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Running a burger shack was fun. It wasn’t in the slightest what Connor had planned to do with his life. He’d had aspirations for Michelin stars and being a culinary sensation. Everything he’d done growing up was work towards the grand plan of opening his own restaurant with Nines as his maître d’. Of course, like all best laid plans, it went out the window as soon as he was in culinary school.
There was no joy in serving small portions for extortionate prices. Catering to the whims of the obscenely rich who could only complain when the tartare of their hand dived scallops was the wrong shade. It drained him, made him wish for simpler times when the most he had to worry about was getting orders out quickly and efficiently. Connor took pride in his food and knew that what he made tasted good. Even if the colour wasn’t exactly the same as the one shown on the menu. In his opinion there was no difference between a buttermilk cream and sand dollar cream but his head chef begged to differ.
What Connor did find pleasure in was watching people take the first bite of something they really craved. The closed eyed bliss that came with the explosion of flavour followed by satisfied munching. Simply the knowledge that the people who ate his food left full and happy, that’s all Connor wanted.
It wasn’t a conversation that was easy to broach, Nines had been steadily working his way up from a simple waiter in a café to something a bit more refined. In his spare time he was learning French, Spanish, German and Chinese to try and be able to keep up with the highflyers of the world. Connor’s heart broke at the idea of making all his hard work go to waste simply because he couldn’t hack the life of a chef in a distinguished restaurant.
“Thank fuck for that,” Nines had sighed when Connor finally confided in him with teary eyes.
Rather than get angry, Nines pulled out his phone and opened up a few tabs. They were all for food trucks, how to get a licence for them and where the best local places were to sell them. Connor looked over them with wide eyes as he took it all in. How Nines knew this was coming was beyond him but he was infinitely grateful.
After his final year in culinary school, Connor graduated with a wide smile. He was picked up from the ceremony by Nines in their new truck which garnered a lot on sneering looks. Connor regally waved from the open window in the back of the truck until they were all out of sight.
They made their truck work. Nines served customers while Connor was flipping burgers behind him. Their regular plot ended up being near the airport and Nines’ language skills came in more handy than either of them had ever really imagined. It wasn’t uncommon to hear him laughing with a German family before seamlessly switching to Japanese for a businessman. Which is why Connor turned around in surprise when he heard him rather coldly say: “we don’t serve your kind here.”
“Oh come on man, I just want a burger to tide me over.”
The man standing by their truck had silver hair, was a little portly and Connor couldn’t help the little gasp when he recognised who it was.
“You’re Hank Anderson.”
“Guilty,” came the reply. “Now are you going to take my money in exchange for a lousy burger or not?”
Pride flared up in Connor’s chest and his nose scrunched. Back when he’d been in the full fever of having a restaurant, he’d dreamed of having Hank Anderson come to critique his food and getting a coveted four and a half star review. Nobody ever got five stars and Connor wasn’t so deluded to think he could buck the trend, but he aimed for four and a half. Now though, he looked at the man, took in his tired eyes with dark bags under them, hair a little greasy and unkempt. It was a world away from the photos in magazine and the one attached to his regular column.
“I can deal with him,” he stepped away from the grill and took Nines’ spot with a small smile. “What would you like, Mr. Anderson?”
“Cut the crap. Just give me the greasiest, cheesiest burger with extra bacon that you can muster up.”
“It doesn’t actually cure hangovers but I’ll get right to it,” Connor nodded.
He heard Nines scoff off to the side but paid him little attention as he got out a burger patty, some bacon and a mushroom for good measure.
A couple of minutes later, he was passing over a burger heaving with filling, grease making the paper transparent.
“Would you like anything else, Mr-”
“Hank. No Mr. anything please. And a chocolate shake would be amazing with this.”
Connor turned to Nines with a pleading look which got an eye roll in return but at least Nines turned to the machine and began to violently throw the ingredients in.
“Bad day?” Hank asked.
“I could ask you the same,” Connor smiled at him.
Food and drink handed over in exchange for money, Connor watched the man walk a little further away to one of the standing tables.
“If he dares slander us in any review…”Nines growled behind him.
His eyes were narrowed in hostility at Hank and Connor swatted his arm.
“Play nice and he might even come back.”
“I really really hope not,” Nines rolled his eyes but immediately plastered on a smile when he saw someone approaching their van.
A few weeks went by and Hank was all but forgotten in the rush of work. Tired travellers clutched their orders while those excited to be on their way happily chattered while they waited. Connor was in the middle of flipping a burger when he heard Nines’ voice.
“You again?” It came out as a low hiss and Connor turned.
He could help the smile that tugged at his lips when he saw Hank leaning against the van. At least he looked much better, there were still dark circles under his eyes but his hair was cleaner, held in a small ponytail while his clothes were a little less rumpled.
“Hello again, Hank,” Connor couldn’t help but wave a little, forgetting his spatula was still in his hand. “Same as last time?”
“Please,” Hank nodded. “They’re flying me down to Texas today, I figured anything would be better than food on the plane.”
“I’m glad our livelihoods rank so highly in your revered opinion,” Nines spat and Connor shook his head.
“Look, kid,” Hank sighed, “if you’ve got a problem with me then have the guts to say it. But I highly doubt I’m the one in the way of your deluded daydreams of doing something better than working in some grubby burger van.”
Connor put his spatula to the side and shouldered past Nines to lean over the counter.
“Mr. Anderson,” his voice was cool and measured, “this may come as a shock to you but we’re happy with our van, it is what we wanted to do. I studied at the Institute of Culinary Education for three years. If I wanted to, I could be slaving away, making tiny portions of food for equally tiny minded people in an upmarket restaurant with my brother as my maître d’. But we chose this, it makes us happy. So if you wish to continue your patronage, I would strongly suggest you keep your unsavoury opinions to yourself. Now, would you like mushroom in your burger again?”
Connor smiled so sweetly as he straightened up that Hank could only gape. Under his beard, an embarrassed flush crept up his cheeks and he nodded as words eluded him.
“Wonderful,” Connor trilled and twirled away to resume with preparing the order.
Nines took up his spot by the counter with a decidedly unfriendly smirk and began tapping away on the till.
“Was there anything else you wished to insult? Sorry, I mean order.”
“A large soda as well please,” Hank at least had enough grace to look bashful though his eyes kept flickering back to Connor.
Once again, it was Connor who handed over the food and the drink and he kept an easy smile that Hank was hard pressed not to return. He took his order away rather than camp up by one of the tables though, as Connor watched him go.
“Seriously?” Nines’ disbelieving question drew his attention. “He’s the menace of the food world, insulted us and our choices and yet you make heart eyes at him?”
“He can still be hot,” Connor shrugged. “It’s like window shopping. Admire the goods but never actually buy them.”
Nines rolled his eyes and turned away. Sometimes he just didn’t understand Connor and that probably was for the best.
“Connor, you’re up,” Nines yelled three days later over the sizzling of food on the grill.
Confused, Connor turned to look and grinned when he saw Hank approach the van.
“Couldn’t keep away?”
“I didn’t trust the airport’s sandwich selection. Please could I have the usual but with extra mustard this time?”
Connor turned to make it but twisted so he could still chat over his shoulder.
“How was Texas?”
A look of pleasant surprise flitted over Hank’s face and he breathed a soft “You remembered?”
Something cracked near Nines and the other two turned to watch him twist the broken lid of a fresh bottle of mustard back on.
“And you remembered too,” Hank added dryly.
“Just ignore Nines, he’s only grumpy because I bet him you like mustard and now he owes me a new t-shirt.”
The look Nines threw Connor could have made a dandelion wither but his brother just laughed.
“Go take a walk Nines, it’s quiet, I can handle things.”
“And leave you alone with him?” Nines jabbed a thumb in Hank’s direction. “Fat chance.”
This time, when Hank was given his food, he left his change in the tip jar and took a table closer to the van.
Connor fixed Nines with a stare and it evolved into a hushed argument while they cast Hank quick glances to make sure he wasn’t watching. From Nines’ perspective, Hank was not worthy of Connor’s attention and he hated the way the man looked at Connor. There was no denying that they got off on the wrong foot and Nines hated that if they’d followed their path into having their own restaurant, it was without a doubt Hank and others like him that would have tried to destroy Connor’s happiness with nit-picking reviews. So he bore a grudge against Hank from a life they never led but he could all too easily imagine.
“Well, I like him, okay?” Connor spat. “And it’s fine, you’ll get your way because he sure as heck has better things to do than date someone like me.”
The duality of telling Connor off for putting himself down like that paired with the need to tell him Hank would probably happily bend him over the nearest surface made Nines’ eye twitch. In the end he said nothing and stormed out of the van on the walk Connor had suggested earlier.
He didn’t anticipate bumping into Hank as he made his way back towards the taxi rank.
“Nines, right?” Hank asked.
“What’s it to you?”
In an attempt to placate him, Hank held his hands up, palms facing Nines.
“Just trying to be friendly.”
“That crap might work on Connor but I don’t buy it for one second. Now I don’t control him, but you need to know that if you so much as breath wrong around him, I will not hesitate to throw a breadknife at your head.”
Hank had the audacity to laugh at that.
“I would be worried if you didn’t. But kid, you have nothing to fear. Someone like Connor wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. I’m fully aware that the media portrays a very different image to who I actually am. All Connor would be with me is disappointed.”
Nines couldn’t believe his ears. He thought Connor was bad enough, mooning over Hank. But to have Hank self-depreciatingly wave off even the idea of Connor being into him was too much. Perhaps they really were a match made in heaven.
“You’ll need a better excuse to keep coming to see him. Our burgers are good, but not that good,” he said and turned away from Hank, ready to return to work.
Over the course of the next few months, Hank became a regular. He flew all over the country to review restaurants but he remained loyal to Connor and Nines’ burger van. It became a habit that as soon as Nines saw him approach, he’d let Connor take over the front end while he busied himself with cleaning. There was a fine line between cute and infuriating that the two danced, neither quite daring to make the first move but pushing in the hopes that the other might be braver. Some days Nines was entertained by it but others, he really wanted to knock their heads together and announce “now kiss” as obnoxiously as he could.
“I’ve been thinking about doing a burger van review of the local area,” Hank said between bites as he leaned on the lip of the counter.
Opposite him, Connor was propped up with an elbow on the counter as he smiled serenely.
“That would be quite interesting. Though I there’s less of a structure to them than a restaurant. How would you rate them?”
“Well, quality of service, quality of food, speed of food delivery. The usual stuff really. Maybe even something about the surroundings, whether there’s a place to sit down to eat or if you have to stand on a street corner and juggle your food and drink,” Hank took another large bite and hummed in delight. “You really got the mustard to ketchup ratio right in this one.”
“It’s the dash of horseradish that brings all the flavours together,” Connor nodded.
“Horseradish? In a burger? That’s a little wild.”
Connor’s head dipped as he hid his blush and a hand covered his smile. It made Nines just about ready to scrunch up the newspaper he was reading when an article caught his eyes. An interview with Hank, most of it was boring routine things but the last question asked him about his favourite place to eat.
“It’s actually a burger van. I’m not going to tell you where exactly because I want to keep them to myself. But it’s run by a pair of brothers who never cease to make me smile. One’s terrifying and the other is adorable. Their burgers are the best I’ve had because they’re so obviously made with love. It shines through, how much they enjoy the job they’ve chosen and no Michelin Star can beat that.”
Nines pushed away from the over he’d been leaning against and rudely shoved the interview under Connor’s nose, a finger tapping against the last answer. A single glance at the paper and Hank was blushing furiously and he nervously tucked his hair behind his ear.
“About that,” he tried but Connor cut him off with a small smile.
“That is the sweetest thing anybody could have ever said, thank you.”
He tore the interview out from the newspaper and tacked it to the inside of the service window where nobody but he and Nines could see.
“Were you really planning on doing a burger van tour?”
Hank shuffled his feet as he hummed and hawed. Words and sentences trickled away into nothing as he glanced up at Connor with embarrassment.
“I did mention the idea to my editor?” he finally offered.
He didn’t expect Connor to let out a small laugh and lean fully over the counter.
“Stop me if I’ve misread the situation,” he grinned and tugged Hank in for a kiss.
“Connor!” Nines yelled. “Go outside for that! Think of our hygiene rating!”
With a chuckle, Connor broke away and undid his apron, which he passed to Nines on his way out.
“As it’s a lull in business, I’m taking my lunch break early.”
Nines watched as Hank offered an arm to Connor gallantly and they both burst out giggling, meandering off to one of the benches a little further down the road where they could continue to make out like teenagers.