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Jon knew better than to trust Sharpy, he really did. But the guy kept going on and on about this hot dog stand - telling Jon he had to try them, man. Because apparently they’re the best fucking dogs ever. He’d made the mistake of going off about how all hotdogs taste the same and then Sharpy had just kind of exploded at him. Wondering, loudly, about how it was even possible for Jon to have lived in Chicago this long without realizing the different styles and that each place is fucking unique and special...like some kind of snowflake or something. Whatever. Jon was only half listening to the rant.
And yet, somehow, while he was out for a long lunch break, the address Sharpy had given him popped up in his head. He was really close to the place and thought why the hell not, if only to get his friend to quit pestering him every chance he had.
Of course, once he saw the sign outside the tiny building - big, red, with annoyingly bold, black letters - Jon thought, yeah, I don’t think so. Because no food establishment called Patty’s Fatties could be good. Like, just on principle or something.
He would’ve turned away too, if not for a group of high school aged kids jostling past him and, subsequently, pushing him closer to the door. It opened and it actually smelled good inside. Jon was hungry. So he went in.
The line was about twenty people deep but moving fast. Everyone seemed to know what they wanted already, like they were frequent customers. And, see, this was why Jon hated places like this, hated trying new food joints. Because he wasn’t familiar with anything. And if he was standing in line about to order, he got this weird anxiety about holding up the people behind him while he asked the server what was good. The answer was always some variation of the same thing, all the food was good (with a few dishes thrown in that almost never seemed to appeal to Jon) and he ended up getting something subpar and never wanting to go back again. Or he’d take his time and annoy the person taking his order.
Like he was apparently doing now.
“What’ll it be,” an annoyed voice called out as Jon looked over the menu. It wasn’t even asked, really, like the guy couldn’t be bothered with politeness.
“Um, I don’t know. I’ve never been here before.”
“Oh great. Another one. We got a newbie, Kaner!”
Jon looked away from the menu to better glare at the rude asshole taking his order (or the rude asshole who would take his order once he figured out what he wanted. If he even wanted anything after all that. Which he didn’t think he did) but before Jon could really stare him down, another person slid into view.
There was this short - Jon wanted to say kid because the guy looked young but if the other worker was calling for him he had to be in charge, right? - guy with blonde hair curling up around a backwards hat which, shouldn’t he have been wearing a hairnet? Wasn’t that standard procedure for food handling? Big blue eyes and a sloppy smile on his face, he didn’t look like someone who should be in charge. Not that Jon was trying to judge or something. But.
“Welcome to Patty’s Fatties, bro. I’m Kaner.”
Kaner - what kind of name was that - gestured for Jon to step out of line and towards the opposite end of the counter where people were picking up their food. Jon wanted to complain about the cashier, maybe wanted to ask what was so special about these hot dogs that allowed the employees to be so casual and dismissive of customers. Instead, what came out was, “I can’t believe this place is actually called Patty’s Fatties. Who the hell came up with that name?”
Kaner’s smile grew wide, all his teeth showing, before answering. “The owner, obviously.”
Before Jon could respond to that, Kaner started going off about their ‘dogs. Different toppings and condiments and buns and just Jesus it was a lot to take in.
“Can’t I just get a regular hot dog with ketchup and mustard?”
You’d have thought Jon’d let out some obscenity the way Kaner’s smile soured immediately. “Dude, ketchup does not go on hot dogs.”
“Sure it does.”
“No, it does not.”
“That’s how I always ate them as a kid.” Because that was the last time Jon could remember having one.
“Well, your entire childhood was wrong. Sorry, man.”
“What? You can’t tell me my childhood was wrong. Who says that?”
“I do. And I can.”
What the fuck ever, Jon thought, and turned to leave.
“Where are you going? You haven’t even tried one of our dogs!”
Jon was all set to look back at Kaner and give him a piece of his mind. Between this kid and the other at the register, this entire food establishment was a joke and fuck if he was going to stay here and have employees abuse him when he should be getting waited on hand and food. The customer was always right. And if these guys didn’t bother with following that one golden rule of business then they obviously didn’t need his money.
Kaner must’ve seen the murderous look in Jon’s eyes because his smirk disappeared as quick as it’d come. Instead, he frowned and his eyes got all big and round and. Okay, Jon hated to use the expression puppy dog eyes but there they were, staring at him and making him feel somehow guilty.
“Hey, sorry man,” Kaner said straight off. He looked it too. “Listen, just let me make you my specialty. And then if it’s not any good you can leave. Or, I guess, add ketchup. Whatever.” The concession looked like it pained him.
Jon kind of wanted to laugh at that.
Instead he nodded while Kaner smiled and took off for the kitchen. It felt weird to be standing there, nothing to do but wait. He almost pulled out his phone to text Sharpy a complaint about the hotdog stand he’d recommended. This was clearly all his fault. But something made Jon stop. Probably the fact he hadn’t even tried any food yet. So, slipping the phone back in his pocket, Jon decided to wait until after he’d eaten and, no doubt hated, the hotdog before yelling at Sharpy.
While he waited, he people watched. He couldn’t get over how many customers were cramming into the tiny space. It had to violate a safety code for sure, but apparently people thought the risk of getting trampled to death in case of a fire was worth it for this food. Who knew? Jon had yet to ever eat something so good he’d wait in an ever increasing line just to get it. Because that’s what was happening now, the line spilling out the door and around the building.
What the fuck was so good about these hot dogs?
“Here.” Kaner’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and Jon looked up in time to see the guy sliding a paper plate his way.
Jon looked at the dog a little distrustful. He could see some kind of pepper on it, a pickle, a tomato and maybe mustard. It looked like a typical Chicago Style dog. And he’d never really wanted to try one before. But Kaner had made it for him and Jon had agreed to trying it. So.
He wasn’t expecting much when he bit into it. But, God, was he wrong. And he had to manfully resist the urge to moan as the taste, like, fucking exploded on his tongue. His face must’ve given him away though, because he heard Kaner chuckle quietly and when he chanced a look at him, the guy had the biggest, cheesiest grin on his stupid, smug face.
“Good?”
Jon couldn’t answer because he was too busy inhaling the entire fucking thing. Somewhere in the back of his mind was a voice reminding him about just how unhealthy any type of hot dog was. He shut it up by eating faster. Of course, that only meant it was gone sooner and fuck if he didn’t want another one.
But, no. One was enough. One was more than enough. He had to admit to Kaner that that was the best fucking hot dog he’d ever had - even without ketchup. And when he said as much, Kaner just laughed and laughed. It wasn’t done meanly, Jon didn’t think. Kaner sounded honestly happy about it.
“How much do I owe you?” Jon asked as he reached for his wallet.
“Nah, man. Put that away. This one is on the house.”
“Seriously?” Who was this kid that he could just give away free food?
“Yeah, for sure. Just...you know, maybe if you liked it that much you’ll come back again? Try some different dogs?” Kaner sounded so hopeful. Like he actually wanted Jon as a repeat customer.
“Um,” Jon started, feeling awkward for some reason. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Great! So I’ll be seeing you soon…” Kaner trailed off.
“Jonathan.” He held out his hand which Kaner took and shook just once, squeezing hard enough that Jon felt it even after pulling his hand back.
“Cool. See you soon, Jonny.”
--
Jon wasn’t planning on going back to Patty’s so soon. It hadn’t even been a week; he didn’t like hot dogs that much - even if the one Kaner had made was really fucking good. But then Sharpy had come back from lunch one day, dirty napkins in one hand and a messy, crumpled wrapper in the other...a messy, crumpled Patty’s Fatties wrapper in the other.
“Oh God, I am so fucking full.” Sharpy belched. “I need a nap.”
“You’re disgusting,” Jon said as Sharpy wiped at his mouth with one of the used napkins. It only managed to smear some kind of sauce around his face.
“Shut up. I just had the best chili dog ever.”
“Mhm.”
“You really need to try it, Toes.”
Jon hadn’t told Sharpy about going yet because he hated when Sharpy was right. He was always such a smug asshole whenever it rarely happened.
“Sure, whatever you say, Sharpy.”
--
“What’ll it be?”
Jon recognized the voice. It was the same kid as last time. But this time, Jon got a good look at him. He was definitely younger than Kaner. He had a scrappy look about him, as if he picked a lot of fights. Judging by the scars on his face, Jon thought he probably did.
“Um.”
“You new here?” The kid gave him a funny look, like maybe he recognized Jon but wasn’t sure.
“I was here last week but I’m not sure what I got?”
The kid just blinked at Jon.
“Uh, Kaner made me something?” he tried.
The sudden smile on the guy’s face was a shock. But then he was calling out for Kaner - just like last time - and the man slid out from the kitchen again.
“Sup, Shawsy?”
“You’ve got a visitor.”
Kaner stared at Jon for a second - a long second where Jon was convinced Kaner must not’ve recognized him. But then Kaner was reaching over the counter to slap Jon’s shoulder and yelling out, “Jonny!” like they were buddies or something. Jon felt a little bit of relief at that.
“Back for more, eh?” He motioned for Jon to follow him - again, just like last time - until they were at the end of the counter away from the crowd.
“Yeah, uh.” Jon scratched at the side of his neck a little idly, trying to think of what to say. He saw Kaner’s eyes track the movement and stopped, embarrassed at his nervous tick. “I don’t know what you made me last time, so -”
“Ahhh, I see.”
Jon thought back to Sharpy. His messy napkins and the satisfied look on his face.
“You make chili dogs?”
“Do I!”
--
He’d never had a chili dog before. He was regretting going so long without now, though. Because the dog Kaner put in front of him was so good. And he couldn’t help the noises he made as he ate.
Kaner coughed a few times before croaking out a, “pretty good, huh?”
“The best,” Jon managed to say back, mouth full and not even caring.
Kaner didn’t need to know it was the only chili dog he’d ever had. Especially with the way Kaner smiled in response. So pleased, taking the compliment so personally. As if Jon’s opinion meant everything.
“Hey, uh,” Kaner started, eyes focused on Jon’s mouth. “You’ve got some chili -” and he motioned at his own face vaguely. “ - there.”
“Oh,” Jon replied, feeling his cheeks heat as he wiped at his mouth. God, he’d made a mess of himself. How much more embarrassing could he get?
“Not there, there.” Kaner pointed at a spot on his face and Jon tried to mirror the action. “No,” Kaner said again when Jon had apparently missed. “Here, let me.”
Before Jon could react, Kaner had taken the napkin out of his hand and began dabbing gently at the corner of Jon’s mouth, following the curve of his bottom lip and putting enough pressure behind the touch that Jon felt it as if it were skin to skin.
He looked at Kaner to see if he could tell just how out of sorts Jon was about their close contact but all he saw was Kaner’s eyes fixated on the spot he was touching. And the way Kaner seemingly unconsciously licked his lips as he cleaned Jon’s face.
“Um,” Jon stuttered out.
“Huh?” Kaner’s gaze snapped up to Jon’s eyes. “Oh! Sorry,” he muttered. He withdrew his hand like he’d been burned. Jon noticed how flushed Kaner’s cheeks were. They hadn’t been before, not even from the heat of the kitchen.
Jon smiled, feeling something low in his belly - and it wasn’t the chili dog - churn with excitement. “It’s ok.”
“Cool,” Kaner said, not quite meeting his eyes. “So have I got you hooked yet? Keep you coming back for more?”
“Definitely.”
Now Kaner was looking right at him. And the smile he gave Jon only made that tight feeling in his gut intensify.
--
Jon became a regular at Patty’s Fatties after that. He went at least once a week, more if he could swing it without the potential of running into Sharpy. He could admit - if only to himself - that going so often was only partly because of the good food. The other part had everything to do with Kaner and his ridiculous blue eyes and wide, smiling mouth.
But it wasn’t like Jon had a crush or…
Okay, yeah. So he had a crush.
It didn’t help that Kaner was always so happy to see Jon, bellowing out a “Jonny boy!” every time he came by. It also didn’t help that Kaner was constantly supplying Jon with specialty dogs not on the menu, ones Kaner was thinking of adding soon.
He’d walk out with something new every time. And Jon would respond with doubts - guacamole on a hot dog? - and praise - is that bacon? - accordingly. Kaner watched him intently the whole time. It was a little nerve wracking to be the subject of such scrutiny but Jon figured Kaner was just trying to get the best, most honest reaction out of Jon; to see if the dog was good enough to go up on Patty’s menu.
Jon found he didn’t mind so much when Kaner would smile brilliantly, all dimples and teeth, at him while clapping his hands in excitement. He didn’t even mind when Kaner pouted in disappointment if Jon didn’t like something because, well...that mouth.
Kaner always turned Jon's money away, said it was no good at Patty's. But Jon didn't want to get Kaner in trouble. He always left money on the counter or, if Kaner caught him, in the tip jar Jon knew got divided between all the employees.
Everyone that worked at Patty’s knew Jon now. They’d greet him almost as warmly as Kaner, talk to him like he was their friend or something. It made Jon feel bad about his immediate dislike of Shaw - Andrew - that very first day. He was a good kid, still a punk, but always asking after Jon’s day and calling him up front if there was a long line. Like he was some kind of VIP there.
Jon didn’t mind the special treatment at all.
--
“I’m gonna get some dogs for lunch. Wanna come with, Tazer? Finally try Patty’s Fatties and admit how right I was?”
Jon really would’ve liked to go, if only because he hadn’t seen Kaner for over two weeks. Work had been so busy, cutting into his lunch break, and then his parents had flown down from Winnipeg for a surprise visit and, well. It had been impossible to go.
But he couldn’t go with Sharpy because then his friend would know Jon had been coming all along, that Jon liked the dogs. That Jon liked Kaner. No. That just could not happen.
“Nah, I’m ok.”
Jon was just about to add a, “thanks, though,” when Sharpy clapped him on the shoulder - hard - and nodded. “Probably for the best. I’ve noticed you’re getting a little too much junk inside that trunk of yours.”
And with a laugh and a slap to Jon’s ass, Sharpy left.
“Shut up, fatty!” Jon called out to Sharpy’s retreating back.
--
“Jonny! Long time no see!” Shaw grinned as Jon walked in.
“Yeah -”
And he was just about to explain his absence, apologize like he’d done something wrong, when Kaner came into view. It was good seeing him, Jon had missed his smile. Only, Kaner wasn’t smiling then.
“Jonny?”
“Hey! Kaner. Hi.” He felt dumb for some reason and a little unsure as he grinned, taking in Kaner’s douchey cap and sloppy apron.
“It’s been awhile.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” he huffed out as he walked to what he had started considering their spot - the far side of the counter. “I got caught up in work shit and then my family came down from Winnipeg and -” Jon cut himself off when he realized what he was about to say.
“And what?”
Kaner was giving Jon those stupidly huge, sad puppy dog eyes. Like, so earnest and hopeful that Jon would give a good reason for not coming by. That it wasn’t because Jon didn’t like Kaner...er Patty’s.
“One of my coworkers said something to me about, uh, well.” Jon kind of motioned at his ass even though he was fucking mortified as Kaner’s eyes followed his hand. “All my visits here haven’t’ done my ass any favors.”
“Debatable,” Kaner blurted out as he leaned over the counter. And then, “Uh...I mean?”
They stared at each other for what felt like forever until a random customer, on his way to get more napkins, bumped into Jon.
“So anyway,” Kaner started with a little chuckle. “You got time to stay for one of my latest creations?” As if Jon hadn’t told him that all those hotdogs were giving him a fat ass.
“I really shouldn’t.” Jon hedged. But Kaner was giving him those eyes again. They were so hard to resist. “I guess I could. But that’ll mean more time working it off later.”
“If you need someone to work it off with -” Kaner blushed...and so did Jon when he realized how that sounded. “I mean, if you need a workout buddy, I’m available.”
“That sounds good.” Except, not. Because Jon couldn’t help but imagine Kaner in a lot less clothes, all sweaty and stretched out and...yeah.
Kaner grinned and pulled his phone out of his jeans. “Okay. Gimme your number and I’ll text you mine.”
He rattled off his cell and then, a few seconds later, felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and saved. He couldn’t stop the giddy feeling of getting Kaner’s number. Even if not quite in the way he envisioned.
“Cool.”
“Yeah.”
--
Jon figured Kaner was waiting for him to text about meeting up. So on Friday, after a hellish week that left Jon with a desire to burn off his frustration, he asked Kaner to meet him at the park.
Kaner may have been shorter than Jon but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fit. Or that Jon couldn’t appreciate the thin grey shirt stretched tight over his shoulders and chest. And maybe if Jon ran slow enough he could check and see if Kaner’s ass was as nice as it seemed even hidden behind baggy jeans.
“You ready, Jonny?” Kaner’s voice startled Jon out of his staring. It was for the best. Probably.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
--
Jon’s phone buzzed early the next morning with a text from Kaner.
fuck you and your runs, man. my legs feel like they’re gonna fall off.
fuck you. you woke me up.
also. sorry. i guess.
lazy ass
it’s sat. i’m allowed.
some of us don’t get the luxury of weekends off
you have to work? today?
yup
but you’re always there it seems like
hunger waits for no one Jonny
yeah but
your boss must work you pretty hard
lol yeah he does ;)
maybe you can come visit me. help take my mind off my poor legs since it’s all your fault they hurt.
Jon sat up in bed, still a little fuzzy from sleep, and wondered if there was more behind the invitation than just friendliness.
or not. that’s cool too
Texting was annoying because Jon couldn’t always tell how to take them. Like that one. Did Kaner really not care? Or was
he doing his little disappointed pout because he wanted to see Jon? He kind of hoped it was the latter.
no, that sounds good. i’ll get there before the lunch rush
awesome! see you tomorrow :D
--
Even coming before the lunch rush, Patty’s was busier than usual. Granted, it was Saturday. Maybe this was normal for weekends. He spotted Kaner immediately, walking around the customers and chatting them up as they ate. He didn’t look like his legs bothered him, all but swaggering around the crowded space, towel slung across his shoulder. Kaner was in his element, boisterous and charming, wide smile stretching his face and dimples out in full force.
Jon’s chest almost ached with how much he wanted him.
“Hey, Kaner!” he called out as he neared the group Kaner was currently entertaining.
“Jonny!”
Kaner excused himself and turned an even bigger smile at Jon. He couldn’t help but smile back. Kaner wrapped him up in a hug - a full body press that seemed too intimate for just friends but that Jon liked nonetheless.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Not too sore from yesterday, I hope.”
He hadn’t realized they’d wandered back so close to the counter until Jon heard a loud “ew!” and turned to see Shaw giving them the stink eye,
“What?”
“Nobody wants to hear about your sex life, dudes.”
“Excuse me” Jon stammered as Kaner yelled “What the hell, man.”
Shaw clearly enjoyed their reactions, based off the way he smirked at both Jon and Kaner. “What, you mean you weren’t talking about how Jon here worked you so hard you’ve been bitching all morning about how sore you are?”
“From running!” Jon was glad for Kaner’s shout because he had no words.
Of course, Shaw sure seemed to be full of them. He just kept talking. “Oh, I see. Not one to kiss and tell, huh, Kaner?”
“If you value your job at all, Mutt, you will shut up.” It was worded as a threat but came out sounding pleading to Jon. He looked at Kaner and saw how red in the face he was, how clearly embarrassed Shaw was making him.
And wondered.
He wanted to ask Shaw about Kaner and kissing and if there had been occasion for Kaner to stay quiet about that in the recent past. Before he could, though, Kaner looked up at the clock on the wall with an exaggerated shrug.
“Will you look at that? I think I’ll take my lunch break now.” He stuffed both hands in his pockets and turned to grin at Shaw. “Enjoy the rush, jackass.”
Kaner jerked one shoulder in the direction leading as far away from Shaw as possible - the front door. Jon thought it was a dismissal, that Kaner was ready to say goodbye after that awkward encounter. Which, wouldn’t that be the hint to end all hints?
“Hey,” Kaner started as they got right to the door, groups of people starting to flood in already. “I was hoping you’d join me for lunch? I have a new dog for you to try.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ll go make it real quick if you wanna grab us a table outside? Before all the good spots are taken.”
Jon nodded and walked out the door, turning just once in time to see Kaner smiling to himself.
--
“So I hope you like it,” Kaner said as he handed over a dog wrapped in tinfoil.
“I’m sure it’s great, Kaner. Thanks.”
Jon had purposely picked the smallest table outside Patty’s, the one tucked into the corner and forced its occupants to sit side by side. He smiled as he took the dog and knocked his knee against Kaner’s. Left it there too, when Kaner didn’t flinch away.
“I just figured, I don’t know, you deserved something special, just for you.”
Sudden warmth flooded through Jon’s body at Kaner’s words. “But all the dogs you’ve made me so far have been special.”
“Yeah. But not like this.” Jon gave him a questioning look but Kaner simply said, “just try it?” and nudged at Jon with his elbow.
Unwrapping the foil, Jon smelled something faintly sweet. When it was completely open, what looked like bacon crumbles were on top. Jon loved bacon on Kaner’s dogs - a fact Kaner knew well. There was some kind of sticky sauce the dog was coated in, something he’d never seen Kaner use before. He took a bite, all with Kaner watching avidly and -
“Is that...maple?”
Kaner nodded, just once like he was wary of Jon’s reaction. “Authentic Canadian Maple Syrup.”
“Why,” Jon asked as he took a bite. The sweetness of the maple syrup wasn’t overpowering, just there enough in the sauce to really enhance the salt in the dog and bacon.
“I guess because I know how much you miss your family up there and maybe this could remind you of home? If you like it. And, uh, it's not quite perfect yet either. So if you don't, just remember that. I was thinking of adding a little spinach? Maybe some goat cheese too. Maybe...”
If I like it, Jon thought as Kaner kept rambling. He hadn’t managed to stop eating the thing as Kaner talked. And then Kaner’s words sank in. “You made me a Canadian hot dog?”
The smile on Kaner’s face looked a little shy, maybe sheepish like he’d been caught out on something. And before Jon really knew what he was doing, hell before he’d even stopped to swallow completely, he was leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Kaner’s quirked lips.
Jon pulled back enough so he could swallow and noticed Kaner was sitting stiffly in his chair, eyes wide with shock.
“What was that for?”
“Sorry,” Jon muttered after he’d managed to actually swallow all his food. “It’s just, you made me a Canadian hot dog.”
“I did.”
“And I like it, that.”
“You do?”
Jon set down the rest of the dog so he could turn towards Kaner, grab hold of Kaner’s restless fingers tapping against the top of the table. “And also because I like you.”
“Oh.” Kaner was all smiles and dimples and flushed cheeks. Jon wanted to lean in and kiss him again. “I like you, too.”
How could Jon stop himself after that?
--
It had been a week since that kiss, since Kaner had confessed he’d been working on Jon’s dog for awhile but had been too afraid to share it in case Jon rejected him. A week of listening to ever increasingly horrible wiener jokes from everyone at Patty’s, including Kaner. A week of turning those jokes into sexy reality so every time Kaner heard the word wiener he blushed so red everyone made fun of him. A great week.
Jon wanted to make the week even better by having Kaner call in sick to work for the weekend. Not that he would normally condone slacking off but he had plans. Plans that involved neither of them leaving Jon’s bed.
“Sorry, Jonny. You know I can’t.”
“But why?” And normally it was Kaner that whined, but Jon just couldn’t help it. Especially not when Kaner rolled out of bed looking like that; naked and rumpled from sex and sleep.
“Work,” he called over his shoulder as he headed for Jon’s shower.
That was something Jon couldn’t get over liking so much - how comfortable Kaner already was in Jon’s apartment. Like he just belonged.
“Fine,” Jon muttered to himself. “Don’t expect me to come visit you, though!” He yelled loud enough for Kaner to hear over the running water.
“You’ll be there!”
He would be, too. That’s what was so annoying.
--
When Jon walked into Patty’s later that afternoon, the last person on earth he expected to see was Sharpy. So, naturally, he was there. In Jon’s spot at the far end of the counter with Kaner.
“What the -” he bit off before he could finish and hoped Sharpy didn’t see or hear him over the noise of the customers so he could sneak out.
Of course Sharpy noticed Jon, and with the smuggest of smug smiles, shouted out to him. “Toes! You finally decided to try Patty’s? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Toes?” He heard Kaner question. And then, because life wasn’t fair, “what do you mean, finally? Jonny’s been coming here for months.”
Sharpy turned a startled look to Kaner. “Months?” And then, when Kaner just smiled and nodded, not realizing he was damning Jon to a lifetime of a gloating, supposed best friend, looked back at Jon. “I see.”
Jon held his breath for the next thing Sharpy said, no doubt terrible and humiliating. “And does Kaner realize you have a super obvious crush on him? I mean, you are here eating hot dogs for the boy.”
Kaner laughed as Jon let out a breath. That wasn’t so bad. Only because Kaner already knew, but. “Dude, of course I know. We’ve been together for a week now.”
Jon couldn’t help but grin at Kaner’s words. Together. Not hooking up. Because this was important to both of them. But then Sharpy’s shrill, “what?!” cut through his lovesick fog and, oh shit. That bit of information was not going to sit well with Sharpy at all.
“You’ve been together for a week and I didn’t even know about it? Tazer, as your best friend I am really fucking hurt.”
There was no way Jon was apologizing. “Didn’t want you to be right about the dogs, I guess,” he tried instead, knowing Sharpy would still chirp him about it endlessly.
“Fucking ridiculous, man.” Sharpy shook his head but was still smiling. So he couldn’t be all that offended Jon had kept the news from him. “And speaking of fucking, now that that’s a thing you’re doing with my boy, Peeks, I expect all the free hot dogs I can shove in my mouth.”
Jon thought he heard Shaw in the background making a wiener joke about Sharpy he would’ve normally laughed at...if he wasn’t astounded by Sharpy’s audacity.. “Why would any of that mean you get free food, Patrick? Kaner can’t do that.”
It looked like Kaner was waving his arms to get Sharpy’s attention. It didn’t work though because Sharpy was too busy glaring at Jon. While smiling. Jon didn’t think that was possible. “Pretty sure he can do whatever he wants since he owns the place.”
“What?”
“Oh my God, you didn’t know?”
Kaner threw his head back with a sigh. “I was gonna tell you, I swear.”
“Toes,” Sharpy cut in. “Kaner is Patrick Kane. As in the Patty of Patty’s Fatties.”
“Thanks for that, Sharpy,” Kaner - or should Jon call him Patty? - groaned. “Now leave and never come back. Or I’ll tell Abby about the time you decided to eat both hot dogs instead of bringing back one for your pregnant wife.
“You wouldn’t dare!” But Sharpy grabbed his food, and with a jaunty little wave, left.
“So,” Kaner started.
“Should I call you Patty now?”
Kaner giggled a little hysterically. “God, no. That’s what my sister’s call me.”
“So, why didn't you tell me?”
“Here,” Kaner grabbed Jon’s hand. “Come with me.”
He took Jon to the back room, to a small office Jon had never seen before. Jon realized it was Kaner’s office. Because he was Patty.
What the fuck.
Once they’d both sat down, Kaner started talking. “You should know I didn’t like, purposely keep things from you. Most people know who I am before they meet me. A side effect of being featured on Diners, Drive ins, and Dives, I suppose. But then I realized you didn’t actually know who I was. And I liked that you wanted to know me because of me - not because I owned the place. Because I liked you a lot, even from the very beginning when you were trying to glare a hole through my head. And I wanted you to like me back.”
Jon realized he wasn’t angry or anything. But he could tell Kaner was nervous about his reaction to the news. And rather than make him sweat it out, Jon decided to put Kaner out of his misery.
“It’s okay, Pat,” he tried. Kaner jolted in his seat at the name. “I’m not mad.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I like you.” Jon leaned in close to Kaner, kissed him long and sweet. Just as Kaner was really getting into it, panting against his mouth, Jon pulled away. “And your fatty.”
--
The following day Patty’s Fatties debuted a new dog: The Foot Long Jon.