Work Text:
Fourth’s stomach let out a loud, miserable growl as he steered down the main road, just finishing his gym session for the day. He reached over to grab his protein shake from the passenger seat, shaking it out of habit, but it was already empty. Great. He let out a sigh, leaning back in the seat, eyes scanning the rows of food outlets lined along the traffic-heavy street.
Even from the window, he could tell, every single place was packed. Long lines, clusters of people waiting around the doors, cars double parked. The kind of chaos that immediately killed his appetite. He wasn’t in the mood to wait or to fight his way through a crowd for a bite of food. Not after sweating forty-five minutes straight in the gym.
Still, he kept driving, eyes flicking between signs and storefronts, thinking he might just settle for something quick. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted it. A fast food restaurant tucked quietly at teh corner. He almost drove right past it, but something about the place made him slow down. The lights were on, the sign was glowing red, and more importantly, the dining area looked somehow empty. No line. No crowd. Just tables. Actual breathing space.
He made a quick turn and pulled into the parking lot. To his luck, there was even an open slot right near the entrance. He parked, pulled the handbrake up, and let out a half-laugh under his breath.
“I sweat for forty-five minutes in the gym only to eat fried chicken,” he muttered, shaking his head.
He got out of the car and walked inside. The restaurant was small and quiet, the kind of place with soft overhead lights. A mellow pop song played from the speakers somewhere in the background. There were a couple of customers near the far end, but the rest of the place felt calm.
He picked an empty table near the window and slid into the seat. There was a menu booklet already waiting on the table. He smiled at that. He hated QR code menus. Physical menus felt better, more direct, like actual food was on the way.
He flipped the menu open and skimmed through the pages. Most of it was Korean-inspired dishes. Fried chicken, rice bowls. His eyes landed on a medium set of boneless chicken and a side of fried rice. That should do.
He pressed the little buzzer on the table and leaned back, watching the rain start to tap against the window outside. It was light, barely there.
He then heard footsteps approaching.
“Welcome to Bonchon. Ready to order, sir?”
Fourth nodded without looking up. “Yeah, I’ll have this... and this,” he said, tapping on the items he’d chosen.
“Got it. Would you like any sides?” the voice asked.
“No,” Fourth said, closing the book. “Just that.”
“Drinks, sir?”
Fourth blinked. “Drinks. What do you have?”
This time, he looked up.
The waiter standing in front of him had jet black hair, parted in the middle, with soft strands falling over his forehead. His skin looked impossibly smooth, and his lips, full, pink, curved just slightly when he spoke, moved in slow, deliberate rhythm. Fourth stared, lips parted just a little, his brain completely short-circuiting.
The waiter was saying something. Fourth saw his mouth move, heard the sound. But the words didn’t land.
“Sir?” the man asked again, a little louder now.
Fourth blinked fast, like shaking off a dream. “Sorry… what?”
The waiter smiled, easy and unbothered. “Drinks?”
Fourth opened his mouth and then blanked again. He had no idea what to say. Water? Juice?
The man, seemingly noticing Fourth’s struggle, offered gently, “I think soda goes well with the chicken.”
“Yeah. Soda sounds nice,” Fourth blurted, nodding a little too fast. He forced a smile, trying to act normal, while swallowing the lump that had somehow lodged itself in his throat.
The waiter smiled again, leaned forward just a bit to grab the menu booklets. That’s when Fourth noticed the name tag.
Gemini.
“I’ll get back to you shortly,” Gemini said, already walking toward the counter.
Fourth watched him go, gaze lingering as Gemini punched the order into the system. He didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t looking.
The bell over the door jingled a second later. Another customer had come in.
Fourth stayed where he was, still watching as Gemini greeted the new guest with the same soft tone and polite smile. He was professional, friendly, effortlessly composed.
Maybe Fourth was staring too long, because suddenly Gemini looked back.
Their eyes met.
Fourth’s breath caught. His face turned immediately, staring at the raindrops sliding down the window. His heart skipped a beat for no reason. A slow warmth crept up the back of his neck, rising until it curled behind his ears and settled there like a secret.
A few minutes passed, but he couldn’t bring himself to look around again. Then his order arrived.
Gemini returned, balancing the tray effortlessly. He placed the plate in front of him, followed by the chilled drink. Fourth glanced up, and there was that same easy smile again, soft and polite.
“Enjoy your food,” Gemini said, his voice smooth. Then he turned and walked off toward another table. Fourth blinked slowly, lips pressing together as he stared at the food in front of him. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet, but somehow, he already felt full of something else entirely.
//
And so it begins.
Fourth started frequenting the place, at least a few times a week. He told himself it was about convenience, about the food, about how peaceful the restaurant felt compared to the chaos outside. But the truth was pretty obvious. There were times when Fourth would push open the door, the bell above giving its usual little chime, and he’d take just one look around. His eyes would skim the tables, the counter, the space near the kitchen window and that was all it took.
If Gemini wasn’t there, he didn’t even bother staying.
Without a word, he’d turn right around and leave, the bell chiming again behind him as the door shut. Quick, quiet, like he hadn’t meant to stop by in the first place. As if the only reason he’d come all that way was for a chance to see that one waiter.
Gemini, in return, always greeted him with that same warm, familiar smile whenever he spotted him. A smile that is a little softer, a little slower to fade, like it carried a sense of recognition. Like he was genuinely glad to see him again. If there was a new dish on the menu, he would casually recommend it to Fourth before he even asked. Sometimes he’d slide over a dessert or a fancy drink with a quiet, “It’s on the house,” like it was nothing.
They never get to talk for long, but the conversations stuck anyway. Little things, small exchanges in between the order-taking and the food-arriving. Liek a shared comment about the weather.
And then, there were the touches. Barely-there, nothing deliberate. But they happened.
Every time Gemini slid a drink across the table, his fingers would graze Fourth’s. Just a light brush, like static. And when Fourth paid, whether it was handing over bills or just tapping his card on the reader, his fingertips would always find Gemini’s hand for a second too long.
Not obvious. Not dramatic. But definitely there.
One afternoon, Gemini came over with the tray balanced in one hand, setting it down neatly in front of Fourth. He placed the drink beside the plate, straightened the edge of the napkin, then gave Fourth a look paired with a small smile.
“You must really like Bonchon,” he said, voice light with a hint of teasing. “You’re here often.”
He shifted slightly, glanced at the man again, and added, “Is it really okay to have fried chicken every week?”
Fourth smiled faintly, picking up his fork. “I just need to spend a few extra minutes in the gym,” he replied, calm, casual. Then he glanced up, meeting Gemini’s eyes for just a moment. “Besides, it’s not only the chicken I’m here for.”
His voice was soft, but loud enough.
Gemini paused for half a beat, then smiled again. Not flustered. Not surprised. Just… aware. Like he heard it, but was choosing to let it settle quietly.
“Enjoy your meal,” he said instead, before turning away to tend to another table.
//
Fourth finished up his work late that evening. His body was tired, but from staring at screens too long, blinking through spreadsheets, replying to emails that never seemed to end. His head buzzed, overstimulated and underfed, and when he finally stepped out into the night air, it felt like exhaling for the first time all day.
The rain had picked up, steady and cold against the windshield as his wipers dragged back and forth in slow rhythm. He drove without thinking, letting the quiet hum of tires over wet asphalt guide him, until he found himself stopped at a red light. His eyes drifted to the right, to the now-familiar corner.
The glow inside the restaurant was still warm. Not bright but subtle. Like a small fire that hadn’t gone out yet.
Fourth looked at the clock on his dash. Almost closing.
His stomach twisted with uncertainty.
He might not be there .
It was late, and it was raining. Most people were home.
He should be home.
But he turned the wheel anyway. There was only one bike there. Still, the restaurant wasn’t completely dark yet, and that was reason enough. He stepped out of his car, tucking his jacket closer to himself as the rain tapped harder against the pavement.
The bell chimed softly as he opened the door. The restaurant was quiet, almost empty. He barely had time to take a step inside when a voice called out from somewhere behind the counter.
“So sorry, we’re about to close-”
Gemini emerged from the back just then, drying his hands on a towel, but paused mid-sentence when his eyes landed on who had walked in.
His face lit up immediately. “It’s you.”
Fourth nodded, letting out a short laugh under his breath. “Just my luck,” he said, a little breathless, water still clinging to his sleeves.
“You’re late today. I was waiting for you,” Gemini replied casually, his tone easy.
Fourth raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips tugging upward. “You were waiting for me?” he asked, the smile slowly spreading across his face.
Gemini looked at him then, before his gaze dropped for a second.Just the briefest shift in his expression, a faint falter in his posture, like he’d accidentally said something he wasn’t supposed to.
Gemini glanced around the restaurant, like he was trying to shake off whatever just passed between them. “Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, voice coming out a little higher than usual.
“Starving,” Fourth smiled, soft and easy. “But I’ll grab takeaway somewhere else,” he replied, his grin growing just a little wider as he watched the other man fumble to recover.
Gemini scratched the back of his head, hesitating just a little before saying, “Do you mind waiting a bit longer? I’m almost done closing up.” His tone was gentle, a little hint of amusement in his voice.
Fourth nodded without hesitation, smile still on his lips. “Sure.”
He made his way to the corner table near the door. It was slightly tucked away, dimly lit compared to the rest of the space, quiet in a way that made it feel a little more private. He sat down, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it aimlessly, one finger tapping lightly against the wooden table.
A few minutes passed, then Gemini came over with a drink in hand. He placed it on the table in front of Fourth and slid it toward him.
“It’s on the house,” he said with a small smile.
“Thanks,” Fourth murmured, lifting the glass. Gemini then settled into the seat next to him, and Fourth smiled wider. He turned his head slightly toward the wall to hide it, taking a slow sip to mask the way his heart had picked up a little.
Gemini leaned back, gaze forward. “Long day?” he asked, his voice softer now, low enough that it felt like the question was just for them.
Fourth hummed, nodding once. “Yeah.”
He glanced at Gemini. “You? Were you busy today?”
Gemini nodded faintly, his fingers now resting on the edge of the table, tapping lightly. “Yeah,” he said, almost under his breath.
Fourth’s eyes dropped, watching the movement of Gemini’s hands. Then he looked at his own hands resting near them, the closeness of their arms, the space between them that suddenly felt smaller than it had earlier.
Gemini must have noticed too. The tapping slowed, but neither of them pulled away.
They both fell quiet after that, just sitting there in that dim little corner, listening to the rain as it started to fall harder outside.
Fourth swallowed hard, the air suddenly thicker between them than it had been all night. Slowly, he moved his hand across the table, fingers inching closer to Gemini’s until his pinky brushed gently against the edge of his nail. He hesitated for a moment, just long enough to feel the buzz of contact, then let his palm settle fully over the man’s hand.
Gemini didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch. He just sat there, completely still, like he was letting the moment stretch without needing to fill it.
Then he turned his head, eyes meeting Fourth’s. They were softer now,, his gaze dipping for a second to glance at Fourth’s mouth. Fourth lean forward, slow and quiet, breath catching in his throat.
Gemini leaned in too, his lips brushing against the man with the gentlest pressure. It was soft, and the kiss barely lasted more than a second or two before the two pulled away.
They stared at each other, lips parted, breath caught in the quiet space between them. Neither spoke. They didn’t need to.
Fourth then slowly reached up, fingers curling at the back of Gemini’s neck, pulling him in with more purpose this time. Their mouths met again, firmer now, fuller. Gemini responded almost immediately, his hands moving up to rest on Fourth’s face, thumbs grazing his cheeks.
It was warm, easy, a little deeper, like both of them were quietly admitting something neither had said out loud.
Gemini pulled back suddenly, panting just slightly, his lips red, parted. His forehead was almost touching Fourth’s. “Your takeaway?” he asked, voice breathless.
Fourth let out a small laugh, leaned in again, close enough to taste his breath. “Yeah. You,” he whispered, before kissing him again.