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Rody swept the floor of the dining room, moving to the melody of the song resonating through his headphones. He watched as all the chefs left one by one, waving vaguely to each of them.
He piled all of the debris from the floor into the corner of the room, immediately remembering that he’d forgotten the dust pan hanging next to the back door. But that was okay! It was hardly a thirty second walk, he could manage an extra minute in the establishment. It had a nice vibe after-hours.
Opening the door to the kitchen, it made a loud ‘thunk’ as it hit something. To Rody’s horror, the door closed to reveal that he’d slammed the door into none other than his boss.
Vincent’s eyes looked feverishly angry, simmering down only a slight bit when he realized it was Rody and not a clumsy chef. Without saying a word, he pinched his nose with one hand and pointed back out the doors with the other. Rody just silently nodded, already feeling his wage lowering.
He sat down at one of the two-person tables in the middle of the room, having already removed his headphones for the inevitable reprimanding he was about to get. It was filling him with dread the more he heard shuffling around in the kitchen.
Rody kept his eyes cast down as the doors opened, footsteps soon following.
Yet, instead of being hit, he heard the familiar sound of a ceramic plate being placed on the table. The chair across from him was pulled out and Vincent sat down.
“Go on.” He gestured to the plate. “Eat it. I was going to save it, but you look like you need it.”
Rody was utterly stunned. “You want me to have your food? Seriously??” There were a lot of other people that would be interested! “What even is it?”
“Grilled hanger steak. It’s a dead plate, don’t worry about it coming out of your paycheck.” Vincent paused. “But you better enjoy every damn bite of it.” He muttered under his breath.
“And you have..?” Rody gestured to the cup Vincent was holding.
“Do your eyes not work? I think you can clearly see that this is a glass full of lemons. This is what I’m choosing for dinner.” He spoke like he was being accused of something.
Rody couldn’t help but snicker. “My eyes work just fine! It’s just.. lemons? Really?”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “Yes, Rody, really. I enjoy lemons.” His eyes flicked to the untouched plate in front of Rody, the redhead quickly picked up his fork to avoid the berating he was sure he’d get for avoiding the food any longer.
He could feel Vincent’s eyes following his every movement as he cut into the steak in front of him. It seemed good, at least. Rody was certainly just hoping that a chef with working taste buds had made it for him.
And to his surprise, it actually tasted quite good!
“Wow! You surprise me more and more, Vince. I thought you said this was steak, though? Tastes a lot more like pork.” Rody cut himself another piece, it had been a while since he’d had a good dinner.
Vincent never took his eyes off of Rody. “Don’t question the only chef in the room.” He rolled his eyes, taking a lemon slice out of his glass cup and eating it whole. “You burn cereal, I don’t think I could trust you to tell beef from pork.”
Rody nodded. “Yes, chef! Can’t argue with you there!”
“So, what’s got you so distracted?”
“Currently? The fact that you just ate a lemon skin.” Rody smiled at his own joke. Vincent didn’t, simply raising an eyebrow to insinuate he wanted the real reason. “Well, it’s nothing new.”
An audible sigh. “Are you still eating your heart out over that girl?” His eyes flicked to the plate again, Rody took it as a cue to take another bite.
“Eating my heart out? What does that even- that is not a thing people just say, Vince, you definitely just made that up!” Rody laughed, he always felt a lot better talking about anything with Vincent around.
“It is a real phrase, it just means you’re experiencing mental anguish over something and you’re letting it control your mind.” Vincent watched Rody frown. “Well, are you?”
“I don’t like putting it so cannibalistically! But, yeah, I guess I am dwelling on her a lot.” He pushed some of the food around his plate, soured by the conversation topic.
Silence washed over the conversation as Vincent didn’t respond. His picky eyes never left Rody’s person, it was unnerving in a way that he couldn’t really shake.
But he just silently had a few more bites of his food. It was starting to get cold.
“God, you’re taking forever.” Vincent closed his eyes, scoffing as he broke the silence. It had only been a few minutes.
Rody looked up from his plate, confused. He didn’t think he was taking that long! “I’m just a slow eater-”
“No, you don’t get it.” Vincent stood, Rody braced himself a bit as he was immediately worried about what had ticked his boss off.
He grabbed Rody by the collar, pulling him up. They were roughly the same height yet completely different builds, somehow Rody didn’t doubt that Vincent could throw him across the room though.
For a moment that felt like a lifetime, Vincent was still.
Then he kissed Rody.
It wasn’t love that fueled the embrace, though, it felt like something else entirely.
Hunger.
Pure insatiable hunger radiated from Vincent as his hands firmly locked onto Rody. It seemed like he hadn’t even processed what happened yet.
Yet, he found himself kissing back.
For some inexplicable reason, Rody didn’t hate this. And for all the money in his wallet, he wished he hated this and could simply tell Vincent to back off. But he just couldn’t.
Ideas of Manon melted away as he finally got the validation he’d been seeking from her all week, just from a different source.
Vincent Charbonneau.
They melted together, a tangle of feelings that didn’t explicitly feel like they were meant for each other. Perhaps both of them were deeply selfish, fulfilling their needs through an individual that should otherwise be unrelated.
Whatever this expression was on Vincent’s face was hard to describe, he looked almost drunk off of whatever adrenaline was coursing through his veins.
“You taste like lemons.” Through the seriously horrifying passion of the moment, Rody managed to crack a ridiculous joke.
“You taste like exactly what I’ve been searching for.” Vincent took a few heaving breaths, his face was red and he seemed visibly shaken up.
“Are you feeling okay, Vince? This isn’t exactly-”
Rody didn’t get to finish his sentence before being pulled into another starved yet passionate kiss. He felt Vincent’s uncharacteristically strong hand tighten against his jaw, almost as if it was a threat that he couldn’t leave. It felt like one wrong move could pop his jaw out of place.
They continued making out with each other, being broken apart only to breathe.
Vincent placed a hand flat against Rody’s chest as they both took in desperate gasps of air. He took a handful of the button up shirt. “If you weren’t the only thing I could tolerate tasting,” He started. “I’d claw my way through your torso rib by rib and eat your fragile little heart right out of your chest.” He smirked, letting out a huff. “I can feel how fast it's going, even now. Taking a bite out of your still-beating heart is everything I aspire to have.“
All Rody could manage was a slight nod.
They pushed away from each other, finally taking a moment to collect themselves and realize that they were doing a bit much.
“I.. should go. Don’t wanna be late to work tomorrow.” Rody nodded to himself as he spoke, wiping his lips with the cuff of his sleeve. He didn’t even notice Vincent had bit him in their long-winded make out session, but there was a smear of blood on the otherwise white shirt.
“If you’re late, you’re fired.” Vincent’s voice held no notable tone. Rody noticed his blood on the corner of the man’s lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rody.”
Their crazed eyes met for a moment.
Then they parted ways.