Work Text:
You either consistently win, or you’re an abject failure. These are the words Doyoung lives by.
So when he hears that the number of Christmas day reservations for the Thai place across the street is higher than his arguably better restaurant, he takes it personally.
“Doesn't that piss you off?” Ten sports a smirk as he leans against Doyoung’s counter, chin in hand.
“It does.” Doyoung sniffs, straightening. “But I can be both pissed off and professional.”
Ten can gloat all he wants for now, Doyoung thinks to himself as his arch-nemesis saunters out the door. But Doyoung will have the last laugh. There’s still a week to go before judgement day, and Doyoung’s mental endurance embodies his restaurant’s name.
The Sacred Tortoise will come up ahead in this race, and the Curry Little Rabbit won’t know what hit its furry little behind.
🜼
With the snowstorm comes a setback in the form of delayed soymilk shipments. Doyoung’s only solace is that it affects Ten’s restaurant as much as his own.
Or so Doyoung had assumed.
“Maybe you can use prepackaged tofu, instead,” advises the devil’s incarnate in a sweater.
Doyoung swallows all of his pride and ego to reveal a cordial smile. Resourcefulness is the cornerstone to success, even if that means shaking hands with the enemy. “Or you could share your ingredients. It’s the season of giving, after all.”
“Is it, now?” Ten pauses, obviously relishing in his power as Doyoung’s patience ticks. He only breaks the silence when Doyoung opens his mouth. “Oh, why not? Yangyang, bring him a crate.”
“Thank you,” Doyoung says, relief flooding into a reflexive exhale. “I owe you one.”
“Of course you do.” Ten’s grin is as wide as a Cheshire cat and his eyes are as maddening. “Why else would I help you?”
🜼
“He’s a genius,” Doyoung murmurs as he peeks out the window. “I hate him. I hate him so much.”
Across the street, a grand display of lights adorn the Curry Little Rabbit. Handcrafted paper lanterns in the shape of forest animals are strung up across the restaurant’s perimeter, with flowers twisting and turning amongst them like vines. Above the main sign sits the crown jewel: a giant, ornate paper rabbit’s head, no doubt Ten’s craftsmanship. Its lit-up eyes wink at Doyoung.
Doyoung sticks his tongue out at it.
“Wouldn’t kill you to be nicer to him,” Jeno offers behind him, casually spinning an empty tray on a finger.
“I was kidding.”
“Doesn’t sound like you were.”
“I have an offbeat sense of humor.”
But really, Doyoung doesn’t actually hate Ten.
He just hates his cocky smile, and his mischievous eyes, and all too terribly addicting voice that echoes in Doyoung’s ears long after Ten has spoken.
The man has no respect for Doyoung’s private thoughts, and Doyoung hates that, most of all.
🜼
Doyoung knows a strong social media presence can make or break a business.
The problem is his embarrassingly weak engagement metrics. He’s tried everything: follow-for-follow, cross-advertising, he’s even asked every casual acquaintance to like his Christmas special post. It had only gained him utter disappointment.
It comes as a shock, then, when he wakes up on Christmas Eve to see nothing short of a Christmas miracle on his Instagram account.
In addition to the influx of followers, likes, and replies, sits an unread private message from the only local business he doesn’t follow back:
Sorry I reposted so late! Hope you aren’t mad at me
Doyoung scoffs. He didn’t ask for Ten’s help, so he sends:
I could never be mad at you.
He means that in a condescending tone, he really does. But when he rereads his reply, he registers that his words could be taken another way. A sinking feeling sits in, only further exacerbated by Ten’s reply:
xoxo
🜼
To ignore possibly the worst blunder he’s made in his life, Doyoung throws himself to work on D-day.
“This is so bad for the environment,” Jaemin grumbles. “Global warming’s not a joke.”
In response, Doyoung hands him another stack of pamphlets for distribution. “The world is burning because hell’s ruler lives among us.”
Jeno warily reads the pamphlet. “Will we even break even with this discount?”
Doyoung responds over-the-shoulder while walking back to the kitchen. “To win the war, we must lose some battles along the way.”
Once the coast is clear, Jeno mutters to Jaemin, “Think he’s ever gonna realize he’s in love?”
“Oh, he realizes. He just pretends we don’t.”
🜼
Doyoung wins, to his own surprise.
It'd be nice to show off. But he’s been avoiding confrontation, like a true professional. Instead, he gets the final numbers through Ten's employee.
“How long were you standing outside?” Yangyang asks incredulously when Doyoung catches the waiter closing shop.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Doyoung says through chattering teeth and looks at Yangyang's note. “Now, you sure this is the correct tally?”
“Mhmm. But you’re intense. Guess that’s why Ten likes you, huh?”
“Ex-excuse me?” Doyoung gawks. “No- That’s- Well, I’m off. Merry Christmas!”
🜼
The smell of freshly baked cookies greets Doyoung at his apartment door.
“Finally! What took you so long, babe?”
“Don’t hug me. I can’t believe you told your employees you like me.”
"Gasp. Kim Doyoung brought work home?"
"Don't change the subject."
“I’m sorry.” He laughs, not at all sorry, and Doyoung frowns. “But in all fairness, I never told them. They can just read me.”
“You should’ve kept a straight face!”
“Come on, Doyoung. What’s the harm if people know?”
“I’ll lose my edge!" Doyoung sighs, reaching out to gently wipe off a streak of flour from the man's cheek. "Work’s boring without an arch-nemesis to win over.”
“But you've already won me over.” He wraps his arms around Doyoung’s neck. “Alright babe, I’ll be your enemy out there. Just for you. Merry Christmas, Doyoung.”
And Doyoung finally melts into a smile. It's okay to lose some, he decides. Because no matter what happens, he’s won the greatest gift of all.
“Merry Christmas, Ten.”