Work Text:
Yoosung wiped down the counter by the cash register despite it already being clean (because that what people are always seem to be doing in stories involving food establishments of any kind). He couldn't have been happier in this moment, even if he was doing such a mundane task. He wished it could be like this forever.
Footsteps echoed around in his ears, each step making his heart beat louder. The footsteps stoped behind him and meaty arms wrapped around his centre. Yoosung leaned into the man behind him whilst a breath fanned his ears.
"Are you fucking ready, darling?" The man (Did I mention it was Gordon Ramsay yet?) whispred. The sent of shitty chimichangas he ate in Kitchen Nightmares intoxicated his breath and made Yoosung's breath hitch.
"Yes." Yoosung replied just above a whisper.
Gordon unwrapped his arms from Yoosung and walked over to the door to put the "open" sign up. Yoosung shivered from the lack of contact from his lover and stared at him from across the room; gazing at his omelette coloured hair shining in the early sunrise.
"I can't fucking believe we're opening our own fucking coffee shop." Gordon sighed and walked back behind the counter, facing Yoosung.
"Um... I was just wondering... er... you're a professional chef, why are we opening a coffee shop?" Yoosung stuttered out.
Gordon's face went as red as a medium rare steak. "Don't you ever fucking dare question the fucking logic of this fucking fanfiction ever again! Don't even get me started on the fact that I'm a real life person and your just a fucking character from a fucking dating sim!" He shouted at Yoosung, waving his arms about like the flapping wings of a frustrated chicken.
Yoosung never understood what Gordon was talking about when he said things like that (or when he muttered things about "that fucking author who should be in Hell right now"), but he never questioned it because he got turned on like a microwave when Gordon shouted.
Heat rising all over him, Yoosung stared into Gordon's eyes; intense like a rich chocolate cake. "I-I'm sorry, love-"
His voice cut off at the sound of glass breaking. Gordon sighed at the broken glass cup at Yoosung knocked over at his feet. "YOU. FUCKING. WANKER!" He cried.
"I'm-I'm sorry." Yoosung stuttered again, dropping to his knees in front of Gordon to pick up the glass. Just then the bell above the door rang signalling someone coming in (obviously).
"Great! Our first fucking customer and you're as hard as a fucking rock cake!" Gordon yelled as the customer timidly walked in (regretting their decision to do so).
Yoosung raised his head above the counter to look at them. "Jaehee!" He waved at her enthusiastically; his purple gel pen coloured eyes lit up.
Jaehee looked suprised at how Yoosung was being so cheerful after being yelled at but shrugged it off, figuring he was just into some weird shit or something. "Um, hello Yoosung." She greeted him, trying to avoid Gordon's salty stare.
Gordon gave Yoosung a look that said he was being too happy, he responded by looking down to hide his face under his highlighter colour hair.
The chef turned to Jaehee. "What the fuck do you want, bitch?!" (A/N: Sorry Jaehee, I love you really.)
A blush dusted Yoosung's cheeks like pencil shavings (sort of) at Gordon's shouting again. He cleared up the glass as fast as a stapler.
"Well, this is supposed to be my ending with my BFF-totally-not-lesbian-lover M.C." Jaehee explained.
"Well, I'm sorry but the fucked up author of this fucked up piece of shit wanted a shitting coffee shop au!" Gordon snapped, sweating like a roasted chicken.
Yoosung couldn't take it anymore and fell to the floor, rolling around like a dropped pen. "Gordon, fill me!" He screamed like he got his finger caught in an electric sharpener.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Gordon bellowed, fed up and walked to the kitchen. Jaehee saw this as a sign and swiftly left.
Gordon came back and filled Yoosung's awaiting mouth with some kimchi. Yoosung sighed contently and passed out.
"Fucking guess we're opening tomorrow then." Gordon said and put up the "closed" sign. He waited for the author to run out of ideas so this madness can end.
...
The End