futuristicallyspeedyparadise

[futuristicallyspeedyparadise]

I Picture You Longing For Me (Ki Tae x Lee Wan Story | Our Dating Sim)

Chapter 1: Viewfinder

Ki Tae adjusted his bag over his shoulder and eyed Sunny coolly.

She had clearly just woken up. Her dark hair was askew—though perhaps that did not differ much from the usual—and pillow marks lined her right cheek. He thought he even saw the markings of drool on the corner of her lip.

“You told me to be here at 7:00AM.”

Sunny just sighed.

“Late night. Gaming,” She said by way of explanation. "Also, didn't actually think you would get here on time."

“Why wouldn’t I be here at the time you said to be here?”

“Eddy—” she huffed, using his gaming nickname.

“There really is nothing left up to interpretation about a text saying to get here at seven in the morning,” he interrupted, crossing his arms. “Do you want me to show you what you sent?”

“Just shut up and come in,” she said resignedly and stepped aside to let him in.

He followed her into the small apartment. He did not come here often, only when Sunny graciously offered her home as a place to continue the fun after bar outings with their colleagues. Though he had often been in a mellow, alcohol-fueled haze by the time he arrived during his previous visits, Ki Tae still remembered the apartment layout.

Sunny and Ki Tae worked together at a small video game company. Given their small size, the company employees spent extraordinary amounts of time together. It was a multidisciplinary effort on everyone's parts: coders helped with character design, particularly organized members of the team stepped up to be project managers, and each member took their turn in beefing up their boss’s business acumen where it was sometimes lacking. Their boss was a good boss, passionate and friendly, but at times a bit silly.

Ki Tae and Sunny were both game programmers, so they often had to collaborate closely to get their work done. This had led to a good friendship between them, which eventually expanded outside of the workplace. Sunny was a blunt, not-exactly-nice-but-genuinely-kind person.

He made his way to the couch and gingerly sat on it.

“Tea? Coffee?” Sunny asked, turning towards the kitchen.

“No, thanks.”

He looked at his watch.

It was a Saturday morning and he had been up since the ass-crack-of-dawn for apparently no reason. He glared over at her again, and pulled out his phone to load a game.

“So when is the other guy supposed to come?” he asked, starting to press the screen navigation to move his character forward. He was currently stuck on one level and had been killed one too many times for his liking.

“He will meet us there,” she said, shrugging. She put her cup of tea down on the tiny coffee table and sat next to Ki Tae, peering at his screen.

“You’re still on that level?”

“Shut up.”

“I mean it was a bit difficult but not that difficult—”

“Shh.”

“I can help you if you—”

‘Game over’ called the tinny narrator's voice from the phone. He took a calming breath and looked over at Sunny who looked back unimpressed.

“I’ll change quickly then,” she muttered.

Today they were going to go on a hike. It had been some time since Ki Tae had gone hiking—he got most of his workouts done in the gym—but having just come off the adrenaline of launching a game, he figured he should see sunlight and enjoy nature that was not currently potted in his home or the office. Sunny had agreed that perhaps some sun would do them both some good. Judging by the paleness of her skin, he thought she was probably due for some vitamin D.

True to her word—‘but not her texts,’ Ki Tae thought grumply—Sunny changed with urgency and got them going in about fifteen minutes. They were driving up to a mountain not too far of a drive from Seoul’s city center to do a trail there. At first, it was just going to be the two of them, but Sunny had asked just last night if she could invite a friend. Ki Tae had sleepily agreed, not caring. The text had come in super late anyway.

“So…you have friends outside of work,” he stated dubiously.

“Yes,” Sunny hissed, scowling as she tried hard not to take her eyes off the road and smack him. “I met him at an art show.”

“Since when do you go to art shows?”

“I don’t just help with character design for the heck of it. I actually do like art.”

Ki Tae put his hands up in mock surrender. “OK, just asking! So…they’re an artist?”

“Yeah, they do mostly graphic design. He did some artwork for a few manhwas. That’s what the show was about.”

Ki Tae nodded, not having much to add. He wasn’t particularly big on art, and the only person he had known in his life that had allowed him to peek into the art world wasn’t around anymore. He shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat. He didn’t like to think about that person very much.

Sunny smoothly pulled into a parking spot. She turned off the car, and reached back to get some of the things she had dropped onto the backseat. Ki Tae opened his door, stepping out into the cool autumn air, feet crunching the gravel beneath them. Not many cars were parked, and he hoped that the trail would be relatively empty. It would be nice to just enjoy nature without having to deal with the general public.

The sound of the car locking, brought Ki Tae’s attention back to Sunny. She jerked her head towards the parking lot exit which led to the road where they would find the trailhead. As they walked she busily put up her dark hair into a very messy bun.

“He said he would meet us at the trailhead.”

Ki Tae followed her as he looked up at the mountain they were about to climb. Colorful trees dotted rock: greens, fiery reds, and oranges. The sun was already above the horizon, having peeked over the hour before, casting its warm light across the scenery. A light fog hovered on the peaks, shrouding the mountain in strokes of mist.

“Lee Wan,” he heard from Sunny distantly. She raised her hand to capture the attention of a man who was waiting by the signage announcing the trailhead.

Ki Tae's head swam.

Lee Wan.

He faltered in his step and looked up at the man Sunny was waving towards.

Lee Wan.

The first thing he saw were deep brown eyes that shone honey when caught in the rays of the sun. Then came the full lips and handsome face.

Lee Wan.

The name reverberated in his head as if it was in an echo chamber.

It was him after all this time.

“Hey,” Lee Wan said, smiling as he walked up to Sunny. “How are you today?”

“Peachy. Lee Wan, this is Ki Tae,” she said, quickly introducing him.

He had come back into his life just as swiftly and suddenly as he had left.

Ki Tae would have appreciated a bit of warning. As such his breath seemed to have completely vacated his chest, and a dull ache seemed to have taken its place instead. It was difficult to know how to react to someone who you had lost contact with but was such an integral part of one of the most defining moments of your life.

His senses were in spasm. A roaring filled his ears, his mouth dried out, and his vision was blurry. He felt his hands start to tremble as he took in the man before him. A breeze wafted and he smelled just the same, just the same as before—

Ki Tae snapped out of it.

“Hello,” he said, reaching out for a handshake.

He wasn’t going to let on that he recognized Lee Wan. It would be best to see how Lee Wan reacted. Did he recognize him in return? Did he even want to be recognized? Or was Ki Tae just something of the past for him, something that has not warranted a second thought in years.

Lee Wan’s eyes grew wide when they landed on him, the recognition flashing clear in his eyes.

“H-Hello,” Lee Wan stuttered, shyly shaking his hand. His hand was clammy, and his expression had shifted rapidly from pleasant interest to, shock, and settled on apparent nervousness. He remained silent after that, giving no acknowledgement of their past.

His timidness empowered Ki Tae. The memory of Lee Wan had held so much power over him for several years; he was proud to be able to stare at him in the eye unflinchingly.

“Shall we get started?” Ki Tae said, dropping Lee Wan’s hand and nodding towards the trailhead. They began to walk. Leaves and twigs crunched underneath their feet and the birds called to each other in the trees. The air maintained crisp, cooling them as they began their ascent. Autumn hiking was always a treat to the senses.

Ki Tae led, clearly the fittest of the pack. Sometimes he would scout ahead and enjoy some of the view while he waited for the other two to catch up.

“How was your last interview?” Sunny asked Lee Wan at one point as they rested on a boulder that jutted out enough to catch a glimpse of Seoul.

Lee Wan sighed, “It was OK, but I think they will probably go with someone else.”

“What do you do?” Ki Tae asked reluctantly.

Ki Tae had gone on to pursue his passion of video games by becoming a coder, but he had been deprived of the chance to see what Lee Wan had made of himself. When younger, Lee Wan had been bookish, smart, with a love and passion for art, particularly photography. He had definitely been more introverted than Ki Tae had ever been, which honestly had intrigued him more so. Ki Tae had enjoyed spending time with him despite the quiet, each doing their own thing, but still appreciating each other’s company. It had been calming to him then, allowing the energy that often flowed through him to settle into a soft hum. 

“I-I do graphic design…illustration for manhwa writers mostly. I also have my own illustration blog. If work is low, then I have restaurant experience. It is not much…”

“Don’t say that,” Sunny chided. “He’s really good. I read the manhwa he illustrated and honestly the art was really special. Plus his blog is getting a good following too!”

“Thank you,” Lee Wan said, a blush high in his cheeks. Ki Tae hated how he reacted favorably to the red tint.

“I see,” Ki Tae murmured. No photography had been mentioned.

“As I said,” Lee Wan said, misinterpreting his response for dismissiveness, “Not much.”

Ki Tae shrugged. “Art is important. I work in video game programming, but there is no game without art.”

“I assume AI will probably replace us all in a couple of years,” Lee Wan said cheekily.

“AI is soulless. No machine can replace human creativity.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Lee Wan agreed, raising his water bottle in Ki Tae’s direction, before taking a couple of gulps.

He had been struggling to get up the mountain. Ki Tae could hear his heavy intakes of breath from his position at the front as they hiked. It seemed that Lee Wan did not hike often–he pondered on why he would come today, especially to this hike which was deemed to be not exactly for beginners.

“So, what will you do?” Sunny asked Lee Wan, bringing the conversation back around.

“Well I still have some savings, so that should be OK in terms of covering the living arrangements for a bit. In terms of a job, I will keep on trying. I hope something will come up soon.”

“Are you trying to stay in Seoul?”

“Yes,” he said, eyes briefly flicking to Ki Tae. “I’d like to stay if possible.”

They climbed on, up towards the top where the morning mist hovered below them. Ki Tae tried to slow down, but Lee Wan was particularly slow. He had also run out of water, causing Ki Tae to share his extra bottle.

“Have you never hiked before?” He asked Lee Wan discourteously.

He knew had been rude when Sunny stopped and stared at him.

Lee Wan bit his lip. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized it would be this difficult—”

It was hard not to grow more frustrated with Lee Wan the further the day went on.

With each step, he thought more and more about the last day they had seen eachother.

Lee Wan had kissed him for God's sake.

Kissed him, professed to liking him, and then promptly left him alone on the rooftop of their school. When he had recovered enough from the confession to respond, Lee Wan had already left the rooftop. Ki Tae had searched for him everywhere but didn’t find him. He had ran around for so long and could not find him. He could not find him and when he had realized that he would not find him, he broke.

His devastation had lasted months. Friends had pitied him, his family had worried for him, and he had slipped into a depression that had been so difficult to grow to manage. Perhaps it was unfair to blame Lee Wan for all of the ache, but since when had Ki Tae ever been rational when it came to the man?

“—I am not a particularly active person, so I probably should’ve figured. You can go ahead at your pace, and I will eventually catch up. Don’t feel the need to wait.”

“We are in no rush,” Sunny assured, shooting another stern look at Ki Tae, effectively chastising him. Ki Tae swallowed what he wanted to say and just pushed on.

When they reached the summit, Ki Tae took a couple of pictures, enjoying the look that the morning light cast upon the landscape. He noted that Lee Wan didn’t take any pictures of his own, but had brought out a notebook to draw some sketches.

Sunny pulled him aside.

“What’s up with you?” she asked bluntly.

“Nothing,” Ki Tae replied, stuffing his phone in his pocket. He moved to sit on the mountain edge, so that his feet could dangle off the rock and over the scenery below.

Sunny practically rolled her eyes, but decided not to push which he was relieved by.

The walk down had been relatively painless. Lee Wan seemed to be able to handle the descent much better than the ascent. While he and Sunny talked, Ki Tae kept quiet, just listening to all the life Lee Wan had lived without him.

The departure was a blur, Ki Tae barely remembered acknowledging Lee Wan’s goodbye. He sat quietly as Sunny did him the favor of driving him home. He had also bid her good day distractingly, itching to just be alone in his home so that he could breathe easier.

Much later he found himself on the couch, thinking. Part of him hoped that it would be the last time he saw Lee Wan. The other part, the treacherous one that had existed and longed for much longer, ached to see him again.

-----------

I will continue posting updates to the story on Ao3.

[futuristicallyspeedyparadise]

Waiting For You (Jack x Zhao Zi Story) Chapter 1

“Zhao Zi, if you stare any harder at the door, it will burst into flames.”

Zhao Zi lurched back into reality, ripping his eyes away from the kitchen door to look at Yi Qi’s brown eyes glittering in amusement.

“Why are you so insistent on knowing the new chef? Given our experience with the last few, I would’ve thought you would want to steer clear of that kind of demented folk.”

Perhaps it had just been bad luck, but the restaurant’s endless parade of chefs had resulted in slight trepidation amongst the waitstaff about who the newcomer would be. The chef before this one had the habit of throwing literal knives when someone or something pissed him off. The one before that had emotional breakdowns every once in a while and would lock themselves up in the walk-in freezer for half an hour. And not to mention the one who used the kitchen pantry as his own personal food supply. He would “shop” for items, often the expensive stuff like truffles and Wagyu beef, and take them home to host parties; when being ousted he remained adamant that he hadn’t been stealing.

Each of the previous chefs had cooked spectacularly, but their inability to handle the pressure--or their literal thievery--had made the restaurant owner Tang Yi fire them without hesitation.

Zhao Zi turned fully towards the table again and tucked into his French onion soup. The restaurant’s kitchen was massive, filled with different food stations and prep tables galore. In the corner away from the action, was an area where wait staff could grab food or take their scheduled break. One of the perks of working at the restaurant was that they would occasionally receive free meals. Zhao Zi, a self-identified foodie, could not have been any happier with that particular perk. Sometimes he was able to eat dishes that people had to pay hundreds to eat, for free.

“I’m just curious as to who the new chef is going to be. I mean, c’mon Yi Qi. You know we’ve had quite a string of bad luck.”

“Well...you don’t have to tell me that,” Yi Qi muttered, rubbing her wrist distractedly. Her wrist had been the unfortunate receiver of the last knife that had been thrown by the previous chef. She had not been the intended target, but some things could not be forgiven. When Tang Yi, the owner, heard the news, he had dismissed the chef on the spot and assured Yi Qi that any medical expenses would be paid. Yi Qi had worn a protective band on her wrist for a month and now had a shiny scar to show for it.

“I wonder what their specialty is? I don’t know how we stay afloat. Our menu changes every time a new chef parades through this door!”

“I think that has become the novelty of it. Everytime we fire a chef and the media gets a hold of it, they start conducting polls on what our next specialty food will be.”

“I mean you can’t fault Tang Yi. Whether they are crazy or not, he does find the top people in the culinary field,” Yi Qi agreed.

Tang Yi, their boss, was a no-nonsense restaurant owner. He came out of nowhere a few years before and opened this restaurant, somehow managing to curate the top talent in the field. People wondered how a nobody could convince top chefs, sous-chefs, maître d’s and sommeliers to abandon their posts and come join his restaurant; given Tang Yi’s dubious past—it was rumored he had been affiliated with the gang activity—many figured it had been blackmail.

Despite that, or perhaps because of all the mystery, Trapped surged to the top of every national restaurant list and garnered many recognitions and awards. It’s ever changing and experimental menu, mostly due to the revolving door of chefs, kept it fresh. Though the food changed, the quality certainly did not slip. Zhao Zi had to interview extensively to be a waiter at the restaurant. It was a position that many people in the service industry, from long-time waiters to culinary students, vied for because it included great pay and benefits as well as the chance to work for the culinary greats.

Zhao Zi sighed. He loved working here at the restaurant. Despite the occasional uppity customer who felt they were too rich to have decent manners, he enjoyed the clientele and enjoyed ensuring that they had a great experience. Plus the staff at the restaurant was like family, something that was nice to have given that he had no actual family.

He had lost his parents when he was very young and had grown up with his grandmother. His grandmother, a small but feisty woman, always made sure that he was well taken care of. She put him through school, and encouraged his love for food blogging and consumption. He missed his grandmother’s cooking the most. She made the most wonderful feasts, plates full of steaming, richly flavored food that warmed his stomach and soul.

Stricken with a bout of pneumonia, she passed away a couple of years ago in her sleep.

The door to the kitchen creaked open, and Zhao Zi’s head whipped around to see who had come in. He groaned when he realized it was just Jun Wei, another waiter.

The kitchen staff knew the identity of the new chef; they had had some closed-kitchen training with them to work out the new menu and how the kitchen would be run under their direction. However, it was a tradition for the kitchen staff to not reveal the identity of the new chef to the waitstaff, and legally mandatory for them not to leak information to the press. Tang Yi had made them sign non-disclosures even before the parade of chefs began. Though they had a legal obligation not to, the staff knew that helping drive the media into a speculation frenzy helped garner the restaurant free publicity and more clients which meant a prosperous business. They also just loved to take part in the fun.

“So, sorry to disappoint,” Jun Wei said sarcastically as he made his way over to Zhao Zi and Yi Qi. The waiters at Trapped all wore black button down shirts, black slacks and a black vest. Jun Wei was tall, with an athletic build and wore his uniform well. When he drew close, he reached out to ruffle Zhao Zi’s hair.

“Stop it!” Zhao Zi cried, fending him off. “You know the boss will kill me if he sees my hair like this,” He dropped his spoon, reaching up to pat down his hair. Jun Wei laughed and took up the seat next to Yi Qi. A line-cook came by and dropped off a bowl of soup in front of him; Jun Wei thanked them gratefully.

The cooks in the kitchen and the waitstaff had a mutual respect for each other. They understood that they needed to work cohesively in order to run the restaurant well. Their boss wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Has the dining room been set yet or do they need help?” Zhao Zi asked Jun Wei. He finished off his soup bringing over the bowl to the sink for cleaning.

“I think you might want to go out there and help out a bit. Hong Ye looks a bit...peeved.”

Hong Ye was the restaurant’s maître d. She was a formidable character, strong in personality and with very high standards. She was Tang Yi’s sister and together they ran the restaurant like a pair of benevolent dictators.

Zhao Zi nodded, already heading towards the door. As he was about to push out the doors, someone pushed them in and Zhao Zi jumped back to avoid being hit. The person who walked through the door was...different. He had red wine-colored hair, a black leather jacket and boots to match. He was tall and lithe. His face was nothing short of elegant, a beautifully carved Adonis with a smirk.

“I am so sorry, sir!” he squeaked.

The man’s smirk grew wider.  “No need to apologize.”

“How can I help you, sir?” Zhao Zi asked, with a slight bow. It was a habit to address all clientele as ‘sir’ and ‘madam’ or ‘miss.’ He figured that having gotten past Hong Ye, this person was surely some kind of business partner on his way to chat with Tang Yi. He wasn’t dressed like a businessman, but Tang Yi’s visitors were rarely corporate looking characters.  They were often older gangster looking types, or young ones who came with their chests puffed out looking for Tang Yi and referring to him as “boss.” This one however, with his green leather jacket, simple white t-shirt and motorcycle helmet in hand was definitely one of the more interesting ones.

“Do you call everyone, sir, or is that one particularly reserved for me, shorty?” The redhead asked, smirk still in place.

Zhao Zi blushed. Sure he was practically a head shorter than the man who was standing unbearably close, but it hadn’t been necessary to point it out.

“I...uh—”

“You can follow me,” came a deep voice from behind him.

Zhao Zi turned, hearing Tang Yi’s voice. Tang Yi wore a soft gray cashmere shirt and black slacks, a rich man’s simple daytime outfit. Tang Yi turned and walked back towards his office, clearly expecting the newcomer to follow him.

“Sure thing, boss.” The man said, moving around Zhao Zi to follow Tang Yi. They went into Tang Yi’s back office, which Zhao Zi had only been to once, during his interview. It was a beautiful room, decorated in splendorous dark woods and emerald accents. It was truly a gentlemen’s den. Zhao Zi let out a breath and pushed through the doors to the dining room to see how he could help.

---

Hong Ye wasn’t necessarily mean when she told someone off, but rather she was incisive. She chose her words carefully, ensuring that each word held its own weight and cut the person to their core.

She gazed about the dining room in disgust.

“So far we have fallen in our standards it would seem,” she said in an emotionless, measured tone. “Dust on the wine bottles, crumbs on the floor. Wine glasses on the wrong side of the table. Did you think I would not notice?”

She gazed at the staff. A beautiful woman standing at just over five feet, her stature did not stop her from seemingly towering over anyone. She wore a white billowy shirt, with draped arms and simple black pants.

“If you think for a second I would not fire all of you in a heartbeat then I’ve clearly haven’t made myself clear enough. Perhaps I have been too soft.”

The dining room was in a state of slight disarray. They had just changed the decor and some of the details were still being worked out. Zhao Zi liked the new look. Just like their food, the restaurant underwent certain changes to match the style of the new chef.

Looking around Zhao Zi was able to learn a little bit about the chef who would soon join them. Whereas before the restaurant had adopted the sophisticated golds and burnt oranges that matched their emphasis on Thai food, now the room was decorated in swathes of red with accents of greens, yellows and blues. The room took on a more intimate and private feel with dimmer lighting; it invited introspection and commiseration. Zhao Zi was reminded of the temples he and his grandmother would visit while growing up.

Perhaps the new chef had an affinity for traditional Taiwanese culture? Zhao Zi couldn’t help but feel a slight disappointment. It didn’t seem like they would be getting any exotic foods with this new chef.

Hong Ye disrupted his thoughts by barking out a list of orders and so they spent the rest of the day fixing up the dining room, rearranging again and again the furniture and decor in order to satisfy Hong Ye’s vision. The restaurant was closed to the public this week in order to prepare for the debut of the new chef, so they worked until Hong Ye was satisfied.

Sometime later in the evening, collapsing on to a chair, Jun Wei groaned, “I am so tired. Man, at least we get to eat.”

That was another perk of working at Trapped. All new chefs cooked a full meal for the wait staff thereby making them always the first to fully try the restaurant's new menu. Tang Yi might have been an emotionless, mysterious boss, but he was a good one.

Zhao Zi was nearly bouncing in his seat; he was always excited when it came to trying out the new menu. He often raced home afterwards to update his food blog. He wrote his thoughts and feelings about the food, tried to describe the flavors accurately and fairly and described how the decor tied in with the food and the mood it established. He was careful to not post his accounts until after the restaurant debuted its new chef to the public; he wrote anonymously and was careful to avoid any details that would identify him as one of the staff.

Zhao Zi had quite a following. He received a lot of correspondence from newspapers and magazines inviting him to join their staff or asking for an interview. It was tempting, but Zhao Zi truly loved his coworkers and the ability to have an inside look at the unique restaurant. He loved watching it come together, each piece necessary to its core: Tang Yi’s curation of staff, Hong Ye’s organization, the kitchen staff’s passion and the waitstaff’s excellence. Each review he wrote about the restaurant was like a letter of deep appreciation to his family, because at the end of the day, that’s what they were. The reviews, however, did not shy away from critiquing the food, and were honest about any faults that were found.

Hong Ye thanked them for their hard work and instructed them to sit down. It was time. From the kitchen doors came first Tang Yi who somehow still managed to look put together and unaffected after a long day of work. Behind him came the new chef.

It was the red-haired man.

Zhao Zi’s eyes widened as he took in the new chef’s apparel. He wore a black chef’s jacket with a red trim that seemed as if it had been tailored. It hugged his body like a glove, showing off his athletic form. The man walked casually behind Tang Yi, a casual smirk in place. They stood at the head of the dining room.

“Thank you all for your hard work today.” Tang Yi began his speech, his deep voice carried across the room. He truly had an impenetrable expression. The only time Zhao Zi had seen him crack a smile was with Hong Ye and even that had happened three years ago. “In order to thank you for bringing his vision to life and for the future work on which you will embark together, our new chef has created a menu for us to dine on tonight. You will find the new menu in the booklets in front of you. Please order as you wish.”

The first dinner with the staff was not only a thank you, but also a test to the new chef. It was their chance to command the kitchen fully. They hired extra wait staff for the occasion so that Trapped’s staff could enjoy their meal. As a reward for the night's hard-work, Tang Yi would in turn treat the kitchen staff to dinner at some of the leading restaurants in Taiwan. Cold he was, but benevolent.

“Before you start, our chef would like to say a few words.”

The redhead stepped up beside Tang Yi and greeted them all with a grin. “Hello,” he said, his voice smooth, low, and rich. Zhao Zi swore he heard some of the women and men swoon in response. Yi Qi’s cheeks immediately turned bright red. He himself even felt a slight swooping sensation in his stomach that he decidedly ignored.

“My name is Jack. You may refer to me as Chef Jack.”

Jack was an odd name. Zhao Zi wondered whether the chef had spent some time abroad. Plus, did he not have a last name?

“Today I have prepared a traditional Taiwanese menu, with my own personal touches. I hope you enjoy it.”

He nodded and led the way back to the kitchen to start the service.

“Taiwanese, huh,” Yi Qi said as they all turned back to the table. A low murmur was already filling the room. They opened the menu and were scandalized. “But...but this looks like the kind of food you would get at a corner shop! Why would anyone want to pay top dollar for this?”

Zhao Zi had to agree. The menu items weren’t particularly exciting, but perhaps the execution would be. He settled for a bowl of beef noodle soup. You could tell a lot about a chef by how they executed the simplest of dishes. Beef noodle soup was common, but every restaurant and food-stand had their own closely guarded recipe that made the dish their own. Zhao Zi was interested to see the chef’s take on it.

Orders taken, the team settled into their seats, wine in hand.

“I wonder what made Tang Yi go for this guy,” Yi Qi questioned. She lifted the glass of white wine to her lips. “Has anyone ever heard of him? At least we had heard about the others.” She looked at Zhao Zi in particular, seeing as he was the one who always displayed more knowledge about the industry.

“No,” he shrugged. “But Tang Yi has never failed us before..”

Jun Wei peered at him. “You are not as excited about this menu as I’ve seen you be at other times.”

Zhao Zi laughed. “Yeah, it’s a bit difficult to be excited about something I can get anywhere. Plus no one can beat my grandma’s beef noodle soup. Not even a top chef, or whatever this guy is.”

“You sure?” Jun Wei challenged, a growing grin taking over his face. He nodded towards the food that was now exiting the kitchen. “We will find out soon enough.”

When Zhao Zi’s beef noodle soup was set in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel a little impressed. Plating up an appealing looking soup was always a challenge and the chef’s arrangement of this one was stunning. The broth was dark and rich, contrasting greatly with the white noodles. The bok choy was a deep green and accented by the light green scallions sprinkled across the top. The beef was sliced thinly and served on top of the noodles. Zhao Zi saw hints of red flakes, indicating the soup would come with heat.

He stuck his chopstick in and pulled out a wad of noodles. They were well cooked with a slight firmness. Zhao Zi brought the noodles to his mouth.

A moan escaped him.

Jun Wei and Yi Qi stopped and looked at him with raised eyebrows. Zhao Zi flushed a deep red, quickly chewing up the noodles.

“That good, huh,” Jun Wei laughed.

Zhao Zi nodded, but had no words. He continued to dig into the soup, enjoying the tenderness of the beef contrasted by the structural fidelity of the noodles. The hint of licorice flavor in the soup was perfect and there was something else, something Zhao Zi couldn’t pinpoint quite just yet, that tied the whole thing together.

His grandmother had been an expert at making beef noodle soup. She had her own recipe and made it for him constantly. It was his comfort food. So he wondered what was the story behind this meal. Despite its clear appeal to the palette, a symphony of tasty perfection, he felt something was missing. Something that told a story and gave a hint as to who Jack was.

The team enjoyed their meal. Yi Qi praised her vermicelli oyster soup and Jun Wei had a second order of soup dumplings.

“Well I guess you were right. Tang Yi didn’t let us down. That was amazing,” Yi Qi said. “The public won’t know what hit them.”

After dinner, they always completed anonymous surveys that were given to the chef. While he knew most of the staff praised the food, he often tried to give good constructive criticism. For his beef noodle soup, he wrote: Amazing soup with a deep, rich flavor and delightful hint of licorice. A flavorful adventure. However, I can’t help but wonder, where’s the story? What are you trying to say?

Zhao Zi knew that previous chefs had never responded to their critiques. Oftentimes they thought themselves above the staff, an unfortunate result of early career success and zero-humility. He wondered if this chef would be the same.

When he got home that night, he stepped into his house and felt...alone. Putting his things away, Zhao Zi slipped into his pajamas, a big t-shirt and soft sweat pants before walking over to the little alter he kept for his grandmother and lighting a candle for her. “Nǎinai, I had some pretty amazing beef soup today. World class,” he whispered to her. “It still wasn’t as good as yours.” He bowed his head and stood up, making his way upstairs to bed.

--- Back in the kitchen, Jack looked over the survey responses that had been submitted by the waitstaff. A lot of them expressed the fact that they had been surprised at the simplicity of the menu, but were blown away by the food. Good. Jack liked surprising people with the unexpected.

He knew he didn’t necessarily carry himself like a professional chef, and that he was relatively unknown and would therefore be put under a lot of scrutiny, but Jack had no doubts that he would succeed in impressing the public. He would settle for nothing less.

“How did the staff take it?” Tang Yi asked, slipping into the seat next to him.

“I seem to have pleasantly surprised them.”

“I expect you to do the same to the critics.”

“I will, boss,” Jack affirmed. He pulled out one of the survey cards, “Do you know who this is?” Jack asked. Tang Yi took the card and read through it.

He smirked.

“What is your story then?”

Jack smiled back, coyly taking back the card and slipping it into his pocket. Tang Yi and him had met under unconventional circumstances. Tang Yi did not know much about Jack’s background, no one did, but in their time of interaction he grew to realize that Jack was amazing in the kitchen. Now he was using that to his advantage.

Jack stood and lazily saluted Tang Yi before slipping through the kitchen doors.

-------------------

I will be posting updates to this story on AO3.

[futuristicallyspeedyparadise]

Insecure (Zhao Zi x Jack story)

Zhao Zi knew he was being a little irrational.

There was no reason to doubt Jack.

None.

Yet, watching Jack smile at the supermarket cashier boy was making his stomach twist in knots.

Zhao Zi was crouched down behind a pyramid of canned fruit. Clutching on to a can of peaches, he watched Jack pick up his bagged items, give the cashier a final grin and head off towards the exit. Hurriedly, he stepped away from the cans—surprising the person who had been examining them—paid for his items and began his journey home.

He hadn’t realized he would run into Jack at the supermarket. Zhao Zi had stopped to grab some ingredients to see if he could convince Jack to make dessert tonight; he had a sweet tooth today. When he had first spotted his boyfriend, he immediately began to walk towards him, grin in place. However, he stopped abruptly when he watched Jack laugh at something the cashier said.

At first, Zhao Zi hadn’t understood the heavy anchor that had suddenly dropped onto his chest. Nor did he understand the flash of irritability that had sparked. He didn’t understand why it made him angry to see Jack’s genuine smile given to someone else so freely.

After all, Zhao Zi had the privilege to know Jack beyond a four-minute encounter. He was a witness to Jack’s bedhead and sleepy morning smiles; heard the redhead’s hysterical laughter when they got into their tickle battles; felt his warmth and knew the softness of his lips. Zhao Zi came home to Jack every day, the redhead usually waiting for him with open arms and a cooked meal. He liked coming home to the man, feeling for the first time in a while that he had a family.

It had taken a little bit to get used to having Jack in his life and to grow comfortable with his affection and desire for him. It had only been a year ago that he had finally owned up to his feelings for Jack. Faced with the thought of never being able to see him again, Zhao Zi had quickly come to realize that the very thought of Jack slipping away from his life—as quickly as he had come—made the air leave his chest.

The night that he had asked Jack to stay fundamentally changed everything. At first, Zhao Zi had been a bit shy. When Jack moved in, he didn’t really initiate any physical intimacy and preferred for Jack to take the lead on such matters. His ears and cheeks usually burned after the heavy make-outs they often had in front of the television after dinner. No matter what they were watching, Jack would inevitably pull Zhao Zi onto his lap, bringing the smaller man to straddle his lap, and spent the next half hour exploring his mouth.

Zhao Zi had never fathomed how good it felt to be wanted.

When he got home from the supermarket, Jack had not yet arrived. He had told Zhao Zi in the morning that he would be running a couple of errands and would therefore be late.

Zhao Zi put away the items he had bought to make dessert and then headed upstairs to their bedroom. The room was brilliantly lit, the setting sun casting an orange glow across the space. He walked over to the dresser and grabbed the first t-shirt he saw. Zhao Zi liked to be comfortable; he believed that one of the best moments of the day was when he was finally able to shed the layers of clothes and slip into something simple and breathable. The t-shirt he had grabbed was Jack’s. It fell slightly big on him and covered his boxer-briefs.

Zhao Zi put his day clothes into the laundry basket and sat at his window seat. He brought his legs up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and lay his chin on his knees, staring down towards his front yard.

He had taken up wearing Jack’s shirts some time ago, enjoying how loose they were while lounging around the house. The first time he had worn them, Jack had come home and had immediately taken him to bed.

Zhao Zi remembered the moment clearly; he had watched Jack enter his yard from the window, heard his soft footsteps on the stairs, always agile and graceful, and had watched him cross their bedroom threshold. Jack had looked tired—he spent a lot of his free time consulting on gang murder cases now—but the moment he had looked at Zhao Zi and took in what he was wearing, the sleep swept from his eyes only to be replaced by something more carnal. He crossed the room, pulling Zhao Zi to him, and plundered his mouth. His hands dove into Zhao’s Zi’s hair and he kissed him deeply, almost desperately. Zhao Zi remembered the waves of pleasure and happiness that surged when Jack had moaned into his mouth and whispered, “I can’t believe your mine.”

This past year had been the happiest time in his life. Despite the initial bumps in the rode in which Zhao Zi had learned to slowly trust his heart, together they had built a comfortable home. They were a family and Zhao Zi couldn’t help but smile at the thought of it. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling trepidation. Was there such a thing as being too happy? How long would it last?

Hearing the keys downstairs, Zhao Zi stood from the window seat and raced down to meet his boyfriend. Jack stepped into the kitchen and turned his head to watch Zhao Zi’s hurried approach. He grinned, taking in Zhao Zi’s outfit. Placing the groceries on the counter, he turned his full attention to Zhao Zi, grabbing him by the hips and pulling him in to press their bodies together.

“Hey, shorty,” Jack murmured. He leant down to kiss Zhao Zi. “I missed you.”

Zhao Zi melted into the embrace. When Jack began to pull back, Zhao Zi reached up to hold his head in place, and captured his lips again. Was it possible that he had done something extraordinary in another life? It wasn’t possible for him to have deserved this. The privilege it was to feel so good and so safe in Jack’s arms.

He felt heat pooling as Jack moaned into the kiss and reached down to pick him up. Zhao Zi wrapped his legs around Jack’s waist as he was placed on the edge of the kitchen counter. Jack ran his fingers up Zhao Zi’s thighs and Zhao Zi shivered, a trail of goosebumps having been left in Jack’s wake.

Finally, he pulled back and looked at Jack whose gaze had gone heavy-lidded with pleasure.

“To what do I owe such a pleasant welcome?”

Zhao Zi blushed and averted his eyes. “I missed you.”

Jack grinned.

“Do you want to eat now or later,” he said nodding towards the groceries he left on the counter.

“Now!”

“Alright then,” Jack chuckled and started to move away to begin prepping the meal. But Zhao Zi couldn’t let him go. He trapped Jack in between his legs and prevented him from moving.

Jack quirked an eyebrow.

“Do you want to eat food, or did you desire something else to eat?”

Zhao Zi blushed.

“I…” he stammered but couldn’t get out a response. Why was it so difficult to speak?

Jack’s teasing smile softened, and his eyebrows knitted together. He brought one of the hands that had settled on Zhao Zi’s thighs up to his face, caressing it softly. “What’s wrong, Li An?”

“You don’t…like anyone else, right?”

Jack’s smile faltered.

“What I mean to say is…I’m…I’m the only one you look at, right? Like this?”

Jack frowned.

“Where is this coming from?”

Zhao Zi sighed. He felt stupid and insecure and stupid for feeling so insecure.  

“I went to the supermarket today. I saw you there…with the cashier…and I…the way you smiled at him…I don’t know…I didn’t like it.”

His statement was met with silence.

He peeked upwards and saw the grin on Jack’s face.

“What are you smiling at!” He huffed, getting ready to extricate himself from their embrace and storm off upstairs.

“You’re jealous.” Jack stated matter-of-factly, his grin widening even more. “You’re so jealous.”

“I’m not jealous! It’s just—”

“You are!”

“No! I’m not…I just—”

“C’mon, shorty. You can admit it.”

“It’s…I…You’re mine!” Zhao Zi finally blurted out. Then in a small voice, “Right?”

Jack’s grin softened and he pushed his forehead against Zhao Zi’s. “You’re right. I’m yours. Only yours, Zhao Zi. I don’t look at anyone else this way. I don’t want anyone else.”

Zhao Zi didn’t know how to respond. Somewhere in the back of his mind he already knew Jack was his. That despite being a liar throughout his life and a man of different faces, Jack would not lie to him. Not about this. And that his worries were stemming from an insecurity much deeper, and pervasive inside himself.

“I’m sorry,” Zhao Zi muttered.

Jack shook his head and brought a hand to Zhao Zi’s chin. He waited until Zhao Zi looked at him.

“Zhao Li An, I like you. I stayed here because of you. A year after that decision, I am still so fascinated by you. Still attracted to you. That hasn’t changed. It won’t.”

Jack nuzzled his nose. “OK?”

Zhao Zi smiled.

“OK.”

Also posted on AO3