Chapter Text
It's another busy day at the Baratie. The kitchen is bustling and the customers are happy. A perfect day for most, except for Carne.
Carne throws another snot filled tissue at the trashcan across the room from his bunk, and he missed, horribly. He didn't expect much, he woke up with a cold and the shakes, making him practically useless for the day. Carne hears the thunderous roar of Patty as he shouts orders to those who're in the kitchen, Why did he have to be so loud!
Carne pulls a pillow across his face, with a throbbing headache. Zeff let him have the day off 'cause he didn't want snot in the food, but even though that helped, there's no worse place to be sick than the Baratie. Somethings happening every second, the noise is deafening, there's too much stuff going on at once, especially because they're down one chef. Maybe he should've worked today...
The door to his quarters were slammed open by Zeff's protégé, clearly in a rush. "Hey, Crap-ne! Patty made you some tomato soup, better eat it up!" Sanji huffed out, handing the soup over to Carne in record time. Carne let out a laugh, "Thanks, Curly brows. This is the good shit, isn't it?" Carne joked. "No, I found it in the grease trap. OF COURSE IT IS!" Sanji spat "I don't got time to chat! Way too busy! Get well soon, old bones!" Sanji rushed out the door with lightning speed. Carne sat up to get a taste of Patty's one in a million tomato soup.
Patty always talked big about his soups, from New World clam chowder to chicken noodle with noodles thicker than his thighs. Soup may be easy to make, but Patty perfected it. But working in a seafarring restaurant means that he can’t bust out his soup skills often. So any chance he can get to purée tomatoes and put them into a creamy bisque is one he’ll graciously accept.
Carne takes a sip straight from the bowl. Nobody’s around, so why should he use his manners?
The flavors hit him in waves, tomatoes being the most prominent one. The cream complemented the mix of spices Patty used, his blend a secret to the rest of the world, except for Carne. Sometimes he would let his secrets slip during their gossiping sessions, it was a pretty basic blend with a hint of paprika, but damn was it effective.
Nothing truly represented Patty more than his cooking. The tomato was bold against the cream, loud and begging for attention, just like him. Carne lets out a giggle, he really does put his heart and soul into his food, feels like I’m making out with him. Ick. A sneeze brings Carne out of his thoughts, leaving the empty bowl of soup on the nightstand. Right, he’s still sick..
The moon shines through the kitchen window as Patty clean up the day’s mess. Even though they clean up through the day, they got a new wok that needs to be seasoned. Pulling out the olive oil, Patty hears light footsteps. “Who goes there?!” He barks, hiding behind the door. “Cool your tits. It’s me, Patty cakes!” Carne sighs. Patty huffs at the nickname, watching as Carne passes him wrapped in two blankets and an ice pack on his forehead. “Looks like you got the works.” Patty commented. Carne gave him a glare, the best one he can muster while looking like a downtrodden dog. “How did you even get a cold?” Patty questioned with a rather mean tone. “How would I know! I just woke up with the chills and running a temp. It’s not like I was planning to get sick.” Carne replied combatively.
Patty lets out a laugh, going back to the task at hand before he turned in for the night. “You think you’re gonna be better by tomorrow?” he asks. “Hopefully, if I don’t get back in the kitchen, I think my brain will deflate.” Carne grunted out. Patty turns to push him out the door, “Well, then you should get your beauty sleep! We’re gonna be busier than usual tomorrow, so we’ll need more hands on desk.” Patty explained, pushing Carne out the door and out into the hallway.
”You could at least say goodnight!” Carne yells at the man behind the door. “What are we? Middle school girls?” Patty laughs, but suddenly softens. “Goodnight, Carne.” he said warmly. It’s a contrast from his usual loud and brass demeanor. Carne’s face takes on a light pink hue. “Goodnight, Patty.”