Work Text:
Fuck that meeting, fuck Atlas, fuck the stockholders. Uuuuugh.
Yes, Hyperion might be just growing into it’s boots, but they weren’t small fries anymore, dammit. Having to put up with attitude from every sector had the CEO in quite a mood. Jack was in serious need of some comfort food. And that happened to take the form of moo goo gai pan from his favorite hole-in-the-wall Chinese food restaurant.
To make a shitty day even worse, there was a line. A long line. Wasn’t the point of non-chains to be not-busy so he could get his damn stir-fry?
So many people placing orders; some obvious regulars, others annoyingly ordering with a “hm” and an “uh” and a “well what does that have in it?”
The only thing keeping Jack from strangling the lot of them was that the lanky guy in front of him had a nice ass. A rather nice ass. Okay it was a seriously sink-your-teeth-into-it ass. Which, being in the current state he was, didn’t sound like too bad an idea.
He growled as the customer two in front of him asked if their chow mein was gluten-free. Idiot.
“…oh for pity’s sake,” he heard the younger man in front of him murmur. It made him smirk, and not just for the comment. Nice-ass lanky-guy had a nice voice too. And apparently he thought the situation with how busy the place was was just as ridiculous as Jack. Lanky-guy with nice-ass wasn’t an idiot. Cool.
The older man was going to make a comment– something snarky and witty and surely a conversation starter that would end in the guy giving him his number- when the younger man went to place his order to the red-headed freckled cashier.
Lemon chicken, among other things. Gross. How could he? Nice-ass lanky-guy with a nice voice had shit taste in Chinese food. That was a damn pity.
The younger man took his order number and Jack didn’t pay him much mind as he approached the register, thoughts occupied with moo goo gai pan and definitely not lemon chicken.
“Heeeeeeey Mister Handsome,” the cashier greeted casually, which would have usually made Jack smirk and tip the kid extra if he wasn’t so damn hungry. And in a piss-poor mood to boot.
“I need a moo goo gai pan and spring rolls stat,” Jack demanded hungrily.
The cashier took in the mood of the older man, realized it was one of those days. “To go, yeah?”
“Duh,” Jack told him, handing over the money and putting the considerable change he was given back into the tip jar. He ignored the pleased grin of the cashier as he went to take a seat, waiting for his order number to be called.
He took the chance to look for nice-ass lanky-guy with poor taste in Chinese food, and blinked a few times as he saw his face.
Hot damn he was pretty. And holy shit, blue and brown eyes that stood out more obviously than Jack’s own blue and green. Long legs that went on for days were spread out in front of him as the younger man played on his phone, and Jack looked his fill while the younger man seemed distracted. Nice hair, nice legs, nice voice, nice eyes, nice ass, disgusting taste. Well, five out of six wasn’t bad.
Maybe, Jack considered, he could let that slide. The thought of what could be done with those long long legs made a lascivious smirk fit onto his face, but before he could do anything about it, the younger man’s number was called among the ready orders, and he got up to retrieve his order and left.
“Twenty-nine. Twenty-nine. Jack!” the cashier’s voice cut through his thoughts and he hopped up to grab his order.
He handed off his ticket slip and opened the bag impatiently to inhale the deliciousness of his sole comfort food, but grimaced at what was definitely a lemony-scent. He dug around in the bag looking for his spring rolls, but they weren’t there.
“Hey! Tim! This ain’t mine,” Jack growled to the man behind the counter. The redhead came over to inspect the bag Jack was holding away from himself like it had the plague.
“Oh shit… That other man must’ve taken your bag by mistake. I… can… have Wil make you another?” he suggested at the look on Jack’s face, the very definition of hangry.
“Nope,” came a voice from behind the redhead, “That was the last lunch order for today that’s not noodles or chicken,” the cook came up behind the smaller cashier, giving Jack a somewhat mirthful look. “I have to make a run to the market for more vegetables. Can’t believe we ran out. Busy day, huh.”
Jack growled and grabbed the lemon chicken order before he was running out the door after nice-ass lanky-guy. He spotted him just as he was reversing a yellow eyesore of a car, pulling out of the parking lot without a clue of the precious cargo he was carrying.
Jack jumped on his red motorcycle, peeling out of the parking lot after the yellow car and cutting off another driver who quickly flipped him the bird.
What ultimately resulted was Jack following this ugly yellow car to a shopping center– nearly losing it once as he followed someone with apparently just as bad taste in cars, pulling up beside the person and scaring the wits out of a balding older man who definitely did not have his Chinese food.
He spotted the younger man walking into the promenade as he quickly parked his bike and jumped off after him.
He’d thought it would be easy, finding the lanky-guy with a nice ass amongst a sea of otherwise unattractive shoppers, but he kept mistaking storefront mannequins for the younger man, musing to himself how fucking ridiculous his stature was in comparison. Legs. For. Days.
It was outside a stationary store that he finally spotted the younger man, brown paper bag in one hand and phone in the other texting away. Jack was breathless by the time he came up behind him, tapping nice-ass on his nice shoulder to get his attention.
The attractive face of the younger man was pulled into something of a shocked grimace. Jack was sure he looked a right state just off his cycle, but dammit he just really wanted his fucking Chinese food and maybe jerk off and have a nap. The younger man spoke before Jack even got a chance.
“You’re the guy from the Chinese restaurant,” he said, which frankly shocked Jack.
“I…am, yeah. I mean I was there. You have my food,” he stated, mind pondering that the guy recognized him at all. Had he been sneaking looks? When? Jack hadn’t even noticed. It definitely perked his interest.
“I do?” The younger man looked at the bag in his hands. He opened it up and angled it about as he looked inside. “Shit, you’re right. I didn’t order this.”
Jack thrust the bag containing lemon chicken abomination at the younger man, and he agreeably traded with the CEO.
“Did you follow me all the way here?”
Okay, the way he said it definitely made Jack feel somewhat creepy. It was the last moo goo gai pan of the day, dammit. It was worth going to the trouble. “They gave me the wrong order,” he said lamely.
The look on the younger man’s face was actually- grateful? That threw Jack through a loop. “I-I don’t– Wow thanks. I would have had to go all the way back and my friend wouldn’t have gotten his lunch.”
“I- wait your friend? This isn’t even yours?”
“No,” he affirmed, smiling somewhat apologetically. “I work nearby the restaurant, and I owed him lunch. He goes on break in ten. I never would have made it there and back again in time. You’re a lifesaver.”
“So it’s not yours.”
“Nope.”
A smirk worked its way onto Jack’s face. Things were looking up. “How do you feel about lemon chicken?”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m more of a moo goo gai pan guy myself, actually. Vaughn’s the one with the chickeny sweet tooth.”
Jack was sure he was grinning like a maniac, but he didn’t care. He extended his hand to the younger man. “My name’s Jack.”
“Rhys.”
Rhys, huh? Okay, weird name but everything else about the guy was Nice with a capital N. The lemon chicken wasn’t even his. Oh man how quickly the day was turning around. “How’d you like to have lunch with me?” He held up his bag in offer.
Rhys grinned widely, clearly pleased. “Sure! I just gotta drop this off to my friend.”
As Jack followed the younger man, sneaking glances at his nice ass as they made small talk, the CEO wondered if he couldn’t convince Rhys to have dessert with him as well.
Damn he had a nice ass.