girl!"

"I have to do some finances in the office, but let me know if you need anything." Fuyumi pushed the laptop across the table at him.

"Have fuuun," Atsumu jeered. She rolled her eyes and smiled. Neither of them enjoyed balancing the restaurant's books.

About an hour later, the schedules were done and Atsumu went to the restroom to change into his service uniform to begin his daily prep tasks before opening. Stepping out of the restroom, he walked to the storage room in the staff hallway to gather fresh silverware for the service station when he heard the back door to the kitchen area creak open.

The kitchen staff were already prepping for service, delicious smells filling the building. There wouldn't typically be a cook coming in this close to opening. He turned towards the door and almost dropped his bin of silverware. Taking the few steps from the back door to the kitchen proper, was the unbelievably attractive man he had fallen into in front of the coffee shop. He was slipping on a crisp white chef's coat.

The door to Fuyumu's office flew open, Atsumu tumbling in after it.

"Who? Who is that?" Atsumu was breathless.

"Hmm? Are you all right, Atsumu?'

He took a moment to breathe and asked again. "Curly haired guy in the kitchen - who is he?"

Fuyumi turned back to the papers on her desk. "Oh, you mean Sexy McFuckme."

Atsumu squirmed his nose up in confusion before Fuyumi continued.

"He's the new sous chef."

"Sous chef?! Damn. Never thought I'd see the day Lou gives up some control." He said, referring to their head chef.

"Haha, don't say that yet. We'll see if he can convince Louie to trust him. He was here all morning learning the recipes before taking his break. I'm guessing he just came back."

"Wow. I kinda… ran into him on my way in." Atsumu decided to omit the bit about literally running into the man. "Name? What's his name?"

"Ehm… Ki… Ki…" Fuyumi turned to a different stack of papers, scanning the one on top before reading the name aloud. "Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi Sakusa."

"Kiyoomi…" Atsumu liked the way the name felt on his tongue, lush and smooth. He wondered what the rest of him tasted like.

He turned his attention back to Fuyumi when he heard her chuckling.

"Got your eyes on the new guy, hmm?" She asked.

Atsumu smirked. "Maybe."

Chapter Text

After learning the name of the angel he met earlier that day, Atsumu jogged to the bathroom and fixed his hair. He gave himself a pair of finger guns and a wink in the mirror for one last confidence boost before marching to the kitchen.

Stepping through the kitchen door, he spotted his target instantly - the new sous chef. Kiyoomi Sakusa was cracking an impossible number of eggs into a bowl while the other staff whizzed around him prepping for service. Somehow, this man looked even more gorgeous in his chef's apron than in his street clothes. Atsumu didn't think it was possible. His unruly curls were tied back with a handkerchief to keep them out of his eyes and he was hyperfocused on the task in front of him.

"Heya, new guy!"

Kiyoomi whipped his head around. A look of recognition flashed over his face and he raised an eyebrow at Atsumu. "Would you look at that? A familiar face. You work here?"

"Ahaha, yeah…" Atsumu rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Guess I still owe ya that coffee, huh?"

Kiyoomi turned back to his bowl, shaking his head. "You never spilled it."

"Doesn't mean I shouldn't treat ya as an apology, though. I bumped into ya pretty hard."

He chuckled and it was the most tantalizing sound Atsumu had heard all day. "You did, but no harm done. I won't hold it against you."

"Phew! That's good to hear. And, uh, thanks fer catchin' me."

"Not like you gave me much choice, heh. It was just an automatic reaction."

"Ah. Good instincts, then." Atsumu looked at his feet, feeling lost for words. It was such a new feeling for him, losing complete function of his brain around a guy.

"I'm Kiyoomi."

"Huh?!" Atsumu was startled out of his thoughts.

"Kiyoomi Sakusa. My name."

Atsumu giggled, a little more high pitched than he'd planned. "Hiya! Name's Atsumu Miya."

Kiyoomi smiled while continuing to crack eggs. "Nice to meet you, Atsumu. Hope you don’t mind if I don’t shake your hand. I'm working on a pretty messy sauce here."

"Nah, I get it. I prefer my eggs scrambled anyway." Atsumu joked, getting his confidence back.

"Ordering breakfast already? Pretty bold." Kiyoomi raised his eyebrows and Atsumu felt his cheeks heat up a little.

"It'd go perfectly with that coffee I insist on owing ya." Atsumu cocked his head to one side with a flashy grin. This was going to be fun.

"What do you do here, Atsumu?"

"Oh. Right. I'm a shift supervisor."

"Front of house?"

"Yep. Unfortunately I don't get to work where the magic happens." He gestured widely around the kitchen.

"Magic? Most people would call it chaos."

"Ah. Well, I'd bet chaos looks good on ya." Atsumu winked.

Kiyoomi leaned in close, making Atsumu's stomach flip. He watched as Kiyoomi reached past him to grab some ingredients off of a shelf above him. When he pulled back with a smug grin, Atsumu's face flared red.

"Is complimenting me your way of angling for free food?" Kiyoomi asked as he started blending ingredients together.

Oh. This is going to be fun, Atsumu thought. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter, regaining his composure. "I'm not after food."

"Then what are you after, Atsumu?" Kiyoomi stopped what he was doing to give him a smile. Their eyes locked.

"Sakusa!"

Both men turned to see Louie, Hue's strong-willed Chef de Cuisine, or head chef, walk into the kitchen.

"Oui, Chef?" Kiyoomi turned to face him directly, his expression turned serious. As Hue was a French restaurant, it was traditional to respond to the chef in French.

"After that sauce, I need you to work on the Beef Bourguignon."

"Oui, Chef. This is just about done."

Louie stepped up to the bowl and grabbed a tasting spoon from his chef's jacket to dip into the sauce, taking a quick lick.

"Good." He gave Kiyoomi a pleased nod and turned to Atsumu. "Atsumu, Fuyumi needs you up front."

Atsumu glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Oh, shit! I gotta finish preppin' fer service! It was nice to meet ya!" He smiled at Kiyoomi before hastily leaving the kitchen, leaving the sous chef chuckling to himself.

Just as the restaurant was about to open, Atsumu and the bartender, Emma, were sent into the kitchen to collect oranges and mint for the bar. He spotted Kiyoomi standing at the pass, where the chef would typically expedite and shout out orders.

Pausing with his basket of oranges, Atsumu looked his way. "Hey, uhh, I wanted to ask ya somethin."

Kiyoomi nodded. "Go ahead."

Atsumu caught Emma's knowing smirk as she waited for him to finish.

"Why did Lou call ya Sakusa?"

"Oh, that's my last name."

"No, I mean, why not yer first name?"

"He asked what I preferred."

"Ya'd rather be called by yer last name?"

"I don't actually care much one way or the other. At the last restaurant I worked in, we all referred to each other by last name. I just got used to it, I guess."

"Hmm… okay, then. How about I call ya Omi?"

"Omi?"

"Yeah! Kiyoomi, Omi. Ya don't like yer first name and I'm sure as hell not callin ya by yer last name like yer some sorta professor."

"...Professor?"

"We're friends, Omi! So I'm gonna call ya by a nickname!"

"We just met."

"Yep. And now we're friends!" Atsumu somehow managed to make his smile even bigger with every word.

Kiyoomi chuckled low in his throat. "Omi, huh? All right, Atsumu. Omi's not so bad."

"Ehehe! Yay!"

"Stop flirting, assholes!" Emma hollered, winking at Atsumu as she walked by with her bags of mint.

"Ugh! Emma, ya jerk!" Atsumu's cheeks pinked up and he turned to follow Emma out of the room, still grumbling after her. "What the fuck is wrong with ya?"

"This should be interesting." Kiyoomi smiled to himself before turning back to his work.

***

Kiyoomi spent the next few days getting fully into the swing of his new job. This particular day was very slow, so Louie sent some of the cooks home, leaving Kiyoomi and one additional cook working. Kiyoomi stood by one of the cold metal counters, row upon row of fluffy cream puffs set out in front of him. He was carefully taking one at a time and filling it with vanilla cream from a piping bag. He had five perfectly symmetrical rows of ten cream puffs each.

"Now the chocolate." He muttered to himself when he got through half of the cream puffs.

He went to the reach-in cooler at the edge of the kitchen and grabbed a piping bag he prepared earlier filled with chocolate cream.

"What?" He muttered when he went back to the desserts. Something was amiss. His perfect symmetry of cream puffs was off. He now had four rows of ten and one row of only nine.

"Mmm!"

Kiyoomi turned towards the moan he had just heard to see Atsumu standing there. Dollops of vanilla cream sat at the corners of his mouth.

"These are so good!"

Kiyoomi sighed. "That’s theft, you know."

Atsumu popped the last bite of cream puff into his mouth. "I prefer the term quality control," he said with his mouth full.

"Quality control implies you had permission to control the quality."

Atsumu burst out laughing. "I guess ya got me there!"

He let his laughter die down and noticed Kiyoomi looking around the room, as if trying to figure out what to do next.

"What're ya lookin fer?"

"I think I have some extra pate a choux around here." He began to dig in the reach-in.

"Pat-a-what?"

"The dough."

"Oh… oh no." Atsumu began to fret. "I didn't actually put ya in a bad spot, did I? Did ya need, like, exactly that many desserts?"

"Well, Louie wanted fifty. I now have forty-nine."

"Aw, shit, Omi! I'm sorry!"

"No, no, it's fine. I just have to start again, I guess."

Atsumu brought his hands up over his eyes, mortified. "Oh my gawd. I am so sorry!"

A second later, Kiyoomi pulled a tray out of the reach-in. It was lined with identical rows of already filled cream puffs. Atsumu peeked between his fingers.

"Wait, what? Where did those…?" Confusion fell over Atsumu's face.

Kiyoomi grinned. "Kidding. I made a bunch of these already. Those were extra."

Atsumu froze for a beat or two before his eyes went wide and the space between his brows wrinkled.

"OMI! Did ya just trick me?! I can't believe ya!"

Kiyoomi laughed. "I couldn't help it. You didn't even ask if you could have one. And the look on your face when you thought we were out, ahaha!"

"Omiii…" Atsumu covered his face again in embarrassment.

"Do you make a habit of walking into the kitchen and eating whatever you want?" Kiyoomi was still smiling, so it was obvious he was just poking fun.

"No…"

"Just for me then?"

"... Yeah."

"Ahaha!"

Atsumu groaned.

Kiyoomi set the tray down while the last of his chuckles made their way out. "It's okay, it was worth it. You were so happy when you were stuffing your face."

Atsumu smirked. "Worth it to see me happy, huh?

The sous chef picked up another pastry from the tray, holding it up in front of Atsumu's face. "You can have another if you want."

Atsumu leaned forward, snatching the treat with his teeth. It seemed to surprise Kiyoomi, who pulled back, wide-eyed.

"I'll let ya off easy this time, Omi." He said after chewing the bite-sized pastry. "But don't expect me to roll over every time ya play games."

"I don't play games."

"We'll see about that. Mine are pretty fun."

With that, Atsumu took his leave. Kiyoomi, however, remained glued in place, trying to sort out the fluttering feeling in his chest.

*** The Following Week ***

The restaurant was busy tonight, but not slammed. Atsumu was doing his rounds, walking up and down the various dining areas to check the tables, making sure drinks were filled, food was served, and customers were smiling. His eyes landed on the family-size corner booth in the back. They had a party of five seated there at the moment - two adults and three children. They were just about ready for their check, having empty dessert plates in front of them. Most of them looked pleased, but Atsumu's gaze landed on the youngest child - a little girl of maybe five years old. She was hunched in her seat with her arms crossed, eyes red and tears falling down her cheeks. No one else at the table seemed to be paying attention to her, so he thought he would pop over and see if he could make this table a 100% win.

"Hi there dearie! What's wrong? You look sad." Atsumu kneeled next to the booth by the little girl, bringing himself down to her eye level.

The adults glanced over and smiled at him but otherwise seemed unbothered.

"My brothers…" the little girl spoke quietly, "they ate my cake." She sniffled and shot the evil eye at the two older boys next to her.

"Yer brothers ate yer cake?"

The little girl nodded and stuck her bottom lip out. A few fresh tears fell down her face. Atsumu frowned and looked up at the adults.

The woman, who he assumed was their mother, sighed and spoke up. "We ordered one slice of cake for the kids to share. We told them, you need to share equally. Amelia here was a bit too slow and the boys ate her portion."

"Oh no! That's not very fair, is it?" Atsumu didn't like seeing the little girl so sad just because of a missing dessert.

Atsumu knew that ultimately, this was not a big deal. The little girl would forget as soon as she left the restaurant, but it was also an opportunity to make a small happy memory for the little girl to take home with her. Atsumu loved making happy memories.

"I'll be right back with one more slice of cake, just for you. Is that okay, momma?" Atsumu turned to the mother to be sure it was okay to bring more dessert. The little girl looked expectantly at her mother, and sure enough, the woman nodded.

Atsumu straightened up and excused himself, hurrying towards the tiny kitchen service window.

In the kitchen, the chefs were focused on a large six-top. Three of the customers ordered steak, all at three different temperatures. As the sous chef, Kiyoomi was on the meat station for busy nights like tonight. It was bound to be the heaviest hit station and, while all the cooks were decent, Kiyoomi's meat temperatures were always precise. It was nice peace of mind for Louie.

"PSST!"

Kiyoomi froze at his station, perking up his ears.

"Psst!"

There it was again. The kitchen is always loud, filled with the sounds of food sizzling, pans clanking, and chefs calling out and repeating orders as part of their process. However, a hissing sound when the pressure cooker isn't in use is a cause for alarm. There could be a gas leak, a faucet left on, a fryer leaking oil, something might be burning - all things that were bad.

Kiyoomi started glancing around, trying to identify the source of the sound. He heard it again.

"Psst!"

Kiyoomi pinched his eyebrows together in annoyance. He let the pan in his hand go and hunched down to inspect the burners and knobs in front of him for the source of the hissing noise.

"Psst! Oi, dumbass!"

Kiyoomi finally turned towards the kitchen service window and saw Atsumu standing there, peeking around the side and with his facial features screwed up in frustration.

"Oh my gawd. It's me! It's me, ya butthead! I'm the one pssting at you!"

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and returned to his pan of steaks. He leaned his head toward Atsumu to let him know he was listening.

"What." Kiyoomi stated more than asked.

"Can I get another slice of chocolate cake?"

"Hmm? Get it yourself." Kiyoomi prayed he had misheard. There's no way someone would ask him for a slice of cake - a ready-made dessert - in the middle of trying to cook three different steaks to perfection.

"Ya know I can't!"

Kiyoomi didn't reply. Atsumu was right - the dining room staff are expressly told to stay out of the kitchen during service. They had service stations and everything they needed at hand. They weren't supposed to cross the dreaded 'Pass' - the table at which the head chef expedites, double checking dishes and marking tickets as done. Going behind the Pass was an accident waiting to happen for someone that didn't know how to handle themselves around hot stoves and scalding oil. Not to mention the cooks twirling between stations holding burning pans.

"Just a slice. Please, it's for a little girl. She's crying and I hate it! Doesn't even need garnish." Atsumu sounded like he was getting desperate.

"Tsk!" Kiyoomi didn't have time to listen to a sob story about a little girl, but he also wasn't a monster.

The sous chef watched his steaks for another second, until he was sure he could step away without ruining the meat. He jogged down the line to the dessert case, grabbing a plate and zipping around the other cooks along the way. He speedily plated a thick, luxurious slice of cake. Atsumu would be content with just the bare cake, but Kiyoomi Sakusa doesn't do anything halfway. He stopped to garnish the plate with powdered sugar, a chocolate drizzle, and a sprig of mint, as it calls for on the menu.

He jogged back and slid the plate across the window before turning back to his steaks, which were looking gorgeous and just about done.

"Thankya, thankya, thankya!" Atsumu chirped, grabbing the plate and running off.

Kiyoomi couldn't help but smile to himself. That blonde was something else. Not that he would say it out loud, but the fact that Atsumu went through the trouble to make a little girl stop crying was something Kiyoomi found absolutely endearing.

Back in the dining room, the little girl was happily chomping on a full slice of chocolate cake all to herself, while her brothers looked on in envy.

***

"Atsumuuuu, thank you so much for closing for me!" Emma waved from the front door, her purse slung over her shoulder.

"No problem, Em! Good luck on yer da-aate!" Atsumu replied in a singsong voice, topping it off with a wink.

Emma giggled in return as she turned to leave. It was closing time, but Hue's lead bartender - Emma - had a late-night blind date to go on. They had planned to see the midnight showing of a new movie. Atsumu, being a supportive shift supervisor, graciously offered to take on the end-of-shift bar cleaning for her.

About twenty minutes passed and the restaurant was empty save for a handful of closing staff. Atsumu was just about to burn the ice in the well, melting and draining it to clean it out for the next day's staff to refill.

"Ahem."

Atsumu looked up to see who was clearing their throat, and there stood Kiyoomi on the other side of the bar.

"Oh! Heya, Omi. Headin' out?" Atsumu flashed his brightest smile, trying to hide the fact that his heart was beating out of his chest.

"Uh, not yet. I'm shutting the kitchen down tonight."

"On yer own?"

"Yes?"

Atsumu raised his brows in surprise. "Wow."

Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow. "What? Why 'wow'?"

"Uhh… hehe, well… ya've only been here a couple weeks. Lou never trusts new guys to close alone."

"Oh. Well maybe he has a good reason for that. I have no clue where to find a broom. I actually came out here to ask you."

"Ahaha! Ya can't find it cuz I stole it!" Atsumu laughed as he leaned behind the bar to lift the broom he had set down there. "It's usually in the storage closet. I bet ya looked there first, huh?"

"Yeah." Kiyoomi's lip turned up in the smallest smile Atsumu had ever seen. "Is there only one?"

"Mm-hmm. Dumb shit. I was gonna buy one with my own money but… I dunno, it's the principle. I'm done with it, anyway. Here ya go!"

Atsumu lifted the broom over the bar to hand it off. As Kiyoomi grabbed the handle, Atsumu noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the tired lines at the corners.

"How, um, how have ya liked the job so far?"

Kiyoomi paused, debating whether he should be honest or cordial.

"Good."

"...Good?"

"Good… ish."

"Goodish?"

Kiyoomi nodded.

Atsumu chuckled, grabbing a rag to continue wiping the bar top. "Have a seat, Omi."

Kiyoomi raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Go on." Atsumu motioned to the closest bar stool.

Kiyoomi gave in and took a seat, setting the broom to lean against the next stool over. Atsumu leaned forward on his arms and looked straight into Kiyoomi's eyes. Kiyoomi felt pinned. There was something about those honey brown eyes that kept his rapt attention.

"Now, tell me how it's goin for real." Atsumu spoke quietly.

Kiyoomi paused to think, followed by a sigh. "Haa… it's good, really. I like it here so far. I'm learning a lot. But Louie is… He's, um…"

"Lou is Lou." Atsumu shrugged.

Kiyoomi glanced up. "Yeah. Yeah, he is."

A beat of silence passed between them.

"What's yer poison, Omi?"

"Hmm?"

"Whaddya drink?"

"Oh, I, uh. I shouldn't. We're still working."

"I gotcha." Atsumu tapped the counter twice firmly as if to make a point. He walked through the staff only door that had been propped open during closing. Making his way to the time clock, he tapped the screen a few times. "What's yer pin, Omi?"

"It's… 0320."

Atsumu tapped a few more times and walked calmly back to the bar.

"Problem solved. Yer off the clock. Let me make ya a drink."

Kiyoomi chuckled. "Heh, thanks. Whatever you like making."

Atsumu nodded sharply. He knew exactly what to make. Kiyoomi watched as Atsumu grabbed a glass, filled it with ice, expertly free-poured exact amounts of each ingredient, and slapped a metal shaking tin over it. He lifted it and shook the cocktail like a pro, grinning at Kiyoomi with his brightest customer-first smile.

Kiyoomi couldn't help but laugh. Atsumu gave off this unique, magnetic energy. He wasn't too bad to look at, either.

"Here ya go. Whiskey sour." Atsumu presented a beautiful cocktail in front of him, complete with garnish, crossing his arms when he pulled away. He knew exactly how good that cocktail would taste.

"Hmm. Thank you." Kiyoomi smiled, taking the glass and sipping it. He immediately went back in for a larger gulp. "It's good. Really good." He nodded as he spoke.

"I know." He flashed another confident grin. "All righty. What's up with you and Lou?"

Kiyoomi took another sip before speaking. "Everything's fine, as far as I know. He's just hard to read. I'm learning a lot. I feel like I'm doing well. I'm guessing he's happy with my performance, but I haven't actually heard anything from him. He only gives me instruction, no real feedback."

Atsumu nodded considerately as he listened. He waited until he was sure Kiyoomi was done speaking before he took a breath. "Listen here, Omi. I've known Lou a long time. He ain't shy about tellin ya off when ya screw up. But when ya do right, well, that's what he expects. So he doesn't say nothin."

"Yes, I can see that."

"That bein' the case, if he hasn't said anythin, then yer doin exactly what he wants."

"I suppose." He took another gulp and smacked his lips at the burst of fresh citrus.

"And I'll tell ya one more thing. Lou has never, and I mean NEVER, let anyone close up without him in their first month. He's too much of a control freak for that. He won't do it until he knows for certain ya won't miss anythin or screw things up for the next day's service. If he's lettin ya do it on week two, that's a huge vote of confidence."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Ya said it yerself - he's hard to read. Everyone says it. But for some reason, I see him and I see an open book. Far as I'm concerned, Lou's remarkably easy to read… if ya know what to look for."

"Hmm. Thank you, Atsumu. That's reassuring."

"He likes ya, Omi. I can tell."

Kiyoomi's smile waned and his eyes drifted to the glass in front of him. "And how about you?"

Atsumu's mouth dropped open and his cheeks took on a rosy tint. "Erm, ehehe! I, um, I like ya, too."

Kiyoomi's face went blank for a split second before he broke into a chuckle. "I meant Louie. How does Louie like you?"

Atsumu's eyes widened and he dropped the bottle of cleaner he had been holding. "Oh, shit!" He leaned down to pick the bottle back up. "Shit. Um, yeah. Yeah, Lou likes me. Damn, Omi. Ugh, how embarrassin!"

Kiyoomi snickered, knocking back the remainder of his drink. "It's okay. I like you, too."

With that, Kiyoomi dropped the glass onto the drink rail, lifted off his stool and grabbed the broom. "Thanks for the drink. It was delicious." He flashed a handsome smile with narrowed eyes at the blonde.

As he returned to his task of sweeping the kitchen, Atsumu was left frozen and dumb behind the bar. His heart was pounding but his brain had stalled.

"Fucker. Fuckin sexy fucker. Delicious, my ass."

Chapter Text

Tuesday is delivery day. It was still morning, but Louie and Sakusa were already in the restaurant clearing out the walk-in cooler to take stock and make room for the groceries that had just arrived. Two prep cooks stood in the kitchen, quietly chopping, dicing and mixing so that the line cooks coming in closer to dinner service would have all they needed for a speedy service.

Sakusa was still learning how Louie liked his walk-in organized and how much back-up inventory he preferred. He finished ticking off the last item on his inventory list, setting it down to put a box of apricots on a lower shelf.

"Those all look good?" Louie asked, walking by.

Sakusa straightened himself up with a groan. "Yep, we have about three pounds fresh of the apricots. It'll be enough to make sauce for the week. We have a few extra pounds of the rest of the fruit, though, along with half a box of leeks that we either need to use for a special today or toss."

Louie shook his head. "Not surprised. Our produce order came in wrong, but the supplier just told us to keep the extra. We used what we could. Go ahead and stack whatever we don't need after today by the back door."

"Okay?" Sakusa was unsure why Louie would have him move the ingredients out of the walk-in, but Louie had a habit of explaining himself only after a task was done.

A while later, Atsumu's head poked around the doorframe into the kitchen. "Hey Lou! Those boxes by the door for me?"

Louie briefly looked up from his checklists. "Yes. Oh, Sakusa, you go with him."

"Chef?" Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow. Louie has never given him direction to leave the restaurant before.

"Go with Atsumu. It's a lot of stock for one person to carry."

"Oh. Sure, of course."

He looked over and spotted Atsumu already standing at the exit with a wide grin. "Looks like it's you an' me, Omi."

Kiyoomi felt a warm blush crawl across his face. It was like this the first time they met, too. Atsumu did something to him that he didn't quite grasp.

The pair gathered up the boxes of fruit and vegetables and Kiyoomi followed Atsumu out to the employee parking lot. The muggy air carried the scent of impending rain.

"Sooo, can I ask where we're going?" Kiyoomi asked.

"You'll see." Atsumu winked.

Kiyoomi scoffed, trying his best to hide the burst of butterflies in his gut.

"Let's see, we can take my car but it's pretty messy. Should we take yers?"

"That might be a problem." Kiyoomi pointed over to the parking spaces along the side of the building, where a sleek black motorcycle stood.

Atsumu stopped mid-step. "You ride… a motorcycle?"

Kiyoomi nodded.

Atsumu spun on his heels. "Ya gotta be shittin me," he mumbled under his breath as he sped up his steps. Here was this extremely hot guy with a good career, cooking skills, AND he rides a motorcycle. It was annoying, completely unfair, and impossible to resist.

They settled the produce in the back of Atsumu's car after significant reorganizing of the random stuff packing the trunk. They hopped in with Atsumu in the driver's seat.

"So," Kiyoomi began as he buckled his seatbelt, "Can you tell me where we're going now?"

Atsumu grinned as he shifted the car into reverse. He turned to look at Kiyoomi, reaching a strong arm over and around the back of his headrest. Kiyoomi's heart fluttered for a brief moment before he realized Atsumu was only leaning back to see through the rear window as he pulled out of the parking space.

"We're goin' to the pantry."

"Food pantry?"

"Yep! When I started at Hue, I noticed they had a ton of food waste. At my last job, we had a partnership with the food pantry to take our leftovers, 'specially fruits and veg. I called them up and they were happy to take Hue's stuff, too. Ran it by our owner - Colette Dauphine? Ya've met her, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. She interviewed me along with Louie."

"Right, so she was cool with it, too. No harm done there, far as she's concerned. Now I don't feel so guilty when I hafta toss extra food, hehehe!"

"It was nice of you to get that all set up. We used to donate leftovers at most of my past jobs, too. I feel like restaurants should have some level of social responsibility."

"Same! Like, this ain't just a job. We're part of the community."

Droplets of rain started to patter lightly against the windshield.

"Good thing we didn't take my bike," Kiyoomi joked.

Atsumu laughed heartily. It was a beautiful sound. "Yeah, pfft! THAT'S why we didn't take it. Not cuz I'd hafta balance five crates of ingredients on my head."

"I'm sure you would've been just fine. You look like you have good balance, eh?" Kiyoomi glanced at him from the passenger seat.

"Are ya sayin' I have a big head?"

Realizing this was playful banter, Kiyoomi let his lips lift into a smirk. "If the crate fits."

Atsumu gasped, "Omi! How dare ya!"

"Kidding, kidding!" Kiyoomi couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull between them. Atsumu's personality was contagious.

A popular song came on Atsumu's playlist. The blonde reached out to turn the volume up and started singing loudly.

"C'mon, Omi! I know ya know the words."

"Not much of a singer…"

"I don't give a shit! Sing badly with me! Ya can't leave me hangin!"

Before he knew it, and not understanding how it happened, Kiyoomi was singing along. Certainly not as loudly as Atsumu, but he was there.

Within two more songs, they pulled into the pantry's parking lot. The building was more of a warehouse than anything else, with a large garage door marking the opening where deliveries were being brought in. The rain had picked up.

"Ready, set, go!" Atsumu chanted, opening the door and jumping out before Kiyoomi really knew what was happening. He followed suit, stepping into the drizzle.

They ran around the back of the car, pulling the trunk open and grabbing food. While Atsumu started grabbing a number of lighter individual items, Kiyoomi quickly stacked two huge crates and lifted them deftly into his arms, carrying them towards the open garage door.

"Well, damn," Atsumu said to himself, jogging to catch up. "Heya, ya think I can help or are ya just showing off to the parkin' lot?"

Kiyoomi laughed. "It depends. Does it look good?"

Atsumu cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, yeah. The parkin lot's very impressed."

Two quick trips was all it took to get the boxes from the trunk to the warehouse, followed by a quick check-in at the counter so the pantry knew which business to give a tax writeoff.

The rain was falling much harder now, warm and steamy. The two men ran back to the car, Atsumu stopping to slam the trunk shut before getting back in the driver's seat. They buckled in and, for some reason, paused to stare at each other while they caught their breath.

Atsumu couldn't help but giggle. "I haven't run in the rain like that in forever. It's like bein' a kid again."

"Well, I ride a motorcycle, so it's a lot more common for me, heh."

Atsumu turned the car on and started the return drive to the restaurant. "That was way more fun than doin' it alone. Ya should help me with this every week."

"It depends… Are you just looking for some muscle to carry the crates?"

"Absolutely. And maybe convince ya to flex once or twice. Strictly for charity, obviously."

"Obviously," Kiyoomi winked and Atsumu had to try very hard to pretend he didn't see it. Otherwise, he definitely would have driven off the road in a panic.

"I'll have ya know I'm a part-time connoisseur of men liftin heavy things in tight shirts."

Kiyoomi looked down at himself with a frown. "Is it too tight?"

"AHAHA!" Atsumu lost it, seeing the handsome man doubt himself over something so simple, especially considering how good he looked in that second skin he called a shirt. "No such thing as too tight, Omi!"

The air between them felt fizzy. Light and electric. They settled into comfortable conversation, mostly about music and fashion sense. When they got back to the restaurant, the two reluctantly split up into their respective areas.

***

"Omiii!"

The curly-haired sous chef turned towards the service window. It was Louie's day off, which left Kiyoomi in charge of the kitchen and expediting. It was quite the vote of confidence. Louie had never taken a day as far as anyone could remember. Poking his head into the small opening between the kitchen and server's station, was a fluffy blonde head. Atsumu.

Kiyoomi didn't bother replying, he just cast a quick glance to indicate he was listening. He watched as Atsumu slid a partially eaten Vadouvan Curry - their French-Indian fusion dish - in his direction.

'Fuck,' he thought. That was always a bad sign.

"What's wrong?" Kiyoomi asked, turning back to the line of tickets hanging in front of him.

"Said it's too spicy. Can ya refire on the mild side?"

"Yep," Kiyoomi replied. Then, in a much louder and deeper voice, he commanded the room. "I need one curry on the fly, heavy on cream!"

There was an instant chorus of "Oui, Chef!" from the team, followed by one line cook calling out the number of minutes he needed. Atsumu felt his nether region stir at Kiyoomi's authoritative voice. He allowed himself a quick 'mm' and pushed the thought from his mind. He was working, after all.

This wasn't the first time they had this particular dish sent back for the heat. After the second curry was received well, the team decided to adjust their recipe for a milder dish. Unfortunately, over the next couple of days they received a few comments that the adjusted curry was too mild, bordering on bland. Hue was always a locals-first restaurant, and they prized their repeat business. Adjusting and tweaking menu items to the neighborhood's taste was essential to their success.

When they got the third complaint about mild curry, it was Atsumu who had to deliver the news.

"Ugh, Louie's not gonna like this." Atsumu held a hand to his forehead and sighed.

"Sorry, Atsumu. The customer ate it, so I think they liked it okay… but they did say that they miss the old recipe." Sanaya, a part-time server, shared the latest comments from her table.

"Welp. Gotta do what ya gotta do." Atsumu mumbled, taking the mostly empty dish and walking it to the service window.

He scooted the dish across to the pass, getting an immediate scowl from Louie.

"Sorry, Lou. Customer liked it, but they did say they miss the spicier recipe."

Louie's demeanor visibly withered and he exhaled loudly, turning back to his row of tickets. "I'm taking it off the menu."

"No, no. It's not that serious." Atsumu waved a hand in the air.

He did not want to 86 a menu item in the middle of service. If they were taking something off the menu, it needed to actually come off of the printed menus. Otherwise, it's a guaranteed disappointment for their customers. On top of that, he knew several customers that specifically came in for that dish. It was hard to find anywhere else in the area.

"Let's give it the night at least, Lou. A lotta folks do enjoy it."

Louie rolled his eyes in irritation. "One more comment and it's off, got it?"

"Ya got it, Lou!" Atsumu replied cheerily. Overt joy was the only way to counteract Louie's dark disdain for life.

About forty-five minutes later, another ticket with Vadouvan Curry on it came across the pass. Louie reviewed the ticket, his eyes pausing when they reached one line.

"Atsumu!" Louie called through the service window.

"Yes?"

"What's this note on the curry?" He held the ticket up, pointing to a particular scribble.

"Oh, it says 'mild'. I'm havin the servers start askin for a heat level on the curry. Hope that's okay? Figured ya can adjust the cream to spice ratios er somethin."

"Oh." Louie stood there, eyes fixed on Atsumu's big smile. "Yes, we can make that work." The head chef nodded, suddenly invigorated by the simple solution. "It isn't typical in French cuisine to ask for a heat level, but it's a good idea nonetheless."

"May not be traditional, but we're French fusion, right?" Atsumu grinned.

"That we are." Louie rarely smiled, but the small nod he gave was just as good.

Kiyoomi overheard the exchange from his station. His team had been so engrossed in their work that they focused on the entirely wrong solution to the problem. Rather than adjusting the base recipe, they should have looked at how it was ordered. This had the added benefit of giving the customers the option to customize their meal.

It was clear that Louie, and Hue, needed Atsumu's alternate point of view. Both sides of the restaurant need each other, but they can also keep each other in check.

Kiyoomi looked over at Atsumu, noting his good looks and confident stance. Atsumu clearly knew what he had just done. With a single sentence, he had solidified his worth in the head chef's eyes, and now had more power and sway than anyone realized. The sous chef chuckled, causing Atsumu to look over. Rather than avert his eyes, though, he held Atsumu's gaze so the blonde could see his effect on him. Atsumu winked and Kiyoomi felt a stirring in his stomach… butterflies again.

***

"Atsumu! UGH!" Fuyumi called out as she struggled to drag the new hostess stand into place.

"Comin! Comin!" Atsumu jogged out from behind the bar to grab the other end of the stand.

"My goodness, this thing is so heavy with all those drawers! I moved the old one by myself, no problem, but this one? It's like it's made of lead." Fuyumi groaned.

"Are ya okay on that end?"

"Ouch! Tsk!" Fuyumi yelped and dropped her end of the hostess stand, the hardwood landing on the floor with a weighty thunk.

"What happened?"

She held her hand close to her face to inspect it. "Damn, I got a huge splinter in my palm from this stupid thing." She looked back up at Atsumu. "Ugh, we need someone else to help. Where are Sanaya and Carolyn?"

"Both wrappin' silverware and cleanin' menus."

"No one else?"

"Not up front, but there's folks clangin' around in the kitchen. Lemme see if they have a sec." Atsumu ran quickly back to the kitchen. The new hostess stand arrived much later than planned, and they only had a few minutes left before opening.

Meanwhile, Kiyoomi and the kitchen staff were busily preparing for service, meticulously chopping and dicing to fill in their mise en place - a row of containers in front of each cook that holds the small ingredients they would need at-hand throughout the day.

Atsumu confidently strode into the kitchen, walking straight up to Louie.

"Heya Lou? Ya got anyone with a sec to help me and Fuyumi move somethin heavy?"

Louie quickly glanced around the kitchen, seeing that Kiyoomi was the only chef far enough ahead to step away from his tasks. "Sakusa! Go with Atsumu and come straight back."

"Oui, Chef." Kiyoomi glanced up from his stack of clean pans for the first time that evening, having been engrossed in his prep.

He jogged towards Atsumu, trying to ignore the quick flash of heat that runs up his neck every time he hears Atsumu's name.

"What do you need?" Kiyoomi asked.

"Yer always the lucky guy, huh, Omi?"

"Looks like it."

"Come." He winked and crooked a finger beckoning the sous chef along.

Atsumu led him to the front, instructing Kiyoomi to grab the other end of the hostess stand and help him move it. Kiyoomi had rolled his sleeves up during kitchen prep due to the heat, and Atsumu couldn't help but be distracted by his flexing biceps. The way Kiyoomi always tugged his luxe curls back with a headband when working made the muscles in Atsumu's abdomen clench. It was a heated feeling and a terribly uncomfortable feeling all at once.

As they maneuvered the stand into place, Fuyumi ran back over. She was clearly flustered. "Atsumu! Did you do the shifts last night?"

Grunting with the effort of lifting, Atsumu replied, "Yep. Oof! That's done."

"Colette called and she wanted to know if you checked all the customer reviews for the week and responded to the online ones."

"Yep. That's done, too."

"Okay, great. And how about Toby's first month review?"

"Scheduled fer Tuesday. Ah!" Atsumu finally dropped his end of the stand into place.

Kiyoomi began to shuffle the stand slightly to make sure it was perfectly aligned to the front door. Being a perfectionist wasn't relegated solely to the kitchen. He tried to avoid watching the exchange between the duo, but it was impossible to ignore the lengthy list of tasks given to Atsumu.

After a few more notes, Fuyumi receded to the back office, leaving Atsumu to handle the incoming shift of servers.

Atsumu patted the dust from his hands and turned to Kiyoomi. "Thanks fer yer help, Omi! Ya can go back to yer work now, sorry to keep ya."

Kiyoomi began to turn but hesitated. "Atsumu, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm? Sure ya can! Ya don't gotta ask."

"Fuyumi, she… she gave you a lot to do just now, didn't she?"

"Ah, yeah. It's been a busy week."

"Maybe this isn't my place, or maybe I'm just used to things being done differently in my old jobs. But a lot of the things she asked you to do, aren't those tasks expected of the GM? Shouldn't she be doing them?"

"Ehm, well… yer not wrong there." Atsumu cracked his knuckles nervously. "But I don't mind! I like doin that kinda stuff. Good practice for when I become GM some day, ehehe!"

Kiyoomi nodded politely. "I get that. Don't let anyone take advantage of you, though. You're great at your job, but that doesn't mean you have to do anyone else's on top of that."

Atsumu grinned widely. "Aww, Omi! Ya care about me or somethin?"

Kiyoomi scoffed and shook his head, turning on his heel to walk away. He paused after a step, though, and replied, "Maybe."

Atsumu felt his cheeks burn up as he watched Kiyoomi walk away, his eyes lingering a bit too long on how well the chef's fitted pants suited him. As soon as Kiyoomi was out of earshot, he mumbled to himself, "Hate to see ya leave, but love to watch ya go. Tsk, tsk, tsk." He clicked his tongue and sighed before going about his day.

***

"Slow day, huh, Lou?" Atsumu strolled into the kitchen. Looking up at the expediting table, he noted the absence of any tickets. It meant there were literally zero orders waiting to be cooked.

The grizzled older man turned to address Atsumu dryly. "Is it? I hadn't noticed."

The two men were polar opposites - one bubbly, energetic personality face to face with a meticulous and surly one.

"Ehehe! Yer a hoot, Lou. How's everyone doin' back here?"

"Bored!" Kishaun - one of the line cooks - yelled, triggering a handful of chuckles from the other cooks.

"You're bored, are you?" Kiyoomi turned to Kishaun with a devilish smile. Atsumu leaned his elbows on the table with his chin resting on his fists, watching the show unfold.

Kishaun's countenance dropped immediately. "N-no, Chef."

"Are you certain? I have quite a lot of cleaning for you to do, if you are."

"Not bored, Chef. I was about to, um, refill the mise en place."

Kiyoomi snorted from his place at the garnish station.

"What is funny, Sakusa?" Louie's eyes gave away his mirth at watching his sous chef command respect as a leader over the brigade.

Kiyoomi shrugged and lazily gestured in Kishaun's direction. "We've barely had any orders. The mise en place is full."

The full exchange set off a loud belly laugh from Atsumu.

Just then, their youngest server, Toby, popped his head in through the service window. "Mr. Atsumu?"

Still giggling, Atsumu turned to him. "Toby, how many times do I gotta tell ya? Just call me Atsumu. The Mister ain't necessary."

"Oh, I could never." Toby shook his head sincerely. "But, Mr. Atsumu… Sake pairing."

Atsumu's face froze mid-laugh and he stared at Toby. "Ye-... Yer serious?"

Kiyoomi's ears perked up, listening to the exchange.

"Uhh, yes? Table twelve." Toby turned to Louie. "And here's table nine's order, Chef Louie."

"Hell yes!" Atsumu quickly stood up straight, adjusted his collar, and swept his hair back as if it weren't already perfectly coiffed.

Louie glanced at the ticket Toby handed him and pinned it up to the ticket rail hanging at eye level. "Order in!" He called to his cooks, "Two chicken, two halibut, one cassoulet."

"Oui, Chef!" They called out.

Atsumu ran out of the kitchen, leaving Kiyoomi confused. No one else in the kitchen seemed phased, so he decided to scoot a little closer to the service window while he worked. Peering into the dining room, he could see Atsumu at a particularly large table that seemed to be celebrating.

"How long on my garnish for two chicken?" Louie called out.

"Now, Chef!" Kiyoomi responded dutifully, running over to drop a tray of garnishes and sides on the pass for Louie to dress two plates with.

Kiyoomi took up his post again, no longer seeing Atsumu at the table. The sous chef couldn't resist keeping tabs through the window while another ticket came in and the kitchen grew to a lively buzz. A few minutes later, Atsumu reappeared holding a tray with three small bottles. He also had Sanaya at his side. Sanaya began settling pristine white sake cups in front of each customer as Atsumu seemed to make a speech about each bottle.

"Sakusa!"

Kiyoomi whipped his head around towards his head chef. "Oui, Chef?"

"Read the last order back to me."

"Two cassoulet, one curry, one strip, medium rare."

"Oh. You're paying attention after all. Good, then. Carry on."

Kiyoomi let out the breath he was holding. Thank goodness he was great at multitasking. He looked back through the service window, seeing that Atsumu and Sanaya were now pouring sake out of the chosen bottle into each guest's cup.

At the table, Atsumu was just finishing up his spiel about the bottles he had chosen for the customer's meals.

"Fer those of ya havin' the fish, I brought ya this Kikusui Junmai Ginjo from the Niigata prefecture." He held up a transparent blue bottle the color of the sky on a sunny day. "This sake is smooth and citrusy with notes of mandarin orange. Goes great with seafood!"

Atsumu settled the bottle down, picking up the other, taller bottle with an image of an olive branch on it.

One of the guests, a blonde woman, chimed in. "Is that a wine bottle?"

"It is not, but it sure does look like it, don't it?" Atsumu chuckled politely as he tilted the bottle in her direction to read the label. He leaned in close as if he was about to divulge a secret. "This is Kawatsuru Olive. It's a Ginjo sake made with yeast extracted from Sanuki olives native to Kagawa."

"They grow olive trees in Kagawa?" Another man asked.

"Apparently they do! Haha! It's got a little acidity like white wine, but it's richer and drinks chewy."

"Chewy!?" Several guests at the table were surprised.

"Yep, chewy when we're referrin' to sake just means it's got a thicker mouthfeel. Ya won't actually be chewin' this. Ahaha! Ya'll notice flavors like white grape, green apple and pear with a little salinity at the very end. Perfect for those of ya havin' the chicken. It pairs with almost any light dish, really."

The entire table nodded thoughtfully. They were engrossed by Atsumu's lesson in sake.

"And finally, this is the Kizakura Kyo No Tokuri Gold." Atsumu held up a short golden bottle. It was stout, wide at the top and tapered towards the bottom. Delicate gold flecks floated in the clear liquid inside. "This Junmai sake is from the Kyoto prefecture and features gold flakes floatin' in it." He paused for the inevitable oohs and aahs from the guests. "It's on the dry side and perfect fer special occasions. It'd be an excellent way to top off yer anniversary celebration tonight! I recommend ya finish yer meal with a sip of this 'round the table and a nice 'Kampai!'"

Atsumu flashed his bright, wide smile. A few of the guests couldn't help but giggle in return. He was unbelievably personable and friendly. Atsumu exuded joyful kinetic energy.

"All righty! I hope ya'll enjoy yer meal, please let Sanaya know if ya need anythin' else. Thank ya fer lettin' me assist in yer sake pairin' tonight."

He bowed with his hands folded in front of him. The group clapped, catching Atsumu completely off guard. He offered them one more exaggerated bow to get a few chuckles before taking his leave.

Kiyoomi was heads-down at his station when he heard the cheers. He quickly stepped to the service window just in time to see Atsumu bow and leave the table. Turning back to his kitchen, he once again noticed that no one else had reacted to the cheers. They were either buried in their stations or this wasn't the first time Atsumu held an entire presentation at a table. He wasn't able to hear anything Atsumu had said since the table was on the far side of the restaurant. It's something he would need to look into later.

That evening, after they had said goodnight to the last customer, Kiyoomi clocked out and gathered his coat and keys. Slipping his black leather coat on, he stepped into the main restaurant to see who was closing. There, he spotted the grizzled face of Hue's long term barback hunched over a booth. His name was Sebastian. His salt and pepper hair was trimmed neatly, but white stubble was always present on his face. Wrinkles framed his thin lips and blue eyes, but rather than aging him, they gave him a wise quality.

"Sebastian… do we do a sake pairing?" Kiyoomi asked, knowing that he never saw a sake pairing on the menus he meticulously studied.

"Oh! You startled me, Kiyoomi. Well, we don't advertise it, but we can do it on request ever since Atsumu started here."

"What does it have to do with Atsumu? I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

"Heh, he's an interesting character, isn't he?" Sebastian offered a knowing look and kind smile before continuing. "He's a… what do you call it? Err… like a wine expert or sommelier, but for sake. Kisa… Kika-something…" Sebastian said, trying to remember the proper terminology.

"A Kikisake-shi?" Kiyoomi suggested.

"Yes, that! A Kikisake-shi. What a mouthful. Apparently really good at it, too. He can do sake pairings and knows all about the different kinds - the cloudy ones, the dry ones, hot, cold, you name it!"

Kiyoomi had been wondering why the restaurant's owner seemed to rely so heavily on Atsumu Miya. The man was a shift supervisor, but he was treated more like the general manager and assigned the duties of both roles. Atsumu practically opened and closed the restaurant in terms of front-of-house. It wasn't standard.

In an attempt to get more familiar with the inner workings of the business, Kiyoomi had decided to ask the quiet barback in his early fifties a few more questions. He felt more comfortable steering clear of the gregarious or loud personalities. Sebastian shouldn't be underestimated, though. Despite keeping to himself, he was a legacy employee that had been at the restaurant for over 15 years, happy to hold out in his simple supportive role. Being a wallflower also meant he had an ear to the ground for all the gossip.

"So Miya's a sake expert, okay. Seems his list of responsibilities gets longer every time I ask. He works more like a manager than a supervisor, doesn't he?"

"First off, Atsumu would throw a shitfit if he heard you call him Miya. He hates that. And yes, Fuyumi is the manager but she is kind of…" Sebastian groaned as he dropped a rag and crouched to collect it. "How can I put it? Disconnected. She's good with the books, yeah? Getting the numbers right, checking off procedure lists, hiring and firing, that kind of thing. When it comes to the customers, though, she keeps her interaction to a minimum."

"Hmm. Can't say I disagree."

Sebastian thought for a moment before continuing. "And she's not exactly interested in mentoring the staff."

Kiyoomi nodded. "Sure. I guess a lot of them are young and here for a short time, but you still want them to learn and grow. Decide if this is something they want to do more of."

"Exactly. Atsumu sees that. My guess is that's why the owner trusts him so much. You need both skillsets in management. Plus, Atsumu has been working in restaurants a lot longer. He used to be the host at The Palms, I heard."

This made Kiyoomi's ears perk up. "Why go from The Palms to Hue? Isn't The Palms part of an expensive country club? I'm sure he was paid well there. It's almost a demotion."

Sebastian lifted the tub of dirty glassware he had been filling, carrying it towards the kitchen with Kiyoomi close on his heels. "Ahaha! Don't let Colette hear you say that, either! …Well, in his interview Atsumu told the owner that he didn't feel like he was going anywhere at The Palms. He wants to climb the ladder to be a GM and work at bigger, higher end restaurants. Maybe even be a maitre d' at a Zenith-quality joint eventually."

Sebastian chuckled and shook his head, recognizing that as a lofty and hard-to-reach goal. A Zenith Star was the highest honor a restaurant could be bestowed in the country, representing not only the best food, but also the best service and atmosphere. Zenith - the committee awarding the star - was exceptionally tightfisted with their selections. Even getting to a level where you could be considered for a star was an accomplishment in itself.

Suddenly, things began making more sense. Kiyoomi recalled all the times Atsumu came across as more dedicated, emotionally invested, and focused on perfection than the average shift supervisor. He wants more.

Another thought came to mind and Kiyoomi squinted his eyes suspiciously at the older man. "Sebastian, how do you know all this?"

Sebastian's lip curled in a half-smile. He leaned in close and whispered. "Don't tell anyone, but I like to listen in on the newbie's interviews. You can hear everything clear as day from the utility closet next to Fuyumi's office." He laughed loudly as he pulled back and returned to his tasks.

Chapter Text

"There is no possibility of doing this, Louie. You know this."

"Absolutely, we can. In fact, we must! Can you imagine a French restaurant with no truffles?"

Atsumu and Kishaun, one of the line cooks, glanced at each other, eyes wide. Colette Dauphin, Hue's prim and proper French owner, and head chef Louie were at odds. It was rare to hear Colette and Louie arguing. Hue's owner and head chef were typically on the same page. Whenever they weren't, Colette had a tendency to give in to Louie to avoid a fight, especially if it was a matter of the menu.

Toby came around the corner, as if running away from the shouting. "Mr. Atsumu! Mr. Kishaun! What is happening?"

"The world is ending, that's what," Kishaun whispered.

"What the heck is going on?" Emma jogged in from the staff hallway, having just clocked in to hear the loud conversation.

"Best we can figure," Atsumu explained, "They disagree on the truffle risotto. Colette thinks it's too expensive to keep on the menu. Louie thinks we can't have a french restaurant without it."

The four stopped talking when they heard more loud conversation through the service window.

"We are not getting anywhere," Colette said, in her heavy French accent. "Let's begin again. The price of the truffles is going up. These were already very expensive. If we keep them on the menu, we will have to raise the price of the risotto too much. It will be too high. This is simple maths."

"I understand," Louie countered, "But I find it challenging to call this a fine dining restaurant without a risotto."

"Oui, I agree with you. But let us make a different risotto. Perhaps porcini mushrooms. They are more affordable."

"You mean like the porcini risotto they serve in at least three other restaurants down the street?"

Colette shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. "I do not know what you want from me, Louie, dear."

Louie threw his arms up in frustration. "I am completely open to changing the risotto, but I will not put a pedestrian dish on our menu. That is something I will not compromise on."

Colette nodded. Louie sighed. Most other ingredients they could think of just didn't strike Louie's fancy. They were either common risotto dishes or too expensive to source reliably.

"Chef."

Colette and Louie turned to see Kiyoomi, who had been working quietly in the prep area of the kitchen, practicing new sauces. Thankfully, they didn't notice Atsumu, Kishaun, Toby and Emma's faces all squished together in the small service window, watching.

"Chef, if I may…" Kiyoomi continued.

Louie gave him a nod of approval.

"I have a contact from one of my previous jobs, a man who has been farming mushrooms for years. Very high quality product. He recently started branching into supplying restaurants and is looking to expand."

Colette and Louie listened patiently as Kiyoomi spoke. Atsumu couldn't help but take note of his confidence and the spark of excitement in his dark, brooding eyes when he had a good idea.

"He specifically is one of the only mushroom farmers in the area who grows pink oyster mushrooms."

"Pink?" Louie raised a brow suspiciously.

"Yes, they taste woodier than standard oyster mushrooms, and have a good meaty texture. They're quite affordable, but still unique."

"Have you cooked with these?" Louie asked.

"Yes, they cook down the same, but they keep their pink color. We could even pair them with something like lardons and then top the dish with a few of the pink caps. It makes a beautiful presentation."

Louie thought about it for a moment. "That could work. Can you get a few in for us to test?"

"Absolutely." Kiyoomi wiped his hands on a rag and pulled his cell phone out to begin tapping out a message.

Colette clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Monsieur Sakusa, please send me the details of this friend of yours and I will discuss the costs."

"Yes, madame." Kiyoomi bowed slightly as she left the room, coffee cup in hand and her fashionable scarf flaring out behind her.

"Sakusa," Louie barked, "Any other tricks up your sleeve I should know about?"

Kiyoomi chuckled, "You don't realize what contacts you have until someone needs them."

Louie uncrossed his arms, moving back to the meat he had been butchering before Colette came in. "It's fine. Make sure you keep making me look good for hiring you."

Kiyoomi smiled wide. "Oui, Chef." Another bow.

The spectators in the window dispersed before they could get caught.

"Holy shit." Kishaun marveled. "Louie never agrees with anyone's ideas except his own."

Atsumu smiled wide and parked himself in the service window again to watch the chefs focus on their work again. It was true. Somehow Kiyoomi's calm demeanor brought everyone down a notch and quickly solved the problem. He couldn't take his eyes off of Kiyoomi's deft hands sprinkling ingredients into his sauce, stirring and gracefully tossing pans as if it were second nature. Atsumu watched intently as the stunning chef brought a spoon to his luscious lips to taste his work.

"Careful," Emma perched her face on Atsumu's shoulder from behind, startling him suddenly. He turned around, wide-eyed.

"Jesus, Emma. Careful for what?"

Emma smirked with a toying expression. "Your hard-on is showing."

Atsumu's jaw dropped and he shot his eyes downwards, inspecting his pants. "No it ain't!"

"AHAHA!" Emma lost it, cackling loudly.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Emma! Yer evil!"

Hue's pink oyster mushroom risotto was all the rage. In fact, it became such a fan favorite that it received a special mention in several popular local foodie blogs.

***

"All right, all right. Settle down. Family meeting starts now."

Louie's voice carried across the empty dining area. He and Fuyumi had gathered the restaurant staff for their regular weekly meeting. Servers and cooks each have their own separate daily meetings prior to service to go over details like menu adjustments, but the weekly 'family meeting' included both the front of house and kitchen staff all together. They used this time to go over special events, shift reassignments or issues that needed to be addressed.

The staff all quieted down, seated mostly around the bar to listen. Today's meeting was especially important.

"It's Valentine's Day, everyone!" Fuyumi, the General Manager, kicked off.

"We make 10% of our annual sales on this day alone. It's huge for us here at Hue. As you know, we do a special tasting menu every year that the locals look forward to. I expect all of you, regardless of your position, to deliver on those high expectations. Now, we went over the general theme of the tasting menu at the last family meeting, but today we need to memorize the specifics. I'll let Louie tell you all about this year's menu."

"Thanks Fuyumi." Louie stood from his seat and turned to face the room while Fuyumi stepped to his side.

"We revealed the theme of this year's Valentine's Day menu last week - French Elegance. I've done all the sourcing and put together two full menus for the customers to choose from. Take notes."

Everyone in the room shuffled their mini notebooks diligently.

"The appetizers are Quiche Lorraine with gruyere cheese, topped with candied bacon and a cheese tuile, or crispy Potato Pancakes with smoked salmon, caviar and dill cream. Entrees are a choice between a warm Nicoise Salad with seared tuna steak, or Steak au Poivre with red wine pan sauce." Louie paused and listened to the sound of scribbling pens, giving everyone a moment to catch up.

After he saw all the servers' eyes on him again, he continued. He wasn't too concerned with the kitchen staff - they've been cooking these dishes alongside him all week to practice. "The steak comes with Duchess potatoes - they're like mashed potatoes with egg yolks to make them more stiff so that we can pipe them onto the plate like a rosette. Remember to refer to the Nicoise salad as warm. We swapped some components out so it isn't the traditional version. I don't want anyone complaining."

Another pause.

"Dessert is, of course, creme brulee," Louie continued. A few cheers popped at this, creme brulee being a popular favorite among the staff. "Or chocolate souffle."

The cooking staff groaned at the mention of souffle. It had been a challenge to master that recipe. They felt quite confident now, but they still hated making the souffle. Louie chuckled at his chefs.

"If you don't know what anything is, or customers have questions, don't hesitate to ask me or Sakusa. Probably Sakusa would be better. I'll be too busy manning the pass." With that, he sat back down and handed the floor off to Fuyumi again.

Fuyumi began, "I want to be very clear - some of the ingredients for the dishes today, especially the caviar, are extremely expensive. We cannot waste any of it. Please be exceptionally careful when running the food, and make sure you are super accurate when you take food orders. No food - and I mean absolutely no food loss today."

The staff went over a few more important notes and then dispersed to prepare for service. On his way to the kitchen, Kiyoomi walked by the servers, catching Atsumu's last few words of encouragement. He had come to enjoy seeing how Atsumu's leadership qualities shone whenever acting in his supervisory role.

"Ask me if ya need anythin' at all. I'm here to help. Now let's get out there and fill some bellies!" Atsumu clapped his hands once as he finished, releasing the servers.

He caught sight of Kiyoomi walking by and jogged a few steps to meet him.

"Heya! Are ya excited, Omi!?"

"Hmm. Sure."

"Aww come on, it's a special day!"

"You seem to have enough enthusiasm for the both of us."

"Haha! Fine then, I'll add that to my to-do list," he jokingly mimed scribbling in his notebook as he said his next words. "Be… extra… excited… to make up… fer Omi… bein' a grump."

He looked back up at Kiyoomi, who was rolling his eyes, and gave him one more bubbly laugh. "Happy Valentine's Day, Omi. Good luck with the souffle."

"Gee, thanks." Kiyoomi turned and walked away before Atsumu could spot the dumb grin on his face.

A few hours later, dinner service was in full swing. The restaurant was decorated for the occasion, with vases of red roses and heart-shaped garlands spread throughout. The customers were loving the festive menu, with couples and large friend groups alike enjoying themselves.

Fuyumi had asked Atsumu to look over the reservations for the next wave of customers to see how many walk-in parties they could accommodate. He was running a finger over the seating chart and comparing it to the reservation book when he heard a disheartening sound.

"Oh no, no, no…" It wasn't a yell, but it wasn't a whisper.

He looked towards the service station to see Toby hunched over a plate and clutching a clump of his copper blonde hair in one fist. A couple of customers looked in the direction of the noise, but quickly went back to their food. Atsumu muttered a few apologies and walked calmly to Toby.

"What is it, Toby? Need something?"

"Mr. Atsumu! You have to help me, please!" The boy looked lost in shock.

"What is it? Whatever it is, we'll fix it, okay?"

Toby groaned and squeezed his eyes closed. "I dropped something in the caviar."

"...Huh?"

"I was - I was garnishing potato pancakes for table 3 with the caviar, but my eyes have been bugging me all night. So I stopped to rub my eye and… and…" The boy paused, wringing his hands out.

"And what, Toby? I can't help if ya don't tell me."

Toby took a deep breath. "I lost a contact lens in the jar."

Everything went still for a moment as Atsumu processed this information. He looked down and sure enough, a small clear silicone circle sat neatly in the center of the large jar of caviar the servers were using to garnish their special appetizer. Specifically, the $200 jar of French caviar Louie had so dutifully sourced.

"Well, fuck." Atsumu mumbled low enough that no customers could hear.

"Mr. Atsumu, please. You have to help me! I can't lose this job!"

"Yer not gonna lose yer job, Toby," he placed a gentle hand on Toby's shoulder and led him through the door labeled 'Staff Only,' grabbing the contaminated jar of caviar along the way. He brought the distraught boy to the storage room.

"Yes I will! Fuyumi was really specific, and this is literally the most expensive food in the building right now! What if she takes it from my pay? I can't afford that! I'm already overdue on my car insurance!"

Toby looked to be on the verge of tears. Atsumu knew what it was like to be a teenager freshly out on his own, trying to learn how to make ends meet. He sympathized, but more than that, he needed to calm Toby so they could fix the problem and finish service.

"Look, Toby. There's a second jar in the kitchen fridge. Fuyumi convinced Louie it was worth orderin' backup."

Toby's shoulders relaxed instantly and he sighed in relief.

"But!" Atsumu held a hand up to emphasize this point. "This means we've got no extra, so tell everybody to be a bit less generous on each plate… and let's portion it into smaller containers so there's no cross-contaminatin' if ya lose yer other contact." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Okay, okay," Toby nodded frantically. "I can tell everyone. Do we need to ask Louie for the caviar, though?"

"No, now isn't the time to stress him or Fuyumi out." Atsumu sighed and rubbed his temple. This was an important night and there was no reason to bring more people into the fire right now.

Having made a solid decision, Atsumu patted Toby's shoulder reassuringly. "We can fix this ourselves. I'll let them know after service and they can mark it off as food waste in the books." Seeing Toby's eyes go wide, Atsumu quickly added, "and don't worry, this isn't the kind of thing ya'd have to pay fer or lose yer job over. I promise ya that. It's happened before and it'll happen again. I mean, not with $200 worth of caviar, but ya know what I mean. It was a mistake. It falls under the cost of doin' business."

Feeling better, Toby got back on task and returned to serving in the dining room. Atsumu made his way out of the storage room and down the hall.

Next, he had to figure out how to get the jar. Louie was very particular about his kitchen. The head chef did not allow any servers behind the line where they could get in the way, and of course, the fridge Atsumu needed access to was behind the line.

The kitchen looked like organized chaos. Louie stood at the pass, calling out orders and checking the food before handing it off to servers through the service window. After each order was called, the cooks called it back in perfect unison.

He glanced at the far end of the line where Kiyoomi was and he couldn't help but be captivated by the muscular sous chef. He was in his element, confident and composed as he whipped dishes together. Even though he was calling out "Oui, Chef!" alongside all the other cooks, Kiyoomi's voice stood out above the rest. It was rich and deep, carrying across the pass easily. To top things off, he had his wild jet black curls pulled back out of his face with a fabric band, in what was possibly the sexiest way to protect food Atsumu had ever seen. A few unruly curls framed his deep-set eyes and bounced around with his movements.

Kiyoomi caught sight of Atsumu practically drooling in his peripheral vision. He glanced over, forcing Atsumu to break his gaze away towards the fridge he needed to access. Having been caught, Atsumu blushed a little and Kiyoomi turned back to the task before him with a smirk.

While Louie was occupied reading tickets, Atsumu decided to use his tried-and-true method - act like you belong there. He moved with purpose through the kitchen towards the fridge, which felt unreasonably far. The entire time, Atsumu kept repeating the mantra, 'Nothin to see here, this is totally normal, I'm an invisible ninja…' and so on in his head. It was pointless, as if he could psychically convince everyone else in the kitchen, but it helped his confidence nonetheless.

He took long strides behind the pass, stepping up to the line cook's area and opening the fridge at the end of a long row of cooktops. He spotted the backup jar of caviar quickly, snatching it and closing the fridge again.

He turned around to see the entirety of the kitchen staff staring at him.

The cooks looked like they were giving him side eye, but that was because they had to keep their eyes on their pans. Still, they were confused by seeing front-of-house staff in their area in the middle of service. Sizzling heat, sputtering oil, and occasional open flames posed significant risk, and Louie had always made it clear that his concerns surfaced as a result of severe kitchen accidents at a previous establishment with no real distinction between areas.

Atsumu kept his facial expression flat and retreated back towards the kitchen doors. There, he saw Louie staring daggers at him with a ticket in his hand.

"What are you doing back here?"

Atsumu lifted the jar in his hand with a smile painted on his face. "We need this up front, Lou. Sorry 'bout that. Didn't wanna bug ya!"

Louie turned back to the pass, too busy to do much else. "Do not come back here again during service. If you needed it, you should have moved it out before we started."

"Chef, that's my fault." A deep voice interrupted Atsumu and Louie's tense exchange. They turned to see Kiyoomi holding up an oven mitt and then quickly returning to the oven where he was carefully lifting out a perfect souffle.

"Sakusa?" Louie asked in confusion. "What is?"

Atsumu looked back and forth between the two, baffled.

"I stocked the reach-in fridge for service today. I should have left the caviar in the walk-in." Kiyoomi explained, referring to the larger fridge they kept in the storage room.

"Hmm." Louie nodded. "Fine. That's a dangerous mistake. Be more careful when you're stocking."

"Oui, Chef." Kiyoomi nodded in return and went back to his work, unphased.

Louie turned back to Atsumu. "Go. If you need something back here, don't just waltz in. Ask."

"You got it, Lou!" Atsumu smiled kindly and walked out of the kitchen, taking a huge breath of relief.

The short hall he stepped into felt downright chilly in contrast to the sweltering kitchen. He waited just a few seconds before giving himself a pat on the back. He got what he wanted, no worse for the wear. It was thanks to Kiyoomi, of course, but that fact made Atsumu smile even wider.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, with Hue having one of its most successful nights yet. After service, a few staff members stayed behind to handle cleanup duties. Atsumu was just wheeling a cart of table centerpieces back into storage when he saw Kiyoomi step out of the kitchen. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, still in his chef whites. Atsumu never understood how Kiyoomi's uniform always stayed so clean in the kitchen. Kiyoomi's eyes were more sunken than usual, his demeanor clearly showing how tired he was. Even his curls seemed to wilt.

"Long day. Huh, Omi?"

Kiyoomi flinched, startled. "Fuck, I didn't see you there."

Atsumu pushed his cart to the side and walked up to the sous chef. "By the way, thanks fer helpin me today."

"Hmm?"

"With Lou."

Kiyoomi rolled his shoulders, trying to release some tension. "Ah! Yeah, Louie's all bark. He probably forgot it happened as soon as you walked out the door."

"He didn't yell at ya or nothin?"

"Nah. He wouldn't. Can't run the kitchen without me."

"Humble, I see."

"He wouldn't have been mad at you either, you know."

"Well he mighta complained to Fuyumi. I don't need that shit."

"This place would fall apart without you. Louie knows that. Fuyumi does, too." His face remained unchanged, as stoic as if he were stating the ocean was deep.

Atsumu's jaw dropped open slightly. He felt a warmth flow through his chest, his cheeks tinting pink. "Ya… ya really think so, Omi? Nothin' I do is all that special."

Kiyoomi chuckled, raising a brow. "But you are," he mumbled.

"Huh? I'm what?"

"Nothing." Kiyoomi coughed. "You're great at what you do, Atsumu. Seems not enough people tell you that."

A soft smile lingered on Kiyoomi's face while Atsumu processed the compliment.

"U-uhh, well… no. No one has told me that, hehehe. I've kinda always been the overenthusiastic fuckup. At least, growin up I was."

Atsumu's giggle was adorable.

"I'm sure that's not true, Atsumu. You're a quick thinker, you're kind, you're annoying sometimes but it's all because you get excited about too many things… and even though you're headstrong, you're capable. That's obvious."

The more words came from Kiyoomi's mouth, the closer Atsumu's face got to a dark beet red. The chef was never this candid and talkative, but Atsumu could tell every word was sincere. Kiyoomi wasn't one to dress up his language, and though he was a man of few words, each one had always been straightforward.

Kiyoomi finally looked up and saw how flushed Atsumu had become. He hadn't realized he was spewing out his real thoughts nonstop, and it was all true. Atsumu's sharp wit and jovial nature had been simultaneously endearing and infuriating to the chef. Being exhausted had deteriorated his carefully crafted mental walls. His eyes grew wide and his own cheeks reddened.

"Oh, sorry. I'm half asleep and I guess my brain forgot how to shut up. I should get home and get some rest." Kiyoomi feigned rubbing his eyes in an attempt to hide his blush.

"Ah! Haha, yeah. Ya must be beat."

"Good night, Atsumu." Kiyoomi shifted the bag on his shoulder and moved towards the back entrance.

"W-wait!"

Kiyoomi stopped in his tracks and turned back towards Atsumu. "Hmm?"

"Th-thank ya. Thank ya fer the kind words. No one's ever told me all that and, even though it's cuz yer tired, I appreciate it."

Atsumu reached to the cart behind him, plucking a red rose from one of the centerpieces and extending it towards Kiyoomi.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Omi." Atsumu flashed a charming smile.

Kiyoomi returned the smile, accepting the rose and drawing it close to his face to admire the beautiful color. "Happy Valentine's Day, Atsumu. See you tomorrow."

"Night, Omi."