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“Jannik,” Jack called across the floor, his voice carrying easily over the low hum of conversation and the clink of cutlery. “Guess who I’ve just seated in your section?”
Jannik lifted his head from where he was polishing slow, practised circles into the wood and stared at Jack with a disbelieving expression. Working at his father’s small restaurant, he had never seen anything truly remarkable happen there.
He had a fairly simple life, much to the amusement of his friends. He worked shifts at his father’s restaurant, carried plates, memorised orders, and closed up more often than not. When he wasn’t there, he watched Formula One whenever it was on, shouting at the television as if the drivers could hear him, and spent quiet nights curled up in bed with his cat purring up against his ribs in his small apartment. There was nothing extraordinary about his life, nothing dramatic, however with the way Jack was staring at him, he felt as though that might be about to change.
“I don’t know, Jack, the Pope?”
Jack rolled his eyes from where he watched as Jannik automatically laid out silverware across cream napkins with the routine of someone who had done it a thousand times before. “No, Carlos Alcaraz!”
Jannik slowed his movements as he tried to rack through his brain to remember where he had heard that name before. As he looked back at the expectant expression on Jack’s face, he meekly pressed his lips into a sheepish smile and shook his head, starting to move across the restaurant.
“I can’t believe how chronically offline you are. I swear you must live under a rock, just you and your cat.”
As Jannik moved under the warm yellow glow of the overheard lights, he called over his shoulder with a grin: “At least it’s a very cosy rock.”
Crossing the restaurant, Jannik wiped his palms discreetly against his apron and stepped out from the golden wash of light near the bar into the softer shadows of the far tables. The air smelled faintly of garlic and red wine, cut through by the sharp polish of recently cleaned wood.
At the newly seated table, a man sat slightly apart from the others, long fingers curled around the edge of a menu. Dark hair swept across his forehead as he studied it, brows drawn together in exaggerated concentration. The sleeves of his black shirt were pushed up, revealing tanned forearms dusted lightly with hair and a thin leather bracelet circling one wrist.
As he approached the table, the eyes flicked up from the menu to him and Jannik felt his breath get caught in his throat at the intense gaze of the honey-brown eyes. Mentally shaking himself out of it, Jannik pulled out his notepad and spoke to the table, making sure to not meet eyes with the unfairly-attractive man. “Hello, everybody, I’m sorry for the wait, is there anything I can get started for you?”
Jannik wrote down each order as he went around the table before reaching the man at the end. When he turned to him, he was shocked to see those eyes still fixed onto him, unblinking, with a look that held something that Jannik couldn’t quite place but didn’t stop the red flush that he was sure was sweeping across his cheeks. “And you, sir?”
The man continued to openly stare at Jannik and he felt the blush deepen across his face at the feeling of being pinned under the man’s intense gaze. Luckily, the silence was broken when he was elbowed in the ribs by the man next to him. “Eh, Carlos, are you there?”
The man snapped to the side, finally tearing his eyes off of Jannik before whipping his head back after being encouraged through waving hands from his friend. “Ah, I’m sorry, I got- I’m sorry.” Jannik felt entranced by the way the words curled around the thick accent and quickly decided it should be illegal to sound like that. He looked back up at Jannik, with a big grin on his face. “Clearly, I’m not very present, maybe I shouldn’t even be allowed to choose. What do you recommend?” Carlos snapped his menu shut and propped himself forward on his arms, forearms flexing, smiling up expectantly at Jannik.
Jannik flicked his eyes down nervously at the force of the smile on the other man’s face before looking back up. “I suppose it depends on what your eating, but the Brunello is my favourite.”
“And to eat? What is your favourite for that?” Carlos didn’t miss a beat before responding.
“Well obviously all the food here is excellent, but I suppose the one I like best is the ragu.”
“Then I’ll have that as well.” As Carlos handed over the menu, his fingers brushed against Jannik’s wrists, rough calluses sending sparks up his arm. “It is just a shame you are not on the menu.” Carlos smiled sweetly up at Jannik, acting completely oblivious to the panic he just set off in Jannik’s mind.
“Ah- I’ll get those started for you right now.” As Jannik walked away, he missed the sight of Carlos being thumped on the back of his head by his brother next to him.
—
“So, what was he like? I saw him talking to you.” Jack draped himself over the table where Jannik was stacking plates on his arms.
“Who?” Jannik quickly started moving back towards the kitchen, eager to escape the conversation before he got teased by his friend. As he opened the door, he was immediately assaulted with the barrage of shouts from the chefs and the sound of the sharp clang of metal utensils. The air was filled with the smell of fresh thyme and rosemary, so strong that Jannik could almost taste it on his tounge, and large saucepans of saffron risotto, as yellow as sunshine, bubbled on the stove.
“Oh my god, Jannik, Carlos, Carlos Alcaraz!”
“Wait, Carlos Alcaraz is here? Jannik, you didn’t say!” The chefs stopped what they were doing in the busy kitchen and piled over each other by the pass, steam billowing behind them.
“Ok, who exactly is this Carlos Alcaraz, actually?” Jannik scratched the back of his neck as the embarrassment of the past hour finally caught up to him. Looking down, he absently scuffed his shoes together. The holes on the side were maybe an indication that a new pair was due but it always seemed like there was something more important that needed to come first.
“Oh my god, Jannik, you actually live under a rock.”
“That’s what I said!” Jack yelled before Jannik cuffed him behind his head.
“He’s the world number one in tennis, Jannik,” His father didn’t look up from his place chopping vegetables. “So we need to make sure that this is good.”
“Did he say anything Jannik?”
Jannik felt his blush return at the memory of the somewhat intense Spaniard. “Only asked for recommendations, really.”
Jack laughed before jostling his side. “Did you say the most expensive thing to get the tip up?”
Jannik shrugged and stared down at the ground. “No, no, I told him the ragu because that’s my favourite. I think it is what I eat for dinner at least three times a week.”
Jannik’s father walked over through the crowd and pushed the plates with steaming food on a tray to him, colours melting together. “It is better than when it was the only thing you would eat when you were six. But now, go, go, whilst it’s still hot. Everyone else, back to work, come on now.
—
“Here is your food, I hope you enjoy it. Is there anything else I can get you?”
Carlos twirled the thin pasta around his fork and let out a dramatic moan when he tried it. Jannik did his best not to look at his mouth as he did so and absently thought he must be going to hell.
“This is incredible. But I think it tastes better because you recommended it.”
“Ah, I think it is more of the chef’s skill than mine.”
“I don’t know, I think the atmosphere helps as well. There’s lots of beautiful things to look at.” Carlos’s soft gaze didn’t move from Jannik’s face and the only way that Jannik could describe it was as besotted, as he leaned forward in his chair with his chin tilted up.
“Eh, Carlos stop flirting with this poor man.” The man next to him leaned over the table and winked at Jannik. “I’m sorry for my brother’s behaviour, he is a romantic.”
“Oh no, it’s ok!” The words spilled out of Jannik’s mouth before he had the chance to stop them. “Uh, I mean-”
Carlos straightened in his seat and his face lit up like a child at Christmas. He beamed a megawatt smile as he leaned towards Jannik. “Really? Is it really ok?”
Jannik felt the blood rush back to his face for what felt like the thousandth time and huffed out a nervous chuckle. “Well there are certainly worse things.”
Carlos’s face fell and Jannik thought he looked remarkably similar to when he once accidentally stepped on Yeti’s tail and felt his heart clench. “I do not want to make you uncomfortable. If I do, please tell me, I can stop. It is just you are beautiful so I think I tell you, no? But I am sorry.” Carlos looked down at his lap, with a small pout formed on his lips, chastised.
“No! No.” Carlos looked up, hopeful. Jannik marvelled at how he seemed to feel everything in the span of 5 minutes. “It does not make me uncomfortable, the flirting. Besides, I have it on good account that it improves the flavour.” Jannik winced at his own poor attempt but Carlos at him as looked as though he had just hung the moon. “I will leave you with your food now.”
As he walked away, he heard Carlos excited exclaim to his brother ‘Eh, Alvaro, did you hear that!’ and smiled down at the floor.
—
As Jannik dropped off the finished plates in the kitchen, his father gently grabbed his elbow and pulled him aside. “Jannik, what did they think of it, it was good?”
“Yes Papa, he said it was excellent.”
Although he tried hard to hide it, Jannik saw the way his father’s chest lifted with a sigh of relief. “Oh, that is good. I wonder if we could ask him to sign a plate or something that we could put on a wall.”
“Oh no, I don’t think he would mind at all.”
Jannik’s father fast him a suspicious glance from where he had started peeling potatoes again. “What makes you say that?”
Fumbling over his words as he thought of how he could explain the current dining situation with the world number one, Jannik replied. “No, no, nothing, only he is very friendly, very charming I suppose.”
Jannik’s father’s hands stilled from there work as he turned to stare incredulously at Jannik. “Are you telling me he is flirting with my son in my own restaurant? Is that why you were so red earlier?”
Picking at his nails, Jannik avoided eye contact and mumbled something incoherent in response, before rushing back to his tables. And if there was one he was looking forward to most, then that was neither here nor there.
—
“So no dessert tonight, just the bill?" Jannik held the receipt in a black leather folder clutched firm in his hands almost as though he didn't want to let it go.
"Ah, I do not think my coach would be very approving of dessert. Can I ask for something else though?" Carlos leaned back in his seat, looking up at Jannik.
"Well, we always try to please our customers."
"Your name? I realise I never asked."
"Jannik."
"Jannik." Carlos mouthed the name out, sounding a lot more like 'janni' with the way the Spanish accent fell around it. "Jannik. It is a very pretty name."
Jannik blinked at him, momentarily forgetting that he was, in fact, meant to be working. "Thank you," he managed, far too quietly for a passing compliment. "Here, your bill."
As he stepped away, Jannik felt his heart plummet just a little at the thought of this being over. Obviously, he knew it was all just harmless teasing and fun. A man like Carlos was probably far too busy to ever bother with anything serious, especially not with someone as ordinary as him. Jannik personally didn't even see what Carlos had got so fussed over when he looked at him, with his mop of copper curls that refused to be contained and gangly limbs that made him seem like he were on stilts. Still, later tonight when he was alone in bed with Yeti, it would be nice to imagine what maybe could've been in another life.
When Jannik returned a few minutes later, the party were standing to leave, coats being put on. Just as he was about to walk out, Carlos lingered for a moment, standing hesitantly by the door. "Goodnight, Jannik. Thank you for the dinner."
Jannik felt his heart squeeze at the thought of never seeing him again. Maybe he would have to start watching the tennis. "Goodnight Carlos, please come back anytime. I think our head chef would like your autograph."
Carlos grinned as he walked out. "That won't be the only reason why I comeback!" He yelled back to Jannik as he waved goodbye before walking out into the night.
The restaurant felt oddly quieter without him there. He moved sluggishly clearing away tables he hadn't noticed empty, the late hour leaving few diners remaining. He waited to clear away Carlos's table last, unwilling to remove the last piece of evidence that he was here. It wasn't till Jannik ducked behind the counter to sort out the receipt that he opened the little folder.
He froze.
Tucked into the folder were several bank notes, far more that what their meal had cost. It had to be at least double the actual price of the dinner, if not more. As Jannik stared at it incredulously, he carefully moved the bills out the way to look at the receipt below, where his shock only grew. Scrawled at the bottom in quick but careful handwriting: for the excellent recommendations :) along with a phone number.
Jannik felt his hear hammering in his chest as his hands trembled gripping the folder like it would suddenly disappear. From across the restaurant, Jack shouted "Well, did Romeo leave you a sonnet or what?" Peering over Jannik's shoulder, he let out a gasp of disbelief. "Forget sonnets, he left you all his gold! And a phone number, oh my god, Jannik’s in love-”
“Shut up, Jack!” Jannik pushed Jack off of him and started sorting the correct bills into the cash register, the paper crinkling underneath his dry hands. As he picked up the remaining tip and receipt copy, he couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face.
Jack noticed, of course. “That’s it,” he declared. “He’s gone. Look at that smile.”
From the doorway, his father’s voice drifted over again. “Let him smile. It is good for him.”
Jannik blinked at the unusual tenderness in his father’s face, before a more cheeky expression overtook it. “Besides, wait till Mark hears about this. He’s the one Carlos should be scared of. Now, go on, off with you.”
Jack whooped as Jannik ducked his head out of embarrassment, fingers lightly shaking as he finished counting out the till. He carefully folded the receipt before sliding it into his wallet, as the restaurant slowly quietened, lights dimming, casting a warm yellow glow into the evening.
Outside, the air was cool against his flushed cheeks when he finally left. The journey home felt remarkably ordinary for what had been such an exciting day. In his coat pocket, his wallet felt heavy, containing not just more cash than it ever had before but also the weight of the tiny scrap of paper with just a few small words.
As he unlocked the door to his little flat, Yeti complained loudly about the late hour before immediately forgiving him when Jannik scooped him into his arms. Jannik’s laughed as his soft fur tickled his chin as he deposited a kiss to his little head. On impulse after dinner, he sat on the edge of his bed and ordered a new pair of shoes before he could talk himself out of it, encouraged by the surprise income he had.
Small changes, he supposed.
Later, Yeti draped lazily across his chest as though Jannik was his bed, and not his actual one on the floor and purred like a small engine. The room was illuminated only by blue streams of light from the of the street lamps outside and every so often the roar of a truck would echo through the window. Jannik’s phone rested on the bedside table. The number had been carefully copied into it and saved into it, under a name Jannik had tested twice before settling on.
He hadn’t yet texted, exhaustion pulling him down after the adrenaline crash when he finally arrived home, tucked underneath too-short, worn bedsheets. But as sleep pulled at him, his thoughts didn’t circle between bills, early deliveries or what needed to be done next. Instead, honey-brown eyes and a hopeful smile followed him gently into the dark.
And if he fell asleep with one of his own, then nobody needed to know.