#ok im on my third rewatch of the bear someone help me

[sameheart-sameblood]

Missed Connection

Missed Connection Ch. 2

pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader

summary: after being best friends since culinary school, you and carmy have had somewhat of a falling out. while opening up a restaurant in chicago, you try to make amends and get your friend back

words: 2k

warnings: 18+ eventually but nothing of real note in this chapter, some angst, eventual friends to lovers, dummies who can't just say how they're feeling, slow burn, me not knowing how restaurants or chef things work

a/n: sooooo this was meant to be self-indulgent porn. but i should know by now i can't write porn without plot. it's my curse. also i just love carmy so much that i wanted to spend some more time with him. this might only be two chapters, but i have a feeling it'll be more than that. only time will tell!

read on ao3!

“Well well well, if it isn’t Food & Wine’s Best New Chef.”

Carmy’s head snaps up, almost comically, ready to fight whoever is bringing up that damn accolade yet again. It’s been almost ten years, for christ’s sake. 

You smirk playfully as his eyes find you. His soften and you see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. But Carmen Berzatto doesn’t show his emotions easily. Thankfully, you’ve known him long enough to be able to read the ghosts of expressions that play at his face. You didn’t just learn how to cook at culinary school. You learned how to decipher your enigmatic friend. That’s what years of cooking together side by side will do. 

Carmy comes around the counter, ignoring the obvious stares from his co-workers. He pauses in front of you, then pulls you into a tentative hug. Your smirk disappears, replaced by a comical look of surprise. Chefs aren’t known for being touchy-feely people, Carmy least of all. But you haven’t seen him in almost a year, people change. 

You awkwardly return the hug, which ends all too quickly. Carmy studies you, like you’re an old recipe he hasn’t attempted in years but once knew by heart. “Long time, no see, Rosy.”

Smiling at the nickname he gave you in school, you answer back with his pet name. “Right back at you, Bear.”

*******

Carmy introduces you to his staff. Everyone greets you with different levels of enthusiasm. Marcus, the pâtissier, grins at you as he shakes your hand, instantly offering you a piece of his cake to give your thoughts on. 

Before you can enthusiastically oblige him, Carmy is pulling you away to continue the introductions you know he’s feeling awkward about. Syd, the sous chef, offers you a half smile but seems much too busy for you. As a chef yourself, you take no insult to this. The food comes first. 

Tina also has no time for you, giving you a quick once over before yelling at whoever stole her stock pot. Richie smiles knowingly at Carmy as he greets you, calling “sweetheart” and offering to show you how the kitchen works. 

“She’s Chef de Cuisine at a three Michelin star restaurant, cousin. I think she knows how a kitchen works.”

Richie holds up his hands “I don’t even know what the fuck that means. Was just being friendly.” 

Last is Ebra, who gives you his name then asks you point blank if you and Carmy are dating. Carmy sighs a Jesus fucking Christ as he pulls you into his office and slams the door shut. 

Once safe from prying eyes, Carmy quickly clears off a pile of papers from a chair and offers the seat to you. He takes one opposite you and lets out a sigh. Running his hands through his wild hair, he smiles ruefully. “Sorry. They’re a great staff but they can be…a lot.”

After the kitchens you had been in through the years and the jerks you had worked with, the crew at The Original Beef of Chicagoland seemed like goddamn angels. “Nah, they seem nice. If just a bit nosey.”

Carmy nods, huffing out a small chuckle. You study his face, the familiarity of it making memories rush back from your shared past. With those memories comes a funny feeling in your stomach. For years, you had mistaken that feeling for anxiety. It was the only feeling that was always a constant in your life as a chef. 

Carmy was always there alongside you, so you just assumed the environment caused that tingle in your gut. But slowly, you had realized the difference between your anxiety and your feelings for your friend. 

The anxiety felt cold and empty, like a bottomless pit you might never claw your way out of. The feeling Carmy gave you was the polar opposite. His presence left you feeling warm and surrounded, completely taken care of. You had missed that this past year…

You could dwell on your crush later. Right now, your main focus was getting your friend back in your life. He stares at you and you realize you’ve been gawking at him for entirely too long. “Not that I’m not happy to see you but…” He glances to the clock. 

“Lunch rush, huh?” it’s less of a question from you and more of a commiseration. No matter how long you’ve been in a kitchen, the lunch rush is always the most dreaded. Carmy nods, fidgeting in his seat. 

“I know you’re busy but I’m gonna be in town for a bit and just wanted to say ‘hey’” it sounds lame. Saying ‘hey’ after not speaking for a year is pretty weird. 

Carmy’s eyebrows knit together in worry. “Work ok?”

You hurriedly nod, sorry you caused him anxiety when he already looks so run down. “No, no. It’s good. Great, actually. We’re opening up a location here and I’m taking point on it.”

His worry doesn’t fall away like you expect it to but he nods “That’s great, Rose. Happy for you.” You choose to believe his words rather than his expression. 

“Thanks…” you look into his eyes and search them for permission for the next subject you want to broach. You want to talk about why you’ve both been so silent this past year when you’d been best friends for the last decade. 

But his eyes dart back to that fucking clock and you decide against it. This conversation deserves all the time it needs. 

You get up, understanding Carmy’s time is precious and you’ve already eaten up enough of it. He jumps up, more worry etched into his face. “You’re leaving already?”

You look between him and the clock. “I just…lunch rush, right?”

Carmy nods dejectedly. “Yeah, those sandwiches won’t make themselves.” As if on cue, you hear a pot fall in the kitchen and the sounds of muffled yells. Carmy once again runs his hand through his hair, seemingly as a way to self-soothe.

You’ve seen your friend stressed beyond belief before. But this is something different. He looks like his tether to sanity is fraying and fast. It breaks your heart and so before you know what you’re doing, you’re blurting out an offer that you’re sure he’ll refuse. 

“I can help with prep if you want? Many hands and all that.” You see him thinking it over, certain he’ll rebuff your offer. He was never one to ask for assistance. But he surprises you with a gentle nod. 

“That would be great, Chef. Thank you.”

******

The lunch rush is…insane. You’re not sure what you had been expecting but it wasn’t this. How much business could one little hole in the wall sandwich shop do you had thought before service started. 

The answer is a whole fucking lot. 

Regulars crowd the tiny shop as tourists meekly try to edge their way in as well. 

You help with prepping the vegetables, knowing it’s one of the most hated jobs in the kitchen. It’s also the perfect job for staying out of the way but being helpful. 

The rest of the staff instantly love you for this except for Tina, who studies you as if trying to figure out what your angle is. You’d love to explain to her the only angle you have is spending time with your best friend whom you’ve missed dearly. But before you can open your mouth, Carmy is yelling out for more orders and it’s back to business. 

At the end of the rush, the kitchen is in shambles. Your face is flaming hot and flushed, like a tomato come to life. It’s how you earned your nickname in culinary school. You hated it at first but then learned to love it, realizing you looking like this meant you’d put in the work, got the job done and made the customers happy. 

Everyone else in the kitchen looks completely exhausted. But the strange thing is they’re happy. You’re not used to these vibes. Exhaustion is always a given. Maybe you’ve worked in mostly toxic environments but usually by now, everyone would be at each other’s throats. 

It’s not to say the chefs here don’t give each other shit. An outsider listening in on them during the rush would have thought the day would end in murder. But to an insider, that’s kind of just how kitchens sound. But the chefs at Original Beef are able to weather the insanity of lunch and still crack jokes and thank each other for their hard work at the end of it. 

You watch them happily as you all clean up, feeling like one of the crew already. Watching Carmy leading them makes you long for the days where you two worked together. But you know that’s probably never going to happen again and you push aside the brief sadness and revel in the joy that you got to work side by side with him again, if just for the day. 

“Thank you for your help, Chef,” Carmy leans against the counter next to you, smiling tiredly. 

You take off your blue apron and fold it neatly, handing it back to him. “Anytime, Chef.”

You’re due back at your hotel to change before you meet up with the investors. Once again, the tension is back between you two. God you miss the days where there was never an awkward moment between you and Carmy. 

He accepts the apron, looking small as he clutches it to his chest. “Duty calls?”

You sigh soullessly. Cooking is what you excel at, not business. You were flattered when your boss asked you to take responsibility for the opening of your Chicago location. You just didn’t realize how much handshaking and negotiating you’d have to do. “Time to wine and dine the investors. Really important, world peace negotiating level type stuff.”

Carmy smiles at you. It’s tiny and doesn’t quite reach his eyes but it’s a start towards what you two used to have. “You’re putting the work in. Gotta get through all that bullshit to get to the stuff that really matters.” The food.

He’s right and you nod, accepting that fact. You don’t want to leave him yet but it’s your turn to be distracted by the clock. “It was great cooking with you again, Chef.” 

Carmy smiles again but this time the sadness under the surface is evident. “Just like old times, huh?”

“Yeah. Well, I’m in town for the next few weeks at least so…”

“Dinner sometime? Or, you know, any meal that works best for you.” 

You think on the offer and counter your return. “Hey why don’t we do get brunch tomorrow? Mimosas are on me.” 

You let out at laugh at Carmy’s look of horror that quickly morphs into a relieved grin as he realizes you’re taunting him. “Fuck you.”

Grabbing your jacket, you throw a “dinner sometime would be great” over your shoulder. 

Your chest feels full in the best way as you realize you and your best friend are back together again. All might not be right with the world but it’s as close to perfection as it’ll ever be. You stop and turn to the tired chef. 

“Hey, Bear?”

He watches you, blue eyes sparkling. “Yes, Rose”

“Fuck you, too.” 

It’s as close as I love you and I missed you that you’ll get. Carmy grins as you laugh and turn reluctantly towards the exit. Neither of you have ever been good at conveying your emotions. But you know he can read between the lines and decipher what you really meant. He just hopes you know it’s what he feels too. 

******