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It was reaching the end of an unusually slow evening service at the restaurant when the first letter arrived for Fadel. Slipped onto a tray, he didn’t see it until he almost threw it away in the kitchen. He looked out front, watching the group of teens whose table he’d just cleaned up. They didn’t look like assassins, with how loud and boisterous they were acting, but he could never be too sure. He picked up the envelope which was addressed to him in cursive script, slipped a finger under the flap and smoothly tore it open.
“Wow, your secret admirer’s handwriting is terrible.” snorted Bison, slowly and loudly emphasising the words as he peeked at the letter from the front counter.
He wasn’t wrong about one part of that – the writing inside was truly shocking – although Fadel thought it was naive of his brother to assume the letter was romantic in nature and not threatening. Fadel’s face contorted; he moved the paper out and squinted as he tried to decipher the hieroglyphics inside the letter, but it would be easier to crack a code without a cipher than to distinguish the letters there. After a minute of no progress on the first few words, he skipped to the bottom in case the sign off could give more of a clue on the letter’s contents.
This was written more clearly, like the writer had mustered all his energy to end this letter nicely, and the clumsily drawn kissy face with heart by the name made him involuntarily grin like a fool. Of course it was Style. He’d even left a smudge of pink by the writing, which was probably from the lip gloss he’d recently invested in.
An obnoxiously loud throat-clearing came from the front counter, followed by a knowing smirk as Fadel made eye contact with his brother. “You knew what was coming, didn’t you?” he glared, now understanding the previous “secret admirer” line was a teaser of some collusion between his lover and his brother. Bison gave him a wink before going back to the final customer with an expression that looked a little too pleased to be just a customer service smile.
Fadel pulled out his phone with a returning smile and sent Style a text.
"You could’ve sent me a message, y’know?"
Style's speedy reply: "I know"
Then: "It’s more romantic this way."
Fadel rolled his eyes at this, shooting back a quick series of texts: "...romantic"
Continuing with: "Really?"
Finally, delivering the main point: "I couldn’t even understand your writing."
Style sent another message back: "I can see you rolling your eyes from here lol"
This next message caused Fadel to look up in shock, and he made eye contact with a cheerful Style who was looking in through the window. Style looked down, typing some more and soon yet another message buzzed through on Fadel’s phone.
"Your smile earlier was cute."
Had he really been so out of it that he’d missed a very obvious Style standing at the window? The thought horrified him, and though he was an ordinary civilian now, he couldn’t shake his old vigilance in case ghosts of his past came back to haunt – or hunt. More messages buzzed through.
"Come outside and I’ll decipher my words for you."
"It’s closing time right?"
This final message made Fadel check the time – Style was right about it now being past their closing hour, so he pocketed the letter and walked out from behind the counter.
“Off on a dinner date with your darling?” smirked Bison, continuing to wind Fadel up.
Fadel loved his brother but he also seriously wanted to slap him at times. So, he laid a smack square across the back of his head and continued on his way. As he was about to leave, he turned around to the man dramatically rubbing his head and laughed at the sight. “I bet you also made plans with your own man, so don’t judge me. Close up the shop before you leave.”
He'd barely stepped outside when he was pulled into a tight hug. It was kinda hard to breathe when crushed in this embrace, but he just hugged his boyfriend back tighter and buried his face in his shoulder as best as he could. All of the exhaustion he didn’t even realise had built up over the day seemed to fall away into insignificance as he focused on the warmth of the shoulder he leaned into and the sweet smell of him. His perfume Eyes shut, he felt like he was floating in the best way possible.
When Style finally moved back, Fadel dropped his arms to circle Style’s waist, not letting him break their embrace entirely. “Don’t be so quick to move away, darling.” he whispered, pulling him a little closer and pressing a firm sniff kiss to his forehead. He then trailed feather-light pecks down to the tip of his nose. “You started this.”
“But don’t you want to know what was in that letter?” he retorted, patting Fadel’s waist before trailing his hands down to put them in his back pockets. Style continued to tease him more, getting a frustrated sigh out of Fadel with a wink and small squeeze, “You can eat all you want when we get home.”
Fadel didn’t talk but his eyes spoke volumes, quickly breaking their hug and allowing his lover to pull him by the arm to their shared home.
After what seemed like forever, they finally reached their block, staying close to each other as they speedily walked towards the lift. Style was very clingy, and he liked to rile up his boyfriend, so he leaned on Fadel a little in the lift as he used the mirror on the wall to redo his lip gloss. The exact same lip gloss he’d put on the letter.
At first, he’d considered putting a kiss right onto the paper, but then he thought that might be going a little overboard, so he settled for simply dabbing a little bit of pink on with his finger. He’d felt a little bit silly, like a schoolchild sending a perfumed letter to a crush – wait, that wasn’t such a bad idea. Thus, he abandoned any embarrassment and decided to pull out his favourite perfume too so he could fulfil his heartfelt mission – to shower his husband with love in the form of an extra special love letter.
Only, Fadel hadn’t brought his nose anywhere near the paper, and the smell of the food in the restaurant kitchen probably drowned out any fragrance the paper had retained. But that was fine! Everything was fine, Style repeated to himself like a mantra! It was just a small setback and nothing that made him disappointed or miffed – definitely not miffed. He could just make up for it somehow. Luckily, Style sprayed a good amount of perfume before he left the house, and he knew he’d gotten the desired effect when he felt Fadel relax into his hug and breathe him in like a man starved of oxygen.
Mission successful, thought Style. Now for part 2.
After he was sure he’d applied a reasonable amount, he puckered his lips, and snuck a glance at Fadel in the mirror.
Style smirked when he clocked his husband was making no secret of staring down his lips. When they walked into their flat and the door finally shut behind them, he asked, “Still interested in the contents of that letter?”
He barely got the end of that question out when Fadel pulled him in for a deep kiss that knocked the air out of his lungs, just how they both liked it.
“I don’t need a love letter to know how much you love me.” Fadel said, giving Style with an impossibly fond look that he always melted at. “How about I show you how much I love you back tonight instead of writing you a letter?”