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The French couple had been talking about that reservation for exactly eighteen days.
Not because they wanted to show off the restaurant, but because getting a table there had been nothing short of a miracle. Three months on the waiting list, a ridiculously strict dress code, and a tasting menu that cost more than some plane tickets.
Every night, Julian had watched Vivian pull up the confirmation on his phone.
“They still haven't canceled it. That usually means it's still valid,” he said, setting his phone face down on the table once again.
It was rare for them to have a night to themselves.
Just the two of them.
Without... Charles.
“Everything's in order, then.” Loki finished adjusting the cuffs of his shirt in front of the mirror.
The navy suit he had chosen was immaculate, with clean lines and an elegant cut, paired with a tie in a slightly darker shade that caught hints of blue whenever the light hit it. The color made his pale eyes stand out even more, while the silver watch on his wrist was the only accessory that broke the outfit's understated elegance.
On the other side of the room, Vivian adjusted the collar of a deep burgundy blazer, so dark it looked black under certain lights. Beneath it, he wore a shirt in the same color palette, only a shade lighter, without a tie, the top button left undone. It was a less traditional look, yet just as refined, and the contrast against his fair skin gave the red a warm, elegant presence.
Julian looked up at the mirror and smiled faintly.
“You look good.”
The midfielder stopped straightening his sleeve.
“Thanks.” He watched him for a few seconds with that calm expression that rarely changed. “... Blue suits you.”
The other man let out a quiet laugh.
“Was that a compliment?”
“I couldn't think of a more efficient way to say it.”
Loki shook his head, somewhere between amused and fond.
“...You look amazing too, Vivi.” He stepped closer, carefully smoothing out a small wrinkle on the lapel of the burgundy blazer. “Seriously... that color looks gorgeous on you.”
Vivian looked away for the briefest moment, an almost imperceptible gesture that only the striker could recognize as embarrassment.
A faint crimson slowly spread across Hugo's cheeks.
“...Thanks.” A brief silence followed before he spoke again. “Our date... three months on a waiting list, a dress code, an excessively expensive menu...”
“What about it?” Julian tilted his head.
“Objectively, I still think it's an irrational expense.”
The other man burst into laughter.
“I knew it! How rude.” He gave his hair a gentle tug.
“However, if it was important to you, then it was a reasonable investment.”
“You know, sometimes you say things in the least romantic way possible...”
“And yet it still works?”
“Yes.”
“Then the outcome is as expected.”
Julian shook his head, laughing.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply watched each other in the mirror's reflection, enjoying the unusual peace of a night planned just for the two of them.
Then a voice echoed down the hallway.
“I found one shoe, but the other one disappeared!”
Both of them turned at the exact same time.
The peace had lasted exactly seven seconds.
That was precisely why they had accepted Ryusei Shidou's offer to babysit almost immediately.
Charles had been excited all day.
“Shidou said we're having pizza!” he shouted as he ran into the room.
“After dinner,” Loki replied.
“And he's bringing video games and letting me stay up late!”
Julian sighed.
“He never promised that last part.”
“But he's gonna do it!”
“Charles.”
“What?”
“Don't argue about things that haven't happened yet.”
“What if they do?”
Vivian looked up.
“That's a valid argument.”
The striker stared at him in disbelief.
“Don't encourage him.”
“I'm not encouraging him. I merely pointed out that his hypothesis can't be ruled out.”
The blond smiled with the quiet satisfaction of someone who had just won an argument without any effort.
The dark-skinned man decided to ignore him before the conversation could escalate.
Five minutes before they were supposed to leave, the apartment was surprisingly quiet.
Hugo was making one last adjustment to the collar of his shirt in front of the mirror.
Charles was running through the hallway wearing one shoe and one sock.
Julian checked his phone out of habit.
The screen lit up.
Ryusei Shidou.
«lol can't. gotta head out. good luck.»
Loki blinked once.
Then again.
He read the message a second time, as though the words might somehow change of their own accord.
They didn't.
“No...”
Vivian turned his head slightly at the sound of his voice.
“Did something happen?”
The other Frenchman held up the phone, his expression completely blank.
“Shidou canceled.”
Chevalier came sliding across the floor in his socks.
“Is he here already?”
Neither of them answered, making him frown.
“What?”
Loki let out a long sigh, the kind that seemed to empty his lungs completely.
“He says he can't make it.”
The teenager held out a hand.
“Let me see.”
Julian handed him the phone, and the blond spent a few seconds reading the message.
“Boring. So now what?”
The redhead watched the two of them for a moment before pulling out his own phone.
“I'll look for alternatives.”
“There's no time.”
“Even so.”
“We made this reservation months ago, Vivian...” Julian said, sounding more than a little overwhelmed.
“That means it's worth trying to solve the problem.”
He didn't sound particularly optimistic.
Just logical.
“The chances of finding a babysitter at this hour are lower, but they're not zero,” he added.
“You always find such an elegant way to say there's still hope.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed, watching him intently.
“Because there is.”
He walked over until he was standing beside him and, without making a fuss, carefully smoothed out a wrinkle that didn't actually exist on the sleeve of Julian's blazer.
“If this doesn't work, we'll come up with another solution.”
The dark-skinned man rested his forehead against Vivian's shoulder for a brief moment.
“We've been looking forward to this date for weeks...”
“I know.”
He laced their fingers together for just a second.
“And it's still with you.”
That alone was enough to ease some of the frustration weighing on Julian's shoulders.
Behind them, Chevalier had already completely lost interest in the conversation.
In the end, the conclusion was inevitable.
“We'll take him with us...” Loki murmured.
Vivian slipped his phone into his pocket after the last call went unanswered.
“Statistically, it's our best option.”
His boyfriend sighed.
“It's a fine dining restaurant.”
“Yes.”
“Charles is old enough now.”
“Correct.”
“I'm sure he can behave himself for a couple of hours.”
Vivian nodded with complete seriousness.
“I agree.”
Julian took a breath before raising his voice slightly.
“Charles!”
“Yeees?”
The teenager appeared from the hallway with a soccer ball tucked under one arm.
“Did the date get canceled?”
The striker exchanged a glance with the midfielder.
“Not exactly.”
“Then?”
“You're coming with us.”
“What? No! I don't want to! I don't want to go to some old people's restaurant!”
“It's not an old people's restaurant.”
“It has a dress code! That's for old people!”
Julian rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Charles...”
Chevalier spun on his heel and bolted down the hallway.
It was pointless.
Five seconds later, he was back.
Vivian was carrying him under one arm as though he weighed no more than a backpack.
“That's cheating!”
“No,” Hugo replied with perfect calm. “You ran toward the only dead-end hallway in the apartment.”
“Still cheating!”
“It was predictable.”
Hugo set Chevalier down in front of his bedroom door and handed him a neatly pressed white shirt, along with a matching blazer and pair of dress pants laid out on the bed.
“Go get changed.”
He gently ruffled his hair.
“Tch...”
“Let me know when you're ready.”
He closed the bedroom door behind him as he stepped back into the hallway.
Silence settled over the apartment the moment Chevalier's door clicked shut.
Julian let out a long sigh.
“I've got a bad feeling about this.”
Hugo leaned one shoulder against the hallway wall.
“Why?”
“Because everything that could've gone wrong before our date... did.”
“Not everything.”
“The reservation is still valid.”
“...What if he causes a scene there?”
“Then we'll leave.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“We've been waiting three months for this night...”
The redhead stepped closer until he was standing right in front of him.
“And I'd rather lose a reservation than turn this into a bad experience for the three of us.”
Loki watched him for a few seconds. There was something reassuring about the way his partner spoke.
He wasn't trying to convince him that everything would go perfectly; he simply accepted that if a problem came up, they'd deal with it when it did.
It was a calming kind of confidence.
“Thanks.”
He took one of Vivian's hands in both of his.
“I still get to go out with you tonight.”
“I suppose it's still a date...”
“With an unexpected guest.”
Just then, the bedroom door opened again.
Charles shuffled out as though he were walking toward his own execution.
His white shirt was slightly wrinkled from how hastily he'd put it on, the small black blazer sat crooked on his shoulders, and his tie was completely backwards.
“I'm ready.”
The striker had to fight back a laugh, his lips twitching into a small smile.
“Come here.”
Patiently, he straightened the boy's shirt collar, turned his tie the right way around, and smoothed out his blazer while the blond huffed every few seconds, making sure everyone knew he still objected to the entire situation.
“Much better.”
Hugo looked him over one last time and gave an approving nod.
“Can we go now so we can come back sooner?” he complained again.
“It doesn't work like that.”
A few minutes later, the three of them left the apartment.
The teenager walked ahead of them, grumbling under his breath.
The dark-skinned man locked the front door, and the midfielder waited for his boyfriend to finish before briefly intertwining their fingers.
“Let's try to enjoy tonight.”
His partner squeezed his hand back.
“We'll try.”
And with that small dose of optimism, they headed down to the parking garage together, completely unaware of the disaster that was about to unfold.
The restaurant's lights came into view at the end of the avenue.
The building occupied an entire street corner, with enormous windows glowing beneath warm lighting and an elegant stone façade that made it look more like a luxury hotel than a restaurant.
Charles pressed his face against the window.
“That's it?!”
“That's it,” Julian confirmed with a smile.
The teenager's eyes lit up instantly.
“It's huge!”
The car came to a stop in front of the entrance.
An attendant opened the door before Julian even had a chance to get out.
Charles was the first to jump out, spinning in place as he took everything in.
“This is awesome!”
He looked up toward the upper floors.
“The ceiling's so high!”
“Charles, wait.”
“And look at those lights!”
“Charles.”
“Do you think they have a huge kitchen too?”
Before he could sprint inside, a hand firmly, but gently, caught him by the back of his little blazer.
His legs kept running for another couple of steps in midair.
Vivian held him as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world.
“Not yet.”
“I wanna look around!”
“You will.”
“But I wanna do it now!”
“For now, we'll walk in with the host.”
The maître d' greeted them with a professional smile.
“Good evening. Reservation under the name Loki?”
Julian nodded immediately, visibly excited.
The couple smiled at each other and intertwined their fingers.
As the host led them through the elegantly arranged dining room, Chevalier couldn't stop turning his head from side to side.
The oversized chandeliers.
The tastefully neutral floral arrangements.
The partially open kitchen.
The grand piano at the back of the room.
Each new sight seemed even more fascinating than the last.
Without letting go of him just yet, Vivian continued walking as calmly as ever.
Charles let out an exaggerated sigh.
“This is so unfair!”
“It's a preventive measure.”
“Same thing.”
“Not exactly.”
The host led them to a table beside one of the restaurant's enormous windows.
A single candle rested at the center, surrounded by a small arrangement of white flowers. The lighting was dim, soft piano music drifted through the room, and the murmur of the other conversations was quiet enough to make the atmosphere feel intimate.
The dark-skinned man smiled.
“It's even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmured as he took a seat beside his partner.
“I agree.”
The blond settled into the remaining chair and rested both elbows on the table.
A waiter appeared almost immediately to hand them their menus.
Charles opened his, then immediately frowned.
He turned it over and opened it again.
“...Where's the rest?”
Loki looked up.
“The rest of what?”
“The menu.”
“That is the menu.”
The teenager looked back down at the menu.
His eyes slowly drifted to the column of prices.
Then he looked up again.
“SIXTY EUROS FOR A SOUP?!”
His voice echoed across the dining room.
Several diners discreetly turned their heads.
Julian felt a piece of his soul leave his body.
“FOR THAT MUCH MONEY I COULD BUY TEN PIZZAS!”
The redhead glanced at the price.
“Nine.”
“Don't encourage him,” his partner grumbled.
“I merely corrected the math.”
“And why do they serve so little food?”
“It's fine dining.”
“And what's that supposed to mean?”
The striker opened his mouth to answer, then quietly closed it again.
Vivian answered with complete composure.
“The goal is to prioritize the dining experience over the quantity of food.”
“...What a scam.”
This time, Julian lightly kicked him under the table.
“Don't say that.”
“But it's true!”
The waiter returned with an impeccably professional smile.
“Are you ready to order?”
Loki nodded, finally ordering the tasting menu he had been looking forward to for weeks.
Hugo did the same, though he swapped out a couple of courses based on the chef's recommendation.
Finally, the waiter turned to the blond.
“And for you?”
“I'll have the biggest one.”
The waiter smiled politely.
“All of our dishes are tasting portions.”
“Then bring me two.”
“One,” Loki interrupted.
Charles turned to look at him.
“Two.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Charles.”
The teenager let out an exaggerated sigh.
“...One.”
The waiter wrote it down.
“Anything else?”
Chevalier raised a finger.
“Yes.”
The waiter waited patiently.
“Do you have ketchup?”
The silence that followed was so long Julian thought he might spontaneously combust.
“I'll... see what I can do.”
“Thanks!”
When the waiter finally walked away, the striker dropped his forehead into one hand.
“I don't think I'll ever be able to look that poor man in the eye again...”
“He handled it quite well,” Hugo commented.
“Who?”
“Charles. He only asked five questions.”
“Your standards as a father are alarmingly low...”
The midfielder was about to reply when they both noticed the unusual silence.
Loki noticed it too and looked toward Charles's chair.
Empty.
He looked at Hugo.
But Vivian was already scanning the dining room.
At the far end of the restaurant, a grand piano stood beside a small stage.
Charles was sitting in front of it.
“...No.”
𝘗𝘓𝘖𝘕𝘒.
A deep note echoed throughout the dining room.
𝘗𝘓𝘖𝘕𝘒. 𝘗𝘓𝘖𝘕𝘒. 𝘗𝘓𝘖𝘕𝘒.
The blond grinned, completely captivated.
“It's loud!”
Every conversation in the restaurant came to a halt.
The dark-skinned man closed his eyes and slowly rubbed a hand over his forehead.
“Vivian...”
“I'm going.”
The midfielder walked over to the piano with the same calmness he brought to any other problem and stopped behind the teenager.
“Having fun?”
“Yeah!”
“I'm glad.”
He lifted him by the back of his little blazer with practiced gentleness.
“The piano wasn't part of the experience.”
“But nobody was using it!”
“Now nobody is.”
He carried him back to the table while Charles continued grumbling under his breath, then gently set him back down in his chair.
“You can't play other people's instruments without permission.”
“What if I'd asked?”
“You didn't.”
For the first time since they'd arrived, he fell silent.
The striker sighed, the tension in his brow easing slightly as he closed his eyes.
“Mon amour,” Vivian murmured.
Loki opened his eyes, his expression softening.
“I'm sorry. This isn't the night I wanted to give you.” His boyfriend immediately shook his head, smiling.
“I'm still with you. That hasn't changed.” The redhead smiled too, resting his forehead against Julian's.
“The variables changed... but the important part of the plan is still here.”
“The important part?”
“You.” He whispered the word before pressing a small kiss to the corner of his lips. “I wanted to do something nice for—”
“When's the food coming?”
The blond cut him off.
The dark-skinned man slowly turned his head toward him.
“Soon.”
“How long is «soon»?”
“I don't know.”
“Five minutes?”
“Maybe.”
“Three?”
“Charles.”
“What?”
“Let them cook.”
The teenager accepted the answer with a shrug and went back to looking around the dining room.
The striker let out a resigned laugh.
Hugo slowly reached a hand across the table.
His fingers found his partner's, intertwining with them gently.
“As I was saying...”
Before he could finish, a third hand landed on top of theirs.
“Me too,” Charles declared with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.
The two adults stared at the pile of hands in complete silence.
“What?”
“Now it's a hand sandwich.”
“I like it.”
A few minutes later, the waiter returned carrying a plate far smaller than Charles had expected.
He placed it in front of him with an impeccable smile.
“Bon appétit.”
The teenager stared at the presentation for several long seconds.
A tiny piece of meat rested atop a delicate bed of purée, surrounded by perfectly placed drops of sauce.
“...That's it?”
The dark-skinned man smiled with a hint of uncertainty.
“Yes.”
“Where's the rest?”
“There is no rest.”
The blond picked up his fork warily, cut off a small bite, and brought it to his mouth.
He chewed slowly.
“...I don't like it.”
The man in the burgundy suit set his glass down on the table.
“You gave it a try. That's enough.”
Chevalier immediately turned toward the striker just as the waiter set Julian's plate in front of him.
“I want that one.”
“I haven't even tasted it yet.”
“But it looks better.”
“All right. Just one bite.”
Charles took a mouthful, and his eyes lit up.
“And?”
“It's really good!”
Five seconds later, he reached over with his fork again.
“Another one?”
“One more!”
By the time Vivian's plate arrived, the blond was already eyeing it with obvious interest.
“And yours?”
Hugo quietly slid his plate toward him.
“Just one bite.”
Charles nodded obediently.
He took a bite.
Then another.
And another.
When the two adults looked back at their plates a few minutes later, they discovered that Charles had sampled considerably more than "just one bite."
“Weren't you the one who said you weren't hungry?” Loki asked.
“I didn't like my food.”
“So you were hungry.”
“Yeah... just for your food.”
“That's an important distinction,” the long-lashed man observed.
“It definitely is...”
“Next time I'll make sure to order the same thing you guys do!”
“And what if you don't like that either?”
“Well then—”
His sleeve caught the base of a wine glass.
The three of them watched it.
The glass began to tip.
Julian reached for it.
Vivian did too.
Too late.
The crystal shattered against the floor.
The entire restaurant fell silent.
Even the pianist stopped playing.
Chevalier stared at the broken glass before slowly lifting his head.
“...Oops.”
Julian finally pushed his chair back.
“Excusez-moi.” He rose slowly. “I'm going to the restroom.”
His tone wasn't angry.
A waiter appeared almost immediately.
“Please don't worry, Monsieur. We'll take care of it.” Hugo nodded politely before turning to the blond.
“Stay here.”
“Can I move?”
“No.”
“Breathe?”
“... Yes, Charles.” The midfielder stood and headed toward the restrooms.
He opened the door quietly, lifting his gaze.
Loki was leaning over the sink.
Cold water ran over his hands as he tried to steady himself.
He heard the door open behind him.
He didn't need to turn around.
He already knew who it was.
Vivian stepped up beside him without saying a word.
For a few moments, he simply stayed there.
Keeping him company.
“I wanted this to be a nice evening,” Julian murmured.
“It still is.”
“Tch. Seriously?”
“I'm having dinner with you.” The striker lowered his eyes.
“This isn't how I imagined it.”
“It never turns out exactly the way we imagine.” He gently stroked Julian's cheek with his thumb. “You're still my favorite part of tonight.”
The dark-skinned man closed his eyes for a moment.
All the tension that had been building since Shidou's message seemed to melt away at once.
“Thank you...”
“Shall we head back?”
The striker nodded, and the two of them left the restroom together.
They walked back to their table.
Charles's chair was empty.
Again.
Both of them froze.
The midfielder immediately scanned the restaurant once more.
He wasn't at the table.
He wasn't by the piano.
“Charles!” Loki called, but there was no answer.
The two of them began walking faster and faster.
“Excuse me,” Hugo asked a waiter. “Have you seen a blond kid wearing a black blazer?”
The man shook his head.
The other Frenchman was already asking another couple.
“Sorry, did you happen to see a blond teenager go by?”
“I think he went down that hallway...”
The two of them broke into a run until they burst through a pair of swinging doors.
The noise of the kitchen engulfed them immediately.
Pans clanged against one another, steam billowed through the air, and countless aromas blended together into something surprisingly pleasant.
At the far end of the kitchen, Chevalier was standing on a small step stool in front of the pastry station.
A pastry chef was putting the finishing touches on a tiny dessert while the teenager watched every single movement with rapt attention.
“Charles!” Julian called, genuine irritation finally creeping into his voice as he hurried over. “What are you doing in here?”
The pastry chef looked up at once, while the teenager never took his eyes off the dessert.
“Oh, are you two his parents?” he asked with a smile. The only answer he received was a nod from the redhead. “He came in asking where we were hiding all the food.”
The dark-skinned man still didn't say a word.
A moment later, the pastry chef carefully placed the little dessert into an elegant cardboard box and handed it to the blond.
“Here you go, champ.”
Charles proudly lifted the small box and walked over to Hugo.
“Hah! Look!”
“Mhm. Cute.”
He gently patted the teenager's head.
“We're leaving,” Loki said at last, already heading out of the kitchen.
Vivian gave the chef a polite nod.
“Sorry for the trouble.”
“Don't worry about it,” the man replied with a smile. “He's a very curious kid.”
“We know.” He rested a hand on Charles's shoulder. “Let's go.”
To his surprise, the blond simply nodded without a word and walked beside him toward the kitchen exit.
The striker was already several steps ahead.
A few minutes later, they paid the bill.
Charles walked between them, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier, his feet dragging across the floor.
When they reached the restaurant entrance, one of the waiters opened the door for them with a warm smile.
“Have a wonderful evening...”
His gaze shifted from one adult to the other, then to the half-asleep teenager shuffling between them.
“What a lovely family.”
The three of them stood still for just a moment.
Chevalier was too tired to even seem to hear him.
Vivian smiled with quiet shyness, while Julian simply gave a small nod.
Neither of them said anything else.
But as they walked toward the car, they exchanged a brief glance.
There was pride in it.
And a quiet, unspoken resignation.
The drive home passed in a comfortable silence.
Only a few minutes after they pulled away, the teenager had completely fallen asleep.
Julian carefully settled him on his lap so he could rest more comfortably, holding him with one arm while the teenager rested his head against his chest.
Hugo, meanwhile, never took his eyes off the road.
The city lights reflected across the windshield as the car slowly made its way through the nearly empty streets.
After a long silence, he spoke.
“I'm sorry.”
“Why?”
“The date. It didn't go the way I expected.”
The dark-skinned man looked down at the boy resting on his lap for a few seconds before looking back at the redhead.
Then he smiled faintly.
“It doesn't matter.” The midfielder remained quiet.
“It does matter.”
“I suppose Charles turned a luxury restaurant into a battlefield...”
A small smile appeared on his face.
“But I still got to have dinner with you.”
Hugo's shoulders relaxed slightly against the seat.
“Then we're still owed one.”
“Oh? Are we?”
“Our next date will be at home.”
“At home?”
“In the kitchen while he sleeps.”
The striker couldn't hold back his laughter.
“Is that your grand romantic plan?”
“The chances of success increase considerably.”
“Did you calculate that?”
“Approximately.”
Loki let out a few quiet laughs.
Without taking his eyes off the road, Vivian let one hand rest on the gear shift.
Julian slowly reached out and intertwined their fingers with his.
His partner returned the gesture without looking away from the road.
The car continued forward in silence.
The date hadn't gone the way they had imagined.
They had lost the peace, the privacy, and a good portion of their dinner.
But as one of them drove and the other held a sleeping Charles in his arms, they both came to the same realization.
Maybe it hadn't been the perfect date.
But it had been a very good night.
In its own way.