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Marc noticed the redhead as soon as he entered the restaurant and sat in the waiting area. The patron wore a dark purple button down with a skinny white tie that he couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with. Marc prayed the customer would be seated in Alya’s section so he could drool over the guy without having to worry about embarrassing himself in front of the handsome stranger.
The nice thing about working in the San Francisco restaurant and bakery was that guys, girls, both, or neither all ended up coming to Sabine’s, and Marc was privileged enough to get to serve them. But sometimes there walks in someone so stunning that Marc would find himself tripping over words or just forgetting how to speak, and this guy was already setting off the butterflies in Marc’s stomach. If he was lucky he’d just get to pine after him from afar.
It seemed that the fates, or perhaps the gods themselves, were against him Marc thought as Marinette brought the man to sit in a corner booth that was surrounded by his other tables. Marc noted his slim build and marveled at the graceful twists and ropes of the braids his long hair had been knotted into.
Marinette placed two menus on the table before wishing the diner a good evening, and now it was time for Marc to get busy.
“Too bad he isn’t here alone,” Marc mumbled to himself as he approached the table seeing the man checking his phone then setting it down. “If he were on his own, I could flirt without offending his dinner guest, but of course he’s got to be taken.”
“Good evening, sir and welcome to Sabine’s,” the greeting falling easily from Marc’s smiling face as he brought up pen and paper. “Can I get you a drink while you read over the menu or do you already know what you’d like?”
Startled turquoise eyes looked up at him and widened almost comically before the man spoke.
“Oh, um, I’ll have-” the deep baritone voice broke off as he quickly scanned the drinks menu, “-an, uh, a Foxy Boss Punch, please.”
“Excellent, sir. And for your companion?” Marc couldn’t help the note of curiosity that crept into his service voice as he nodded at the empty seat.
“Oh, I don’t know, yet,” he said as a blush started to tint the tops of his ears. “I haven’t met them before.”
“Ah,” Marc couldn’t help but lean his head toward him, “Blind date?”
He noticed another pull at the tie before receiving a nod in answer.
“Well, don’t be nervous sweetheart,” he gave the man a grin. He wasn’t sure where the bravado came from, but he stood a little straighter and tried to reassure his customer. “I’ll be here to ensure that your date goes perfectly.” He leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “Or, if your date is awful, I could also arrange a few small accidents? ” Marc’s raised eyebrows and genuine tone seemed to reassure his customer as his shoulders visibly relaxed.
A wobbly grin appeared.
“Good to know I have a friend in my corner,” was whispered back. He peered intently at his name tag. “Thanks, Marc.”
The waiter nodded. “You just give your guardian angel the signal after you’ve got to talking for a while. A thumbs up will mean all’s good and a wink will begin a string of unfortunate incidents. Okay, hon?”
A surprised laugh before those gorgeous turquoise eyes were hidden behind the menu.
“That would be really nice,” the voice behind the menu said.
Marc merely smiled once again and hurried off to give the bartender, Max, the drink order and grab glasses of ice water.
“Here you go,” he said as he put the glasses down, including a water glass for the empty seat. “Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait?”
Red braids swung back and forth as the customer shook his head.
“I’m a little too nervous to eat,” he admitted. “I haven’t been on a date for-- a long time and even though my friend swears this guy is perfect for me, I just-” he broke off. The look he turned on Marc seemed to be a mix of kicked puppy and third go round on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the fair.
“Deep breaths, sweetheart,” Marc said, not sure if he was imagining a green tinge to his customer’s face. “And if that doesn’t work, the restrooms are just around there, and to the left.” He pointed to a nearby hallway. He hesitated but the need to comfort overcame any bashfulness. He touched the man’s forearm very lightly. “You’ll be okay. If he is perfect for you, then anything that happens tonight will just be part of your ‘how we met’ story. And if he isn’t right for you, you’ll still have a story about ‘this crazy waiter I had once’, okay? In either case, you’re gonna make it out of here with something good to remember.”
He watched as the man’s breathing slowed a tiny fraction, the wobbly smile returning to his face.
“Now, I’ve got to go check on my other customers,” Marc said, his hand still resting gently on the redhead’s arm, “but I’ll be back to make sure you’re doing okay as soon as I can, alright?” He patted his arm then withdrew his hand.
“Yeah, um, thanks.”
“All part of the service you can expect here at Sabine’s,” Marc said as his service persona slid back into place.
He made a quick round of his tables ensuring that all his customers had what they needed then circled back to his new friend, water pitcher in hand.
“So, what kind of work do you do?” Marc asked him as he refilled the nearly full glasses.
“Oh I’m a graphic artist for the Austruc ad agency,” the man replied.
“Wow, really?” Marc didn’t even have to pretend to be impressed. “I’ve always wanted to be able to draw or paint, but every time I try it is a decided disaster.” That got a chuckle out of him. “How did you get into that?”
“I’ve been doodling and drawing ever since elementary school,” he replied. “In middle school I had friends asking me to draw them their favorite anime characters or superheroes. By high school I was doing well enough to actually charge for my drawings.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, which I now know I shouldn’t have been doing as I wasn’t actually the copyright owner of those characters,” he said with a grin. “It’s something I’ve been made highly aware of with my new job, anyway.”
“Ouch,” Marc winced. “How does it feel to know you’re a criminal, operating outside the law?”
That got a full laugh out of his customer and Marc reveled in the sound.
“If Marvel wants to come at me for royalties on the $2 commission of Iron Man I did seven years ago, I will gladly pay it.” He grinned up at Marc. “I’m pretty sure that they wouldn’t have felt threatened by me back then.”
“But you’re a threat now?”
The man’s grin morphed into a smirk. “I’ve certainly honed my talents much better over the years. I’ve been working on my own comic for a while now, might end up giving them a run for their money.”
Marc was about to ask about his comic when a patron at another table signaled him.
“Oh, gotta go, but I’d like to hear more about that comic next time I come around.”
The patron nodded and quickly took a sip from the mixed drink as Marc bustled away.
After another circuit of his tables, Marc returned to the redheaded artist with his order pad and pen at the ready.
“So, I know you’re waiting for your date to show up, but is there anything on the menu you have questions about? Food allergies that need to be avoided, that kind of thing.”
The man kind of stared at him, his eye brows quirked up in a question.
“My manager isn’t going to like me just standing here talking,” Marc explained. “So, uh, if you could just hold up the menu and point to things that’ll convince her that you are a legitimate customer and not just a friend waiting for me to finish my shift...” his voice trailed off.
The customer seemed to be thinking.
“Or I can get you another Foxy Punch? Maybe a different drink, it’s no problem.”
“I don’t really drink that much, just trying to get my nerves to back off a bit,” he replied as he shook his head. He then picked up his menu and pointed to the first item with a picture. “Does this have any bananas in it?” he asked with a straight face.
Marc tried not to laugh. “I can assure you, sir, that our lasagna is 100% banana free.”
“Well it’s good to hear that you keep the death fruit out of something as delicious as Tom’s lasagna,” was his deadpan reply.
Marc just grinned at his customer.
“What about the spaghetti bolognese? Does it have any kiwi fruit?”
“I’m happy to tell you that the spaghetti contains no kiwi whatsoever.” He tilted his head. “Are those foods you’re allergic to, or just don't like? I know that those do show up in a few of our desserts, like our famous fruit tart. Those are made ahead of time so it’s not like we could make one without the kiwi.”
“I’m more allergic to bananas than the kiwi," he said with a wave of his hand, “but both of them could mean a trip to the ER if I don’t know ahead of time or take my allergy meds soon enough.” A smile slowly spread across his face as he scanned the dessert portion of the menu, "Can I avoid them if I get the brownie sundae?”
Marc nodded eagerly. “Neither of those are an ingredient in our brownies or ice cream. Don’t tell Sabine this, but I think the brownie sundae beats out the fruit tart any day.”
He chuckled at that. Out of the blue his customer asked, “Do you have an extra pen?” At the waiter’s inquiring glance he added. “I told myself not to bring my sketchbook or pencils, but I feel the need to draw, or do something with my hands, while I’m waiting.”
“Um, sure,” Marc handed him the pen he was holding. “But try not to walk away with that. It’s one of my favorites.”
The customer immediately started doodling on the cocktail napkin.
“Ooo, I see why you like this one,” he looked at the brand name and nodded. “Yeah, these have a really nice flow to them. I think I have at least a dozen of them at home.”
“Well hopefully you won’t be adding to your stash,” Marc teased. “Do you need more of a canvas to work on?” he asked as he pulled a short stack of longer napkins from his apron.
“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” the man said before bowing over his sketch.
“It’s my pleasure,” he said before he had to go back to his station to retrieve another pen. Usually he had a back up on him, but another custom had already walked off with it.
On Marc’s next visit to his lonesome customer he couldn’t help but be surprised at the sheer plethora of pictures that had accrued.
“Wow, these are really good,” he said as he looked over the scattered napkins.
“Well, it is my job,” the man replied. “But thanks.”
Marc felt his face heating up. “I didn’t mean to imply that you wouldn’t be a good artist, it’s just that there are so many and they all look amazing.”
“They’re only doodles,” the redhead replied.
“No, they’re really awesome. They remind me of one of my favorite artists on DeviantArt. Are you on there?”
“Uh, yeah, I’ve had an account on there for nearly forever.”
“Well the next time you’re on check out ShyTomatoBoi. His stuff is amazing! Especially the OC’s he has of superheroes.”
For just a moment the man stared at him and then broke out into a huge grin. “You really like his work?”
“Oh yeah, I’ve finally been able to buy several prints now that I’m out of my parent’s house and can decorate with whatever I’d like.”
“Well, thank you for your patronage.”
Marc just stared at him for a moment. The redhead waggled his eyebrows.
“No. Way.” Marc continued to stare at him before he facepalmed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Please, don’t apologize,” the customer said with a laugh. “That’s the first time someone I don’t know has recommended me to, well, me. I thought it was pretty cool.”
“Oh, okay,” Marc truly wanted to crawl into the kitchen and stay in the corner for the rest of his shift. The conversation died out until the redhead spoke up.
“If you’re going to AkumaCon next month I’ll have a booth where you can see some of the stuff I haven’t put up on-line.”
“You’re going to be at AkumaCon?” Marc sighed. “I’ve been wanting to go to that since Adrien, one of the other waiters, mentioned it, but it might not be in the budget.”
The customer nodded. “I get that. The only reason I’m able to go is because two of my friends went in on the table with me, and it’s close to home so I don’t have to pay for the hotel or food.”
“Speaking of food,” Marc said as he broke out of his reverie, “I’ve got to get back to serving it.” He looked at his customer’s face. “Are you sure you don’t want to order something while you wait? You look a little…” he let the sentence trail off as the man shook his head. “Well, okay, but you promise you'll flag me down if you change your mind?”
“Yeah, I will,” he said.
Marc wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a note of happiness in the customer's voice. It gave him a small spring in his step as he hurried back to the kitchen. He was about to pick up the salads for table twelve when a hand shot out to grab his wrist.
“How are things going with Nath and Kim?” Alya demanded, the gleam in her eyes promising pain if she didn’t like the answer.
“With who and who?” Marc replied wincing at the memory of the last time Alya had pulled this trick. Waiting tables with a painful wrist for the rest of the night was not his idea of a good time.
His genuine confusion snapped Alya out of her rabid state and her hand slackened slightly. Marc was quick to escape her grip, but motioned to encourage her to be quick to explain herself.
“Nathaniel and Kim,” Alya repeated. “You know red hair, purple shirt? I saw Nathaniel walk in, but I must have missed seeing Kim somehow. How does he like Kim? Can they keep their hands to themselves? Do I have another win in my matchmaking streak?” The questions came out one after another, rapid fire.
“Um, well, Nathaniel looks like he’s about to toss his cookies and Kim hasn’t showed up yet.”
“What?” she squawked. “I purposely told Kim to be here half an hour early so he’d only be five minutes late,” she grumbled as she looked at the clock in the kitchen “Aaaaand he’s forty-five minutes late, of course .”
“Your matchmaking streak sits at zero,” Marc reminded her. “Adrien and Marinette got together only after you stopped your shenanigans to set them up. Juleka, Rose, and Kagami were already dating when you offered to “introduce” them to each other. And Mylène and Ivan have been sweethearts since preschool. Just because you were the one to ask them if they were official doesn’t mean you actually set them up successfully.” Marc narrowed his eyes at her. “Wait, if you set these two up, why are they sitting in my section?”
Alya had the decency not to look him in the face when she answered, “It was the only way Nathaniel would agree to come to Sabine’s for this date. Marinette had to promise not to seat them in my section so I wouldn’t try to help them along.”
Marc snickered at her. “Well at least he’s smart enough to want to avoid your drama. Now I have to get salads to table twelve and I know table eight is going to storm the kitchen for their cheesecake if you don’t get out there soon.”
Alya yelped as she hurried to finish wiping down the edge of the dessert plate and plonk it on the tray with the others for her table.
Marc had already delivered the salads and was picking up the bill from another table when he glanced up to see the miserable face on Nathaniel as he checked his phone yet again. He noted the small pile of shredded napkins in front of the man and resolved on a plan. He quickly pocketed his tip and headed back to the serving station next to the kitchen.
“Sabine, can you watch me pay for something?” he murmured to the owner who was checking that the display case was full.
“Certainly, Marc,” Sabine’s smile was wide and genuine. “What’re you paying for?”
“Breadsticks and marinara for table thirteen,” Marc said as he felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Alya’s set him up with someone that’s nearly an hour late and he looks like he’s gonna hurl. I figured a little bread with some salt ought to stop the acid from eating his stomach lining off while he waits.”
Sabine peeked around the screen to see the patron in question and her face lit up. She punched in a code of ‘no sale’ after putting in an order then turned to Marc.
“We are not going to let one of Marinette’s oldest friends get sick while waiting for a blind date that Alya’s schemed up,” she said firmly. “You go ahead and get back to your tables and I’ll take care of Nath.”
“Thanks Sabine,” Marc sighed, relief flowing through him as he hurried back to reset the recently vacated and bussed table. If anyone can give Nathaniel a boost of confidence it’ll be her, he thought.
He tended to his other tables while observing Sabine approach Nathaniel’s table. He watched as the man sprang up from his chair and wrapped Sabine in a hug. She chatted with him for a moment before calling for her husband, Tom, to bring some bread out to their dear friend. Nathaniel was caught up in a giant bear hug from Tom before a basket of still warm rolls was placed in front of him. Tom gave him a pat on the shoulder and hurried back to his kitchen. Marc chuckled to himself as he heard Sabine tell Nathaniel it was bad for business for him to just sit there without eating anything, and watched as the redhead dutifully took a bite of the bread. If Sabine Dupain-Cheng was good at anything, it was turning on the motherly guilt. She patted a cheek and told him she’d be back later, before bustling away to help fix a problem at the register.
Marc was pleased to see that both the bread and the hugs seemed to really ease his customer into a better head space. He was enjoying seeing the redhead smile. It was a good look on him, and if Nathaniel’s date stood him up, Marc decided to tell him how nice that smile was.
Kim finally made an entrance, at least Marc assumed it was Kim. He loudly greeted Marinette and gave her cheek kisses. He also waved at a few people and made sure to blow a kiss toward Alya whose look would have fried him to a cinder if she just had those super powers she’d always wanted.
He sashayed toward Marc’s table behind Marinette. The man had a presence that filled up the entire restaurant. He wore a red, netted crop top, black hot pants, and some strappy silver heels. Everything seemed calculated to show off his assets and fine physical form. Even the faint traces of makeup around his eyes seemed to be showing him off to his best advantage. The copious amounts of body glitter added to his presentation. He radiated confidence and oozed charm.
Marc hated him.
He could admit that this was a very pleasing specimen of the human species to look at, but his behavior toward his date was a big red flag in Marc’s opinion. Had he expected Nathaniel to wait for him all this time? Without even texting or calling him? Admittedly the man had waited, but that was a mark in Nathaniel’s favor for patience and endurance rather than any merit for Kim. And then he’s sauntering in all smiles? Nah, he should look at least a little sorry for making Nathaniel wait like that, or at least look eager to meet the man that most would have considered stood up by this time.
Still Marc hurried over to the table, he had a job to do.
“Sorry I’m a tad late, luv,” Marc heard Kim say as he sat, “but when you get that third encore you’ve got to give the people what they want, right?”
“Third encore?” Nathaniel said, his furrowed brow indicating his confusion.
“Of course, at the Miraculous Lounge I’m known as Misty Keyla Destiny, but my fans call me Destiny. I do a cabaret act with some other drag queens on Monday and Wednesday, two shows on Friday.”
“Today is Thursday,” Nathaniel said flatly.
“Tuesday and Thursdays are when Destiny does her solo dancing,” Kim replied quickly. “I’m booked through most of the week and sometimes I do weekend specials.”
“I see,” Nathaniel remarked quietly.
“Welcome to Sabine’s. Can I get you something to drink?” Marc asked grateful for once that his customer service voice was practically automatic.
“Well I have worked up a thirst ,” he leaned into the last word. “You look like a tall drink of water. How about if I get an order of you, sweet thing?” Kim said with a wink.
“ I am not on offer, sir,” Marc replied stoically. “Might I suggest a Monkey King?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s our frozen banana daiquiri, quite popular,” he ignored the chuckle from Nathaniel as he went on, “or there are several other drinks available.”
"Oh I'll take whatever you suggest," Kim replied with a grin.
"Very well, sir." He turned to Nathaniel, "And would you like another punch?"
Nathaniel shook his head. "How about a Reverser? That looked interesting," he said.
"Do you need time to look over the menu, or are you ready to order?" he asked them both.
Kim looked Marc up and down then obviously eyed Nathaniel.
"I think I'm going to need time to check out all the items," Kim replied.
Years of waiting tables kept Marc's face from showing the disgust he felt at the man's leering and suggestive tone.
"Very well gentlemen, I'll be right back with your drinks."
Marc scurried back to the bar to hand Max the drink order.
“You can’t be serious,” Nathaniel was saying to Kim when Marc returned with their drinks.
“It’s guaranteed,” Kim said with a grin. “Thank you, sweet cheeks,” he directed at Marc when his daiquiri was placed in front of him. “You ought to give it a try,” he continued their previous conversation.
Marc froze for only a second when Nathaniel caught his eye after his drink was placed.
“Thank you, angel ,” he said as he winked. The grin that splayed across his face made Marc’s heart stutter.
A tiny reply smile was all the indication Marc gave that his message had been received.
An unfortunate series of events played out at Nathaniel and Kim’s table after that; from Marc accidentally grinding too much pepper onto Kim’s plate as he was distracted by Nathaniel’s flirtatious questions to the moment he actually accidentally knocked over Kim’s water glass when he went to refill it. Marc would have to admit that this was probably the worst service he’d ever given and that was including when he was still training. He’d probably have flashbacks of Kim grabbing Nathaniel’s drawings to sop up the spilled water and staining the tablecloth as he simultaneously ruined the art. He’d been hoping to save one or two that had survived the shredding, but that was no longer an option.
Kim was looking a lot less cool and collected by the end of the date. He’d wanted to share a dessert, but was insisting on the fruit tart.
“I didn’t bring my Epipen,” Marc heard Nathaniel say as he checked up on their table, “So there’s no way I’d even try to taste the tart.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Kim said with a wave of his hand. “We can cut it in half and I’ll take the side with the kiwi on it.”
Nathaniel just frowned at him.
“Have you heard of the term cross-contact or cross-contamination?” he asked Kim. “I can’t have anything that’s touched that fruit. What’s wrong with the brownie sundae?”
“Too many carbs,” Kim said immediately. “I have to be able to fit into my costumes.”
“It’d be half a brownie and some ice cream, surely that’s not enough to make your clothes too tight?”
“We do have other dessert options,” Marc said trying to smooth things over.
“But I always get the tart when I come to Sabine’s,” the glittery man pouted.
Nathaniel sighed, “Then how about you get the tart and I’ll get something else?”
“But that’s not romantic,” Kim said. “I thought you were supposed to be this sensitive and romantic artist.”
“I am sensitive,” Nathanie snapped. “I’m sensitive to kiwi. It makes me start itching and then my throat closes up and I can’t breathe.” He gave his dining companion a hard look. “I can’t believe that my need to live is less important than your sense of esthetics.”
Kim looked positively pissed. “My esthetics are what pays the bills, sweetheart. Surely you should understand that as a fellow artist.”
“And you should understand that breathing is important, as a fellow human being,” Nathaniel responded.
Nathaniel looked at Marc. “The gentleman will have a fruit tart to go and I’d like the check please.”
Marc nodded and scurried to the back. He returned with the bill and the box as quickly as possible.
Kim stood and took the box. “Just so you know, this wasn’t the worst date I’ve ever been on, but I’d prefer it if you lost my number.”
Nathaniel took out his phone. “Blocked and deleted,” he said as his fingers flew over the screen. “Best of luck with your dancing, Destiny.”
“And you with your doodles, tomato boy,” Kim said before he left.
Nathaniel slumped down in his chair with a sigh.
“You okay?” Marc asked.
He took another deep breath and looked up at Marc. “Yeah,” he said. “That went better than I thought. And no tears were shed, so that’s a bonus.”
He reached out a tentative hand and gently patted his upper arm, “You’re sure, you’re okay?” Marc wasn’t so sure that tears were totally out of the question.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Nathaniel stood while Marc moved back a step. “It’s like you said, he’s not the one for me but at least I do get to talk about this one amazing waiter I had.” He smiled softly at Marc. “Thanks for the entertaining evening.”
Marc nodded. He didn’t have time to watch him leave as he still had other customers waiting on him, but his eyes tracked the redhead up to the front where he stopped to have a few words with Sabine and got a side hug from Marinette before stepping out the door. Marc took a deep breath and hurried back to the kitchen to let Manon know that his table was ready for bussing, and maybe take a few extra minutes to himself at the linen cart before returning to the dining room.
He had just replaced the stained tablecloth when he felt someone move up behind him. He turned to see Nathaniel a little more disheveled then when he’d left, but certainly more shamefaced.
“I, uh, did the one thing you asked me not to do,” he said as he held out an open hand to Marc. “I didn’t even realize I’d walked off with your pen. Sorry about that.”
“Oh, no. That’s okay. You could’ve kept it,” Marc was quick to say. He reached an open palm toward Nathaniel’s hand. “In fact I’d be happy for you to keep it. I’d know it’d be with someone who appreciates its unique qualities and not with some rando who just takes what he wants.”
Nathaniel’s eyes met his. Marc tried to swallow, but he’d been immobilized by the intense gaze.
“I would never want to take something of yours,” Nathaniel said seriously, “not without your heartfelt or enthusiastic consent.”
There was a moment where they just looked at each other.
“Are you sure we’re still talking about the pen?” Marc asked with a quirk of his mouth. “Because I feel like we’re not just talking about the pen any more.”
Both men broke into giggles. The charged atmosphere morphed into a companionable one.
“Maybe I’m not just talking about the pen,” Nathaniel agreed with a chuckle.
“Well,” Marc folded Nathaniel’s fingers closed over the item in question, “my pen and my heart are both yours if you’d like.”
His hands stayed wrapped around Nathaniel’s who simply stared at Marc for a moment before whispering, “That was smooth as hell .”
Marc’s face lit up red, but he smiled as he asked, “So what do you say?”
“Yes,” Nathaniel was quick to reply as he put his free hand around their still clasped hands. “Please, uh both. Both would be good.”
Marc nodded and reluctantly pulled his hands back.
“I get off in an hour. If you can wait till then we could grab that brownie dessert and go to the park a couple blocks down.”
“I can certainly find a way to pass the time,” he said as he waggled the pen through his fingers. “I’ll just have Marinette set me up in one of Alya’s tables and beg her for napkins.”
Marc laughed and shooed him toward Marinette.
As they shared their dessert on the park bench overlooking the small pond Nathaniel observed, “I think I ought to send Alya and Kim flowers.”
“Why is that?”
“Because without them we wouldn’t have met,” Nathaniel said as he grinned at him. “After all,” he cleared his throat, “It was Destiny that brought us together.”
Marc’s laugh rang out as he nudged Nathaniel’s shoulder with his own. “That was smooth as hell .”