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newtkive · 3 months

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practice - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader, mentioned platonic marcus x reader

summary: The sudden changes at your work prove to be a lot to keep up with, but Carmy notices your efforts where you think he’s just a tough boss. He proves to be more than that when he finds you pulling an all-nighter at the restaurant.

wordcount: 3.8k

warnings: none really, anxious reader, ooc!carmen (he would never let mistakes fly like this lmao), kinda fluff at the end

a/n: this is basically how i would react working there bc i almost have an anxiety attack every ep watching carmy yell at everyone. sorry for any typos!

The fast moving pace that Carmen Berzatto brought to The Beef was something extraordinary. The skill of his professional chef background was carried over into the small hole in the wall that otherwise would have never changed if it wasn’t for him.

His drive was contagious, even infecting the staff you knew like the back of your hand. You never would have thought your coworkers, ever comfortable with a stagnant pace, would become accustomed to such change around their second home.

It was great to see your favorite people quickly see their own potential thanks to Carmy’s vision. The only problem was you.

You were falling behind, and quickly.

You tried to convince yourself you could keep up as things changed. But your mind was faster than your barely skilled hands and you were terrible at cutting ingredients evenly during a rush and you always somehow got sliced or burnt and your eyes always stung from the onions you were stuck prepping because that was the one job you couldn’t fuck up but hated— to put it simply, you sucked.

The faces of your coworkers reflected what you feared every time you turned around to take a breath, heels of your hands rubbing tears from your eyes as Carmy screamed profanities at the crew. Tina’s eyes would linger on you, brows raised and silently asking if you were okay. You would nod and blink the tears away before jumping back in. By the end of every shift Ebraheim would pat you on the back before leaving, and Sydney would send you a small, sympathetic smile and wave while you tied your shoes on the bench near the locker.

Each time you could see the sympathy in their eyes and it made you hate yourself even more.

You were used to sandwiches; assembling simple ingredients between a hoagie bun on a slow Sunday surrounded by the people you called family. Cracking jokes here and there, no pressure to make things completely perfect, which ended up making things perfect. So much so that regulars even seemed disappointed to see you up at the register some days instead of in the kitchen assembling their lunch.

Carmy wasn’t blind, he could see exactly what was going on, which was why he didn’t pick on you as much as he did when he first arrived.

The first couples of weeks that Carmy was there he noticed the difference in your station compared to everyone else’s. Organized, cohesive, clean—save for the multiple drinks you always had. You worked at your own pace, not slow but definitely not up to par with Carmen’s standards. You made it work though, cutting ingredients almost perfectly and whipping up sandwiches and other specialties not a second too late.

The change happened when Carmy upped the stakes and encouraged—or yelled at—everyone to be as quick as they possibly could. His yelling was off putting, and you didn’t respond well to much other than positive reinforcement.

The chef didn’t notice until the uneven bread and too-thin tomato slices lead back to you. He was quick, marching over to you with a purpose; if it was a cartoon, his hair would be alight with fire. “Chef!” His voice was hard and urgent, because he didn’t have time to deal with this.

As he approached, he noticed your hands shaking as you held the dull shitty knife, head whipping up and cheeks red, all but heaving from the pressure. So much pressure.

“Yes Chef?” You asked attentively, waiting for him to explode.

Carmen had all intentions to do just that, tear you a new one, tell you that you’ve been here long enough to know how to cut a fuckin’ tomato the right way but he paused. The look in your eye was wild and scared. His face fell, obvious turmoil behind his blue eyes causing a change in his decision. You waited with bated breath, but what you were expecting never came.

Instead, Carmen did his best to be calm and set his hand on the counter, leaning a bit. “I want you to show me how to slice that tomato.” He said.

“What?” You were confused and it was clearly written on your face. So were your nosy coworkers who exchanged looks and shrugged, expecting the young man to wail on you with his words.

Looking over your shoulder at the others, you tried to exchange weary looks with anyone but Carmy pulled you back in with his words. “Don’t worry about their shit. C’mon, show me.” He said again, motioning to the tomato sitting on the cutting board, looking at you expectantly.

After a beat of weariness you did what he asked. With an exhale your knife pierced the red skin and cut it, your wrist dragging it back and forth to cut all the way through. You gave a few more slices, doing your best to ignore his scrutinizing gaze.

Reviewing your slices, you mentally pat yourself on the back at the sight of them perfectly even and a fairly thin. You turned to look at Carmy, and he seemed to have an epiphany as he stood there holding his chin. Eyes flickering up to you, he nodded. “You know what that showed me?” He asked, and before you could answer he continued. “You’re competent, you did that shit with a dull knife. Don’t cut ‘em too thick or too thin, you have no excuses.”

He should feel ridiculous, like he was coaching a baby how to do the easiest job in the world, but for some reason Carmen was able to swallow his irritation and try to guide you.

You nodded, back straightening and hands sweaty. “Yes, Chef.”

Carmy was about to walk off but stopped himself, turning back around, eyes boring into yours as he grew more serious. “You hear me yelling, you listen, but I need you to focus, Chef. You can do this shit, I’ve seen you pull through before. Don’t let my mouth get to your fuckin’ head.” He said low enough just for the both of you to hear.

He was close, blue eyes staring right at you, the smell of the kitchen clinging onto his apron. It should’ve been intimidating, and it was a little, but you knew this was his version of offering comfort and maybe even some sort of apology.

“Heard, Chef.” You said just as quietly back.

There was a second of him staring, before he simply walked away without another word, leaving you to your own devices. Whatever he said seemed to put some perspective into your work, because you didn’t have anys setbacks for the rest of the day.

On the way home, sitting on the train with headphones in your ears and a jacket wrapping you up tight, Carmy’s words swirled in your head. You knew you could do this, and you could somewhat see in Carmy’s eyes that he had faith in you too. It was just a new world you were all suddenly thrown into and it was hard finding your place. On days where you felt like a baby fawn standing on shaky legs, wobbling and failing to find your footing, you had to keep going.

A single word rang in your mind.

Practice.

Your apartment was pretty small and shared with a roommate, so you lacked the accommodations and tools to really do all you wanted. Aside from that, you didn’t want to be the rude roomie who clashed pans in the kitchen all night long. So, as you made your way off the train you didn’t leave the station. Instead, you waited for the next ride to the city and headed straight for The Beef.

The sun set as you approached the back door, humming a tune as you pulled out a spare key—one that definitley would be confiscated once Carmy found out about it, probably clambering about it not being safe in the foreseeable future—from under the fuse box outside and unlocked the door.

You entered the kitchen, brows immediately raising as you saw all of the kitchen lights on. Slowly moving forward, a sense of anxiety grew as you knew no one would usually be here except for Carmy, and you really did not want to get a talking to from him right now.

Turning the corner, you sighed in relief when you saw the familiar stature that belong to Marcus. He had his phone out, recipe pulled up in front of him and a song playing softly from the speakers that he sang along to. You chuckled softly, alerting him of your presence. Head snapping up at the sound, he almost looked like a deer in the headlights as he met your eyes.

Similarly to you, he let out a relieved sigh and sent you a smile. “Scared me, Y/N.” He laughed softly, hands whisking again.

“Sorry.” You apologized, tugging your coat off. “What’re you doing here, man?” You asked as you headed over to the lockers and shoved your stuff away.

Marcus shrugged. “Could ask you the same thing.”

“Practice.” You said simply, shrugging and tying your apron around your waist. Approaching the kitchen, you started gathering a few clean pots to start your work.

Humming and nodding, Marcus gave you a knowing grin. “Same here.” There was a beat of comfortable silence as you gathered a knife, cutting board, and an onion before washing your hands. “I actually stay here sometimes overnight. It’s easier, that way I won’t waste time going back and forth from home.” Marcus explained.

Surprise filled your features and you sent him an impressed look. “Wow, no wonder you’re getting better fast.”

He chuckles bashfully, filling another mixing bowl with flour and whatever else he desired. “Eh, I guess.” The shrug of his shoulders made you laugh before you turned back to your own work.

With one last question of Marcus asking if you minded his music, and you affirming that you didn’t mind at all, he turned the dial on his bluetooth radio up and you both fell into a comfortable rhythm; Marcus in his corner and you on the stovetop.

By the end of the evening you prepared a vibrant beef braciole dish that a few of the others had been practicing since Carmy introduced it. You brought it to one of the stainless steel counters with two forks, setting it next to the two pieces of cake Marcus had sliced up from his recipe of the evening.

You both dug in, humming in satisfaction as you tasted each other’s creations, sharing impressed and ‘holy shit’ expressions that made the other laugh.

“This is fantastic.” Marcus said, another mouthful of beef being added to his mouth.

You laughed and shook your head, muttering a thank you, trying to swallow down your surprise. Marcus could tell, because he doubled down. “No, really, Y/N. This is the best one I’ve tasted yet, aside from the big Chef.” He said with a grin.

Shaking your head, you gave him your appreciation. “Thank you, Chef. I can say the same thing from you.” You motioned with your fork to the cake. In truth, his words pushed you and affected you more than you lead on.

The both of you fell into a rhythm, whipping up treats and savory meals almost every day after work. Marcus playing music at his own station, you timing yourself relentlessly to try and replicate the fast pace of the open hours of the restaurant. You sometimes even found yourself staying overnight, taking turns with Marcus to use his sleeping bag—he insisted where you didn't want to overstep, but sleep called you and his pillow was comfy.

Relentless practice proved to keep you on track and up to pace with everyone else, slowly but surely. The impressed glances shared between Tina and Sydney every time you had them taste a dish or were quicker than usual were enough, but Carmen was ever the critic. A new menu soon graced The Beef alongside their regular sandwiches, and it was a tough menu to master. You almost had them all down pat, practicing relentlessly for almost four weeks now after work.

However, every time you presented a steaming spoonful of stew, or a perfect bite of chicken piccata that everyone else in the kitchen seemed to love, Carmen would bite into it, hum, and shake his head. "Good." He said every time.

"Good like.. good good? Or good but start over, it's trash, throw it away?" You would ask, clearly waiting with baited breath on a slow day.

Carmy shook his head again. "It's not ready yet, Chef." And then he would be off to collect more expo receipts and leave you there disappointed, shoulders deflating in defeat.

"I think it's great, Chef." Marcus would smile, hands busy working on dough for his unmastered donuts. You would offer a sad smile in return, marching off to assemble another hoagie and handing your failed dish to a waiting Richie in exchange for an appreciative rub of his hands together. The negative feedback only spurred you to improve your craft as much as you could.

It was a rare occasion that Marcus didn't stay at the restaurant overnight. He left early in a frenzy after a phone call, muttering something about his mom's nurse needing him. Offering comfort wasn't your strongest suit, so you bid him luck and made a mental note to bring him his favorite coffee during work later in hopes to cheer him up.

At the same time you were plating what felt like your dozenth chicken piccata of the week, soft footsteps approached the kitchen. As soon as the timer went off behind you, you whipped around and hit the top, a harsh exhale and wipe of your forehead following the silence. You felt proud, plating and finishing your dish in record time without any hiccups.

A soft chuckle brought you out of your stupor, head snapping up to meet bright blue eyes from across the kitchen. There stood Carmy with his unruly curls, white tee and brown jacket he was beginning to pull off. In place of his usual stoic face was an amused expression, clearly not expecting to see someone in the kitchen at this hour.

You froze at the sight of him, but his soft smile eased your shoulders a bit. “Smells good.” Carmy said as if it was the most casual thing, hanging his jacket by the lapels on a hook. He sat on the bench, beginning to change his shoes into nonslip ones.

Stuttering, your cheeks turned pink. “O-oh, uhhh, thanks.”

“You’re here early.” He said back, standing now and readying to tug on his apron.

Brows furrowed, you looked above him to glance at the kitchen clock. Big red numbers read 6:15 AM and your brows raised in shock. Before you had a chance to respond, he walked closer, beginning to talk again. “I’ve noticed you and Marcus are always here before anyone else.”

You shrugged, nervous smile gracing your lips as they upturned slightly. “Ah, yeah. We both wanted to practice. Y’know, catch up with everyone else.” You explained. Conveniently, you decided to not mention the instances of spending the night, figuring it would be a little to embarrassing or earn you a talking to.

Carmy was now approaching the other side of the counter where you stood, hands tapping the steel. His little smug smile didn’t leave his lips as he nodded. “I also noticed a few things missing from our inventory.” His words were clearly teasing, but they made your face run pale.

“Fuck, I'm sorry, Chef. Take it from my paycheck, please—I didn’t even consider—“ The rambling was embarrassing, and his head shake cut you off.

“No, stop, Y/N. I'm teasing you.” Carmy laughed softly with a small smile, clearly endeared. The use of your name made you bashful.

A beat of silence followed, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. Carmy glanced behind you at the dish that laid perfectly plated, motioning to it with his hands. “Let’s see if your hard work is paying off.”

Blinking in surprise, you obediently nodded and turned to grab the dish. Sliding it in front of him, you gathered a fork and knife. Carmy grasped the utensils with a ‘thank you’, fingers brushing yours. It didn’t take long for the chef to dig in, eyes immediately closing once the first bite hit his taste buds.

“So.. what do you think?” You plucked up the courage to ask after he swallowed.

Carmy looked up at you, lips curling upwards and a proud look dawning his features. “Great, as usual.”

Usually those words would make you excited, but Carmy had a habit of complimenting your dishes before declaring how they weren’t good enough just yet. You simply nodded, swallowing thickly as he took another bite and savored the taste. “What should I change?” You asked, straightening your back in preparation for the inevitable criticism.

Humming, Carmy shook his head, the same amused look as before coming back. “Nothing, Chef. It’s perfect.” He said firmly. Those words made your breath leave your lungs, hands becoming clammy, and before you knew it you were grinning.

“Really?” You asked, not able to keep your excitement together.

Carmy let out a full laugh at that. “Really.” He confirmed.

You clapped your hands together before covering your face, hiding the grin as best you could. It had been awhile since you felt so elated due to cooking, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. You felt like the whole month of dedicating your time to cooking was culminating to this moment. Carmen watched you with soft eyes, taking in how happy his words made you. You turned back to him, giving up hiding how ecstatic you were. “I braised it differently this time, could you tell? Well, obviously you could if it’s good this time.” You rambled on, a bit of a giggle in your voice.

“It’s always this good, Y/N.” Carmy suddenly said. His words had you pausing, tilting your head playfully. Hand trailing along the counter, he rounded it to stand next to you.

"What do you mean?" You asked, smile falling a bit. The man's words echoed in your head and you looked around the room as if to try and find meaning from his statement. Surely he didn't have you remake the dish for no reason, right? But Carmy's strong posture and raised brows, waiting for you to figure it out yourself, made you think that's exactly what he did. Sobering up, you scoffed and crossed your arms as you sent him a look. "Are you serious? This whole time..." You trailed off.

"Yes, this whole time." He said, leaning on the counter with one hand, eyes not leaving you. "I needed you to bust your ass, Chef. I knew you needed the practice, so I gave you the motive." Carmy explained. The scrunch of your nose made his chest hum with something warm, akin to looking at a kicked puppy that he wanted to scoop up and reassure. Guilt washed over him a little bit as he feared he was acting more and more like his old Chef, but he pushed those feelings down as best he could. He did this for the right reasons, unlike that dickhead in New York did to him. There was no berating and preying on insecurities, just some tough love.

Sighing, you were torn between being angry and feeling grateful that Carmy saw this potential in you. You didn't know what to say, so you blurted out exactly how you felt. "I'm embarrassed."

Carmy frowned, ducking his head to catch your eyes where you looked down a bit. "Why are you embarrassed?" His voice was soft, tiptoeing as to not make you more upset.

Allowing him to meet your eyes, you curled into yourself at the attention. "Because I've made a fool of myself these past few months." You murmured, spilling your guts to your new boss for some reason that you didn't know. Maybe it was the quiet kitchen, or the sudden defeat you felt, but your mouth was faster than your mind.

A small 'no, no, no' left Carmy and he shook his head, reaching a hand out to place on your shoulder. "Don't be. I came in and turned shit upside down, it just took you a bit more practice to get the hang of things." His hand started to rub your arm comfortingly, leaving heat where he touched. You knew this must have been a form of an apology in his own way. The words didn't come easy to Carmen, but he tried to convey it the best he could.

Leaning forward, Carmy mustered his best stern expression, wanting to keep your gaze so you couldn't look away and distract yourself from his next words. Your breath caught in your throat, not used to this proximity. "I'm proud of you. You should be proud of yourself too."

Heat encapsulated your cheeks and you nodded, spurring him to nod as well. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

As soon as Carmy saw your shy smile he gave one right back to you. Still close, he radiated heat that made it all the more difficult to calm the butterflies growing in your stomach. Eyes never leaving each other's, the air grew tense as the dust settled. Unlike the usual sandwich smell, an aroma of a clean linen scent came off of him as you realized he must have showered before coming here. Carmy never would admit it, but your perfume filled the air for him, making him linger longer than he should have. The blink of your stare looking up at him made Carmy's chest tighten, and he immediately pulled himself out of whatever trance he was in.

Clearing his throat, Carmy let go of your shoulder and backed up a bit. "No more all-nighter's here. Okay, Chef?" He tried to seem playful to rid himself of awkwardness and whatever that just was.

Mouth falling open, you gaped at him. "How did you know?!"

Hands up in surrender, Carmy just shrugged. "A Chef never tells his secrets," He began, heading over to the drying rack to busy himself, playfully adding, "And someone kept leaving the spare key out, so I figured." The smirk he sent you made you grin and roll your eyes.

Carmy would never tell you he knew because that's what he used to do. Before he got the hang of things in his earlier days as a chef, late nights in the restaurant kitchen and a half hour of sleep was the norm for him. As you began cleaning up your work the chef's gaze lingered on you, blue eyes studying your form with a thoughtful look. Carmy shook his head, smiling to himself and starting his work. He reckoned he saw himself in you more than ever.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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wannabeschyulersister · 3 months

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lovelorn and nobody knows

Sometimes it felt like you had the words “I’m in love with my boss” written on your forehead in big capital letters.

As much as you tried to hide it, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. He was truly amazing at his craft and seeing him so passionate made you want to do it as well.

There were times that he acted a little like a jerk but he’d redeemed himself recently. Thanks to Sydney.

And to Claire.

You were surprised when you learned he was seeing someone. He brought Claire around when the restaurant was practically falling apart. It was such a weird moment. You physically could feel the awkwardness in the air.

She seemed really nice but part of you still disliked her just because she could call Carmy hers.

You avoided being around them as much as possible. It hurt just looking at the way he smiled at her.

Every part of your being wished that were you.

You wished you were the one he confided in after a long day at the Bear. You wished that you were the one he walked around the city with hand in hand. You wished you were the one that had his heart.

You felt like a lovesick fool.

Instead of subjecting yourself to seeing the happy couple, you started to back out of any group activities unless it was absolutely necessary.

The group would often go and get drinks at a nearby bar at least once a week. You stopped going as soon as you heard Claire was a regular now. People would ask if you were going and you always had a lie ready to go.

As much as you loved working at The Bear, you knew that it would probably be best if you removed yourself from the situation. It hurt every time you had to be around Carmen and Claire. You didn’t want to constantly put yourself in heartache.

There was a popular Italian restaurant across town that needed a sous. You had a friend of a friend that recommended you. It was the fresh start that you needed.

When you got the job, it was bittersweet. You should’ve been happier than you were.

So, you drafted up a letter of resignation, took a deep breath, and walked into Carmen’s office after closing. He was busy looking at an invoice when you knocked softly on the doorframe to make yourself known.

He looked at you and smiled a little, “Hey, stranger. We missed you last night.”

“Yeah, sorry I missed it. I uh- have something to give you.” You wanted to get this part over with.

“Yeah? What’s that?” He reached over and grabbed the letter that you handed him. You hoped he didn’t notice the slight shakiness of your hand.

You didn’t answer him because you didn’t trust your voice in that moment. Carmen quickly read through your letter and you watched the expression change on his face.

“What the hell is this? You’re leavin’?” Carmen stood up from his seat and placed your letter down.

“I got a job opportunity that I couldn’t say no too. I’m sorry that this puts you in a situation where you are short staffed but I’m giving you a two weeks notice.” You explained to him.

“I don’t understand. You’re happy here, aren’t you? D-did something happen’ that I’m not aware of?” Carmen questioned.

Yeah, you fell in love with someone else.

You shook your head, “No, nothing happened. I just think I’m ready for a new challenge.”

Carmen didn’t look like he bought your lie. “(Y/n), you don’t think that I’ve noticed that you’re distant and-and you haven’t been coming out with all of us?”

Shit.

You’d hoped that maybe he was so busy with Claire that he hadn’t noticed you slipping away from the group at all.

“I’ve just been busy with other things.” You lied again.

“What’s going on?” He questioned.

“Nothing is going on, Carmen.”

He crossed his arms against his chest and it took everything in you not to stare and drool. Even when you tried to be strong, his biceps made you feel weak.

“I don’t believe you.” He stated.

“That’s fine. I just wanted to do the respectable thing and give you an adequate notice.”

Carmen stared at you and it made you feel like he could read your mind. Like he knew the exact reason on why you were leaving.

“I don’t want you to leave, (Y/n). I think you’re amazing and- and you have a bright future in this industry. I think it’s a mistake.”

Your chest ached at his kind words. “I’m just ready for something new.”

He sighed and looked away from you as someone knocked on the door. You turned and saw Claire holding a takeout bag, “Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”

“Now isn’t a good time, Claire.” Carmen told her.

She looked disappointed, “Am I interrupting something?”

You quickly shook your head, “No, the conversation is over. Have a good night.”

“(Y/n), wait!” Carmen called out to you but you left his office without another look back.

Even thought it killed you to walk away from him, you had to put yourself first.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto

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ilongfor-the-arts · 11 months

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Hi! Can I request a Carmy fic? I would love a confident reader who is maybe Sydney’s friend who comes to visit her at the restaurant. Asks her “who’s that?” when she sees Carmy in the background and tells Syd she has a hot boss (and Carmy overhears and likes her too). You can take it from there (with hopefully some smut)….I think Carmy would be emboldened if he knew that someone clearly liked him

More Than Friends

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem! Reader

Warnings: language, talking about sex, smut, oral (m! Receiving), office sex

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.8k

When I heard Sydney had gotten a job at "the best restaurant in the world," I imagined something a little more refined than The Original Beef of Chicagoland. Standing in front of the filthy sign, cluttered windows, and peeling facade made me question my decision to meet Sydney's "friends." I can only imagine the types of people who would gladly work here.

“Alright, I know it doesn’t look like much. But I promise, once you taste the food, you’ll never wanna eat anywhere else.”

I dragged my gaze across the unassuming appearance of "the best restaurant in the world." I'm not one to pass judgment based on appearance, but a dirty facade is not something you want to see in a place where food is being prepared for your consumption.

"Alright, Syd,” I say with a sigh, “I’m choosing to trust you on this one.”

Syd grasped my hand, tugging me through the threshold.

“Great! You won’t regret this Y/N.”

I permit Sydney to lead me into the restaurant. My nose was immediately filled with wonder. Considering the facade, the smell was impeccable.

“Woah.”

I said, staring aimlessly at the unkempt kitchen because the smell didn't match the appearance.

“What?”

Syd asked, worried something was not to my liking.

“I just- wow, it smells unbelievable in here.”

Sydney’s face broke into a pearly white smile.

“I know right! God, I was so worried you were gonna hate it!”

I looked all around the restaurant. It was shabby, dirty, and a little stuffy. In the corners of the room, the paint was beginning to peel. On the counter, a thin film of dust had accumulated. However, there was something that was quite adorable. For instance, it seemed as if this would be a great place for a first date. It appeared to be a location where many happy memories were stored.

“Hm.”

I hummed, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I don’t wanna speak too soon, but this certainly feels promising.”

“Oh my God just wait until you meet the crew! They are gonna love-”

“Sydney?!”

A moving figure that appeared behind the counter caught my attention.

Oh my God.

“Who is this?”

He pointed towards me.

“This is Y/N, the friend I was telling you about?”

His eyes landed on mine. He was gorgeous, God. I was almost angry at Sydney for failing to inform me about her sexy coworker.

“Oh, this is Y/N?”

Alright, now was the time to take command.

“Hey, I’m Y/N.”

I strolled over and optimistically extended a hand for him to take. His shocked gaze lingered over my friendly gesture.

“Oh- Um, hi Y/N, I’m Carmen…”

As Carmen clasped my hand in his, his voice drifted off. He had a powerful handshake. We were off to a fantastic start.

“But, um-my friends just call me Carmy.”

I grinned, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

“So, is it alright if I call you Carmy?”

He raised his eyebrows in surpirse.

“Well, I mean-um-that depends? Do you think were gonna be friends?”

I scoffed, my grin morphing into a subtle smirk.

“Y’know, I don’t know if I wanna be friends.”

It took a minute for him to get it, but once he did, the reaction was instnat. Carmen’s lips parted, a faint shade of pink creeping onto his cheekbones.

“Well, um-”

He looked to Sydney for solitude. She chimed in.

“Hey, um, Y/N, we only have about an hour until we open.”

She came around to my side, wrapped her arm around my shoulder, and led me to the kitchen. She was directing my attention away from Carmen.

“How ‘bout we take a look around and then I can make you some food to take home?”

I nodded.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

I removed myself from the uncomfortable blanket of awkwardness once we were in the kitchen and a considerable distance away from Carmen.

“Okay, what the hell Syd? Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot coworker!”

Sydney pressed her finger to my lips, hushing me. Her face was filled with fear. Was my flirtation really that petrifying?

“Sh! Y/N, he’s not just a coworker he’s my boss!”

My jaw dropped to the floor, my eyes widening.

“No way in hell! He’s your boss?! The man I just talked to is your fucking boss?!”

“The man you just flirted with is my fucking boss!”

I scoffed loudly, my tone creeping well above a whisper.

“Sydney you have a hot boss!”

“Y/N!”

She exclaimed sternly.

“Please! I beg of you! Try to keep the flirting to a minimum!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Jesus Sydney why don’t you just cut off my leg while you’re at it!”

I flung myself atop a kitchen coutner playfully, dangling my legs.

“I mean, you have this absolute hunk of a man bossing you around and hanging over your shoulder 24/7. You are lucky!”

Sydney crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pursed.

“Please, can you just not flirt with my boss.”

I groaned.

“You are no fun.”

I gnawed on my lower lip, staring into the nothingness past Sydney, letting my mind drift. When a burning question popped into my head, I quickly jerked back into reality.

“Alright, but, can I just ask one thing?”

Sydney sighed.

“What?”

She inquired, exasperated.

“Have you ever tried to-”

She waved her hands through the air, hastily dismissing my question.

“Oh my God please no more of that! No! The answer is no!”

I held my hands up in defense.

“Hey! Don’t attack me! I was just asking!”

Sydney rolled her eyes, her annoynace bubbling within her.

“Look Y/N, Carmen is a really lonely guy. He isn’t like one of those jocks you’re used to flirting with-”

Sydney's tone was tinged with judgment. I had to chime in.

“Woah, okay, when did this turn into criticizing my romantic choices?”

Sydney shook her head, restarting her thought process.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying you are a confident girl and he is very much so a not confident guy. And, I know you’re just screwing around, and even though you might think he knows you're screwing around, I promise you he does not.”

I stared off into space, appearing to carefully consider my next ideas even though I was only messing with Sydney. I mean, really? Don't flirt with her hot boss? Was she for real?

“Alright, so what you’re saying is make it obvious I’m not screwing around before I fuck him?”

Sydney groaned, her eyes virtually rolling to the back of her head.

“That’s absolutely not what I’m saying!”

“Sydney! Get your ass over here I need your help with something!”

Another voice, not Carmen's, reverberated around the kitchen walls. Sydney raced over to me, her voice barely above a whisper. I recoiled, surprised at her sudden closeness.

“I’m saying don’t fuck him! Please!”

She took a step back, placing distance between us. Sydney took a deep breath, steadying herself.

“Now, I gotta go. Are you okay hanging here for a second?”

I nodded, trying to conceal my annoyance.

“Sure. I’ll be okay.”

“Hands to yourself!”

Sydney exclaimed before vanishing from sight. I assumed she'd only take a few minutes, but after about ten minutes of waiting, I decided to go exploring. I stumbled upon an appealing door that was closed off from the rest of the restaurant. I glanced from side to side, ensuring no one was around to witness my snooping.

I flung open the door, eager to discover the secrets of the hidden room. What I didn't expect to find was Carmen hunched over a desk, scribbling on a scrap of paper. When he noticed I was in his office, a look of shock wafted over his features. He blushed.

“Oh! Um, Y/N, what are you doing here?”

I shut the door behind me. Now, it was just me and him, in his office, alone.

Perfect.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I was just exploring and this door was closed so it excited me.”

I motioned to the door behind me.

“Huh. Do-um, do things that are off limits entice you?”

I strolled over to his desk, trying not to overwhelm him with my seductive attempts.

“Yes. When someone tells me I can’t have something, it makes me want it real bad.”

Carmen scoffed.

“What? Like your friend's hot boss?”

Oh my God.

He heard that?

His cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of pink. He was taken aback by his own self-assurance.

“I mean, um, I didn’t-uh, I-I wasn’t eavesdropping I promise.”

He averted his gaze, suddenly becoming preoccupied with the numerous bills on his desk. I shrugged casually.

“It’s alright. Honestly, I don’t really care. It’s your restaurant after all. You have a right to know what’s going on.”

Carmen scoffed.

“What? Like your friend's hot boss?”

Oh my God.

He heard that?

His cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of pink. He was taken aback by his own self-assurance.

“I mean, um, I didn’t-uh, I-I wasn’t eavesdropping I promise.”

He averted his gaze, suddenly becoming preoccupied with the numerous bills on his desk. I shrugged casually.

“It’s alright. Honestly, I don’t really care. It’s your restaurant after all. You have a right to know what’s going on.”

Through his lashes, he looked up at me. Except for the soothing hum of the air conditioner, there was complete silence. The dim lighting created an intriguing ambience in the space.

“Uh-well, I’m still sorry.”

I grinned, his awkwardness was incredibly adorable.

“Did you happen to hear what Sydney said? Yknow, about the whole…”

I waved my hand through the stuffy air, hoping he'd finish the sentence for me. If Carmen was as unaccustomed to female interaction as Sydney suggested, I would not bring up the subject of sex.

Carmen raised his eyebrows.

“Uh-yeah, I-um, I heard most of it.”

He laughed awkwardly.

“Please don’t fuck my boss.”

He tried to mimic Sydney's tone of voice. I laughed, delighted by his attempts at humor. I trailed my finger down the uneven wood of the desk, attempting to appear nonchalant as I entered unfamiliar terrain.

“Yknow, we can still have fun and not fuck.”

Carmen shifted in his seat, tightening his grasp on the armrests. His knuckles had turned a pale white.

“We don't-y’know-we don’t have to do anything.”

I nodded.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. But, honestly, do you think I’m attractive?”

The breath hitched in Carmen’s throat.

“Yeah, I do.”

He said, voice cracking slightly. I smirked, fluttering my lashes suggestively.

“Good, cause I think you’re attractive.”

I moved my gaze down his body, enjoying the sight of his toned torso being softly hugged by a white shirt. God, his hands, what I’d give to have them around my neck.

Baby steps.

Carmen shifted once more in his seat, the bulge in his jeans becoming increasingly more difficult to conceal.

“And, if you’ll let me, I’d love to take care of that for you.”

Carmen’s eyes widened.

“Oh-um, you don’t have to-“

“Well, I’m aware I don’t have to. But, yknow, usually when two people are attracted to each other they act on it.”

I slowly dropped to my knees in front of him, staring at him through my lashes. I shuffled closer, settling myself between his spread legs. The gentle smell of sweat and smoke wafted through the air.

“I mean, what’s the point of being attracted to someone if all you do is beat around the bush?”

God, this angle made me want to fuck him even more. He looked extra sexy when he was all hot and bothered.

“Yeah-um, I guess.”

I reached for his jeans, slowly unbuttoning his fly.

“Is this okay?”

Carmen gulped, his lips falling open as his breathing became audible.

“Yeah, this is okay.”

I tugged his jeans down his thighs, exposing his black boxers. Carmen’s erection was growing with every subtle touch.

Jesus, he was big.

I hooked a finger in the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down to join his jeans in a pool on the floor. His cock sprang free, beads of precum already collecting on the swollen tip.

“Oh Jesus.”

Carmen murmured under his breath. His knuckles were white. I playfully cast a glance upwards as I wrapped my hand around his length. Carmen shuddered. His entire body convulsed as I began to pump his erection. A few stray curls fell onto his forehead, and his chest heaved with each strangled breath.

“Try to be quiet, alright? We don’t want Sydney to think I’m fucking her hot boss.”

With that comment, I slipped the tip of his cock into my mouth. Carmen grit his teeth, suppressing the noises that threatened to spill past his lips.

“Does that feel good?”

I asked before hastily resuming my previous actions. Bit by bit, I took Carmen’s thick cock into my mouth. But he couldn��t help himself. Carmen thrusted his hips forward, his tip slamming into the back of my throat. I gagged, his visceral reaction was incredibly unexpected.

“Shit,” he whispered, “I’m sorry. Uh-yeah, yeah, that feels really good. Please, please don’t stop.”

Oh, I was not stopping.

Carmen's tanned body was covered in a thin mist of sweat. Moisture had adhered to the loose curls on his forehead. His pupils had been blown, and his dreamy blue eyes had turned nearly entirely black with passion.

Carmen's chest continued to heave as he attempted to recover control over his own body. He threw his head back, his Adam's apple now exposed.

God, he was sexy. I wanted nothing more than to place a hickey on that lovely neck of his.

The sound of footsteps hurried past the office door. Carmen's eyes widened in disbelief. He placed his fist in his mouth and bit down hard to conceal his desire.

Oh God, the thought of Sydney bursting through the door to find me on my knees with Carmen’s cock in my mouth frightened me. So, I gently took Carmen’s free fist and placed it in my hair, hoping he would take the hint and manipulate me to his liking.

Thankfully, his desire was so prominent that he pushed away his apprehension. He quickened my pace, moving me along his cock more rapidly. I relaxed my body, allowing myself to become a tool to help him achieve his release.

Carmen gripped my roots with such force that I feared my scalp would be pulled from my skull. Nevertheless, I pushed past the pain and discomfort in my knees and worked to bring him to an orgasm.

Carmen instinctively bucked his hips into my mouth, his cock twitching on my tongue. His salty precum coated my taste buds. I dragged my tongue over his swollen tip, his length now twitching more rapidly.

“Fuck! Jesus, I’m gonna-“

Carmen’s voice morphed into a pornographic moan as his hot cum coated my throat. He released his death grip on my roots, taking a few loose strands of hair with him. I gently dragged my lips along his cock a few more times in order to bring him down from his high. When he grew completely soft in my mouth, I removed my mouth from his length with a subtle pop.

I stood, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“You alright?”

Carmen hastily shoved his cock back into his boxers.

“I’m uh-I’m great.”

He threw his jeans over his hips, tattooed biceps rippling as he redid his fly.

He has nice arms.

I bet he could throw me around really easily.

“I just-um-we open really soon and I-um-I need to get ready there’s still a lot of work to be done.”

Carmen pushed past me. Before he could throw open the door, I placed my palm atop his hand, halting his movements.

“Would you wanna get dinner with me sometime?”

His eyes had returned to their lovely blue.

“Sure, um… I’m super busy but I think I can make something work.”

He grinned softly. He had a beautiful smile. God, this guy needs to get laid.

“Sounds good.”

Carmen and I crossed the threshold into the now-busy front of the restaurant. Employees rushed back and forth. A crowd had gathered around the front door. Carmen tapped my shoulder to attract my attention.

“Could I, um, maybe get your number?”

He asked, chuckling. I crossed my arms over my chest. I grinned devilishly.

“Sorry, I don’t have my phone on me right now,” I began, “oh! But, Y’know who does have my number who you could ask?”

Carmen tilted his head to the side, intrigued.

“Who?”

My eyes crinkled as I grinned sincerely.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

“Sydney.”

#carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white x reader #the bear fic #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear #the bear season 2 #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

j is for james beard... and for jealousy | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

pairing: jealous boyfriend!carmy x female!reader

word count: 7.4k

summary: after sydney takes home a big win at the james beard awards, you and your boyfriend carmy run into an old rival for a fiery, chaotic, and surprisingly sexy night. companion piece to 'make my heart surrender' but can be read as a standalone oneshot.

warnings: 18+ chapter, minors dni: lots of swearing, p*rn with a plot, smut, p in v unprotected sex (reader is using hormonal birth control in monogamous relationship), praise kink, rough jealousy sex

a/n: how dare I drag poor james beard into this hetero nonsense?! anywayssss surprise i'm back because i keep having ideas for these two. maybe one day i'll just write a carmy x reader piece that doesn't include this character but for now... please enjoy this literal porn with a plot. also: let's all agree that toxic jealousy is a red flag in relationships, however, i wanted to work with a scenario where carmy would perhaps be more sexually assertive.

“I look ridiculous,” Carmy had grumbled earlier that day, at his reflection in the mirror.

He had never felt like himself while wearing a suit. Sure, he would spend time, effort, and money into finding the perfect vintage denim jacket, but a suit? He’d much rather be behind the scenes, in his chef whites, instead of this.

“You look…” you’d countered him, emphasizing the word ‘look’. “...hot, Carmen.”

He’d given you somewhat of a half smile in response – flattered by your comment, and also unconvinced you hadn’t just said in an attempt to get him out of the house.

Or out of obligation.

Because he’s your boyfriend. Because you’ll say anything to get him out for Syd’s big night. Because you love him.

Carmy had never gotten used to the whole celebrity aspect of the food world – especially his own. These award ceremonies were always an uncomfortable reminder that he never quite felt like he fit in.

“Do you think Syd would kill me if-?” Carmy had asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“Baby, Sydney is counting on us… and she and I will both kick your ass if you don’t get in the car,” you’d cut him off, because there was no way in hell he was getting out of this. With a scowl on his face, you’d dragged him down the stairs and into your Uber.

And that’s how he ended up here, at the James Beard award ceremony on a Sunday night, as you all wait anxiously for the announcement. While the restaurant hadn’t been open long enough to be nominated and was actively in a state of ‘working out the kinks,’ Carmy’s celebrity in the food world had brought in a lot of press. Ever since Sydney and Carmy had become partners in the reopen, he had been more than happy to let her take center stage. When the nominations were announced, and Sydney was on the list, he was ecstatic for her. Truthfully, it was a relief that she seemed to do much better with all the stuff he wasn’t crazy about: press, interviews, the spotlight.

“Wake me up when this snoozefest is over,” Richie mumbles trying his best to pretend he’s not having a good time. You snort, shooting Richie a look, because you know it’s one of the most exciting nights he’s had in a while.

Besides Carmy, who wouldn’t want to get all dressed up to go to a fancy party and celebrate Sydney?

You’ve somehow managed to corral the core staff of The Bear here this evening. The entire restaurant had been abuzz when the nominations were announced, and talks of who would get stuck at the restaurant the night of the award ceremony had already begun. It was an easy decision to close the restaurant for that night, so that everyone who wanted to could attend.

Your life here is better than you ever imagined it could be. Working your ass off in a kitchen that you love has been invigorating. It’s helping you fall in love with the process all over again. You suspect that your time in fine dining had, perhaps, run its course even before you quit your last job. Back then, here is what you’d longed for on the days you felt your most lost. You love being a teacher; you love mentoring Marcus. He’s got a desire to learn that never quits, and it inspires you day in and day out. But most importantly, you’re head over heels in love. You’re so deeply in love with Carmy that sometimes, you wonder what took the two of you so long to pull the trigger.

Tonight is no different. You’re surrounded by people you adore more than anything – people you’ve been in the trenches with during a dinner service from hell, people you’ve laughed your ass off with after a round of drinks outside of the restaurant – and you’re all here to celebrate someone who’s become a close friend of yours. It’s just another reminder – another sign from the universe – that you made the right decision.

And you’re sure Sydney is going to win.

You’re not sure how you know.

You can just feel it.

Sydney sits between Carmy and Marcus, and you’re seated in between Carmy and Richie. You notice Carmy’s leg is bouncing up and down impatiently as he anticipates the next category of awards. Even though you know these big social events put Carmy on edge, you know he’s really just nervous for her.

“And the winner… for the James Beard Rising Star award of 2023…” the announcer, esteemed chef Mashama Bailey begins, grabbing the attention of the entire room.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and Carmy continues to fidget nervously. You reach across Carmy’s lap, grabbing Sydney’s hand and giving it a squeeze of reassurance. Sydney holds on to you, and while you’re sure she might cut off your circulation from squeezing so tightly, you don’t mind. You’re all on the edges of your seat.

“Sydney Adamu of The Bear!”

You and Carmy are cheering as loudly as you can, while Richie jumps to his feet letting out a loud ‘whoop.’ A chorus of ‘that’s right,’ ‘she won!’ and ‘c’mon syd’ echoes through Tina, Gary, and Ebra and Manny, while Angel is already on his feet taking a video of the crowd. Everyone is cheering so boisterously you’re not sure it’ll ever stop.

“You won, Syd!” you yell over the loud claps and cheers, giving her hand one more squeeze. She rises, letting go of your hand, you and Carmy both following to give her some space to walk through the aisle.

“Let’s go, Syd! That’s right. That’s right,” Marcus calls out loudly, jumping to his feet with Richie and earning a few looks from the people sitting to the right and left.

“Congratulations, chef,” Carmy whispers, as she passes him by. You watch as Marcus ushers her over to the aisle so that she can go up to the stage while Angel films the whole thing on his iPhone. Carmy has the proudest look on his face, the tip of his nose the lightest blush pink, and you’re beaming as you watch your friend make her way towards the stage of the opera house.

“Remember when this was you?” you whisper to Carmy, catching his attention.

“Tonight everything changes for her,” Carmy replies, grinning from ear to ear.

“For the both of you,” you add. “For all of us.”

The night he won the rising star award put him on the map. While you hadn’t known Carmy at the time, you’d heard about him in those early days of both of your careers. Carmy had risen so quickly through the ranks that by the time you met him, he was only a few weeks away from his promotion to CDC at the old restaurant. Not only did this put Sydney on the map, but it was better press for The Bear than anyone could ask for.

“Congratulations, baby,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He just shoots you a look, the pride evident in his eyes, before wrapping his arm around you and holding you close.

“I just wanna say,” Richie begins, having garnered the attention of your group. You’re all huddled in a circle at the reception, champagne flutes in everyone’s hands.

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye…” Richie toasts, earning a few looks and side comments from your team. “And don’t forget about that time you stabbed me… but even if this brings a bunch of fuckin’ strokes to the restaurant, we’re so fuckin’ proud of you.”

“To Sydney, who’s… what does Carmy say… changed the chemistry and who is the heart of this restaurant,” Ebra adds on.

Tina smiles proudly, raising her glass to Sydney. It brings a smile to your face to see her all dressed up too.

“Syd, I don’t know where the hell we’d be without you,” Carmy continues, raising his glass.

“Cheers to you, Sydney!” you say, clinking champagne glasses, before taking your first celebratory drink as a team.

It doesn’t take long for your group to break off into smaller ones – making comments about how out of place you all feel at this fancy of an event. Richie’s wrapping an arm around Carmy’s shoulder, ushering him to a side conversation – something about ‘lizards this’, and ‘the working class that.’

“So how do you feel?” you ask, turning towards Sydney, taking a moment to quietly congratulate your friend.

“I think I’m still in shock,” she sighs in relief, earning a chuckle from you.

“Well, I’ll cheers to that. You know. To calm the nerves,” you joke, raising your glass once more.

“To liquid courage,” she agrees, clinking glasses with you again, as you both decide just to finish off your flutes of champagne.

“Can I get you another drink?” you offer, placing your now empty champagne

“Oooo can you get me one of those fancy themed cocktails I saw at the bar earlier?” Sydney replies, excitedly.

“Anything for you,” you say back.

“And when you’re back, I think I saw Carla Hall has a tasting table here so we should make our rounds,” Sydney mentions, because there’s no way either of you are missing out on the fact that the best chefs in the world are cooking in this room right now.

You nod in agreement, heading to the bar to get both you and Sydney a new round of drinks.

“What can I getcha?” the bartender asks.

You glance at the menu, deciding on your go-to, a gin and tonic, and then one of the featured cocktails of the evening that Sydney mentioned, knowing she’s a tequila drinker. You wait at the bar for your drinks, knowing the fancy mezcal cocktail you just ordered for Sydney will take a little bit of a time to make.

“I was wondering when I’d run into you,” you hear a voice say, grabbing your attention. It’s a familiar voice that you were really hoping you’d never have to hear again.

“Funny, because I was hoping to avoid you,” you quip back, turning to the man who’s just joined you at the bar. His bravado alone is enough to earn an eye roll from you and you can feel your guard going up.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, unable to hide the disdain in your voice.

“You haven’t heard?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face that you just want to slap off of it.

“I don’t make it my business to keep up with you, Walker,” you shoot back, using his last name as a formality, completely unamused by his question.

“God, I love it when you talk dirty,” he croons, a flirtatious low chuckle rumbling out of his chest.

You ignore him, rolling your eyes for the second time in the last two minutes, as you thank the bartender who’s just come back with your gin and tonic. You raise the glass to your lips, getting a head start since now, you definitely need this drink.

“Moved to LA. Took a CDC position out there. Besides, after you left… New York was… getting boring,” he explains, playing it cool. He drops the name of the well-respected LA restaurant that he’s running now in an attempt to impress you, which only seems to piss you off further.

You scoff in response. If you weren’t waiting on Sydney’s drink, you’d be long gone by now, but as you watch the bartender burn a sugar cube, you wonder how damn long it takes for a fucking mezcal drink to be made.

Maybe if I’ll just ignore him, he’ll fuck off, you think to yourself.

“You know, I was surprised to hear you moved to Chicago. Left without saying goodbye. Then again, should’ve known…” he provokes, continuing his very one sided conversation.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Nate?” you snap, turning your head to him, instantly regretting giving him the attention he’s so desperately seeking.

He raises an eyebrow, before nodding towards Carmy as a reply. Your gaze follows, and you can tell that Carmy’s noticed who you’re talking to at the bar.

“It’s a small world. Word gets around. People talk.”

But you’re not listening to him, your eyes fixed on Carmy. Carmy sends a look of concern your way, but you nod back to him as if to say ‘all good.’ You can hold your own here. Nate watches carefully, noticing the look you share with Carmy across the room. He was always a detail oriented son of a bitch.

“Classic golden boy,” Nate sighs, the envy in his voice giving him away.

“Don’t you think your little one sided rivalry with Carmy is getting a little old?” you laugh dryly.

“One sided?” Nate asks back, taking a step towards you.

“Yeah, one sided,” you repeat, standing your ground. Now way in hell you’re going to let this asshole back you up. “Because if I recall correctly, he never indulged you in your silly little games.”

Nate laughs again, taking another step towards you that makes you increasingly more uncomfortable.

“If that’s how you remember it.”

“Oh grow up.”

“Not when golden boy gets everything I want.”

“You’re so full of shit!” you exclaim, finally taking a step back. “Carmy’s had to work for everything he’s achieved. You and I both know that.”

“How do you think he’d feel,” Nate starts, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to sound seductive or intimidating – neither of which are working on you. “... if he knew about what happened between us? After he left New york? It was… what? A week, maybe two, before you jumped into bed with me?”

“Carmy knows I’m not a thing to be had, Nate,” you seethe, glaring at him.

The bartender returns with your second drink finally.

“You sure about that?” Nate smirks, reaching out to touch you.

What a fucking asshole.

“You’re disgusting,” you seethe, jerking your arm away from him. You take both of your drinks, and you can’t get out of there fast enough.

“It was great catching up,” he calls after you, cockily.

“Can’t say the same,” you say, not even turning to look back at him.

You return to your group, holding in your fury. It’s Sydney’s big night and you’d much rather focus on that than the asshole of an old coworker you can’t fucking stand. You try to shake off the interaction, deciding it’s not even worth expending energy on.

“What the hell was that all about?” Sydney asks, having witnessed your tenuous interaction with the man you called Nate. She thanks you as you hand her her new drink.

“Absolute trashcan of a human. We used to work with him. In New York,” you said, letting out a puff of flustered air.

“Okay but… that was weird right?” Sydney questions, seeing that this guy’s clearly gotten under your skin.

“Totally. He’s a piece of shit. He and Carmy always had this weird rivalry but it was mostly on his end. I… also may or may not have made the dumbest mistake ever once upon a time and slept with him… like… over a year ago,” you confess, feeling just a little bit guilty about it.

“Noooo,” she replies, her eyes widening. “You slept with that guy?”

“Yeah,” you answer, regretfully. “Not one of my finest moments. Long story short: right after Carmy left New York to come back here, I got a little too drunk with some coworkers. I was really sad and it was stupid, and uh, he was… let’s just say more than happy to play the part of a good listener.”

“Can’t imagine that guy being good, or a listener, let alone both at once,” Sydney replies, seeing the negative effect he’s had on you in one conversation.

“Yeah, It was a stupid fucking mistake and I regretted it the next morning. If you can believe it, he got even more insufferable when he realized it would never happen again,” you tell her, shaking off the bad taste in your mouth the conversation left you with.

“Yo,” Carmy says, hesitantly. He can tell that you’re pissed after your conversation at the bar. “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, honestly. “Just Nate Walker being a fuckin’ asshole. But what’s new?”

“Hey Syd! Let’s go grab a bite,” Marcus calls to her.

“You guys mind?” she asks, looking from you to Carmy.

You shake your heads ‘no’, and honestly, you’re glad it gives you a little time alone with your boyfriend. You watch as Sydney leaves with Marcus to make the rounds, leaving you and Carmy alone.

“Haven’t heard that name in a while,” Carmy starts, bringing Nate up again. He can feel his face beginning to heat up as he asks you about it.

“Yeah.”

“Biggest jackoff in New York City.”

“Well, apparently he’s LA’s problem now.”

“Fucko,” Carmy says, shaking his head at the memory of his pain in the ass sous. He can’t figure out why seeing Nate talk to you near-sent him into a blind rage, but you’d reassured him that you were good so, he let you hold your own.

“Seems like he had a lot to say to you.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” you reply dryly.

“After that I think I need a shower. Or a bath of bleach.”

Carmy lets out a small laugh, releasing some of the tension he, unknowingly, was holding in his body.

“Listen, I don’t want to talk about Nate,” you say, changing the subject.

It’s not that you feel weird about it – that you’d feel weird telling Carmy about what happened between the two of you – but it just feels so small and insignificant in the face of the love that you have with Carmy.

“Good, me either,” Carmy exhales.

Another release in pressure.

He wonders if he’d been this tense all night, or if seeing you with Nate had managed to piss him off this much.

“You wanna dance?” you ask him, a mischievous smile on his face. You offer a hand out to him.

“Baby, you know I don’t dance,” he states, matter of factly.

“I know. But I do,” you say, with a wiggle of your eyebrows.

“One dance,” he warns, earning a triumphant smile from you.

He takes your hand, prompting you to put your drink down on the table where you’re all posted up at. Carmy shakes his head, surprised that you’ve coaxed him this far out of his comfort zone. As he pulls you into his arms, you giggle, wrapping yours around his neck and sway to the loud music in the background.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asks you with such genuine love in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

He thinks you look like a goddess – could be the dress, but he’s pretty sure it’s you. Your hair is shorter now than it was a few months ago and lays in the softest, most gentle waves, parted perfectly down the middle. He hasn’t stopped staring at cherry red-painted lips all night, and every time he gets a peek of your legs through the high slit in the dress you’re wearing, he swears he short circuits.

Not to mention the low neckline. He’d watched you tie the top of the dress into a plunging neckline, and had to hold back his ask for you to cover up. It’s not that he cared about what you wore. But if he hadn’t been going to therapy over the last few months, he might feel some kind of way about anyone else getting to see any part of your breasts – anyone but him.

“A couple of times… but I won’t be mad about hearing it a few more, Bear,” you grin, leaning into him.

He smiles at your use of his childhood nickname. Back in New York, he’d kept it from you. It was just a reminder of what he’d left behind: his psycho mom, a nightmare of pain from his psycho-fucked-up family, how much it hurt when Mikey cut him out. But now, he loves the way it sounds coming from your lips, your voice the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. While he knows it’s taken him a long time to let you in, he’s glad he has. Whether it be at the restaurant or at the home you share together, you’ve become one of the most consistent things in his life.

The rest of the night is almost perfect. It’s filled with dancing, catching up with coworkers and friends in the culinary world, and most importantly, a celebration with your chosen family. That is, until you hear Sydney swear halfway across the room, catching the attention of you and Carmy both.

Carmy’s looking past you to where Nate is towering over Sydney at the bar. If looks could kill, he’s pretty sure Nate would be dead by now.

“Is that Nate again?” Carmy asks, his face pink as he feels a rush of blood flow throw him.

You can see that Sydney is practically in the same place you were an hour ago. You watch as he steps in front of her, practically blocking her in between him and the bar.

“I don’t like this. We should go over there,” you say with a sense of urgency.

Carmy agrees, and Richie and Marcus, who you’re currently conversing with, follow close behind.

“Okay. You need,” Sydney warns, her voice deliberate, like a rattlesnake giving one last warning before it strikes. “... to back… the fuck up.”

His response is even worse, causing a fire to burn in your belly as you overhear what he says to Sydney.

“Oh come on,” he coos, forcing himself closer to her. “I’m just trying to have a little fun.”

Sydney takes another step to the side, trying her best to escape him and holding her hands up as a barrier while you charge at him. Your sudden movement attracts his attention, giving Sydney the out that she needs. You put both of your hands on his chest, shoving him away from her as you shout.

“She said ‘no.’ What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Nate’s got such a smug, satisfied smirk on his face that, if you weren’t in a room filled with the best chefs in the world, you’d actually punch it right off of him. Carmy follows you, protectively standing behind you.

“Jealous?” he asks, amused. His eyes flicker over to Carmy, whose face is beginning to heat up, turning a brighter shade of red by the moment.

“In your dreams, asshat,” you spit back.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” he says, completely satisfied as Carmy’s fist clenches. He’s clearly enjoying just how much he’s getting under his old boss’ skin.

You feel Carmy step towards him, but you turn to him, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him, “Bear, it’s not worth it.”

“Did you tell him?” Nate asks you, with the intention of stirring the pot.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, shaking your head in absolute disbelief.

“Tell me what?” Carmy asks you softly.

“How does it feel, golden boy? To know that the one thing you always wanted… I got to first,” Nate sneers, a threatening sound in his voice. He looks from you to Carmy, assessing the damage.

Before Carmy can say anything, it’s you who lurches towards NAte, and Carmy’s wrapping his arms around you to hold you back. You can feel the tension in his arms as he holds you against his chest protectively.

“Okay this motherfucker is just asking for it,” Richie seethes, charging towards Nate.

“Richie, don’t!” Sydney shouts, shooting him a ‘please don’t make a scene’ look.

It takes all of Richie’s self control to stop himself. He nods to her, holding up his hands as a surrender. He begins to take a few steps back as your uncomfortably public standoff continues.

Sydney has retreated back so that she stands side by side with Marcus, while Carmy’s loosened his grip on your waist.

By the look on Nate’s face, you can tell he thinks he’s gotten away with it all, as he looks around at all of you one last time.

“You all have a goodnight,” he smirks, before taking his drink and slithering away.

You could care less where to. You’re just glad he’s gone.

You watch as he goes before checking in with Sydney, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, shaking her head. Marcus is by her side in an instant and you can see Carmy’s jaw twitching with anger. “Can’t believe you used to work with that guy. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck that guy,” Richie agrees under his breath.

“C’mon. Let’s just…” Marcus encourages quietly, nodding to your table.

Richie, Marcus, and Sydney all make their way back to your group as you stay with Carmy. His face is red and you can see it on his face that he’s still processing what just happened – what Nate said. You can see the gears turning in his head, and he’s staring at the floor, his face still cherry tomato-red.

“Carmy,” you say, ripping him from his thoughts.

He looks up at you, his face softening the minute you make eye contact.

“Can we go somewhere? Talk?” he asks, trying not to look like he’s going to burn the fuckin’ place down.

You agree with a nod, taking his hand and leading him elsewhere.

The further away from the reception you go, the quieter the party gets, and the louder your thoughts get. Would he be mad? You were furious with Nate for trying to use what happened to get under Carmy’s skin, but you also wonder if he’s mad at you too. For sleeping with Nate? For not telling him? But was it something you were supposed to tell him? It’s not like you expected him to tell you about every person he’d ever slept with.

Carmy finally stops, leading you into a quieter room, far away from the party. As you flick the lights on, it looks like a single dressing room for the plays performed here. The silence between the two of you is deafening, and it’s not just because it’s the first quiet moment you’ve had together since you arrived.

“I’m not mad… about Nate… about what he said,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you.

He’s trying his best to sound convincing, reassuring even, but he’s sure he’s doing a shit job.

You’re surprised, so you just take him in, searching his face for any clue that he’s telling that truth. His face is red, and you can see a tightness running across his chest as he’s looking for the courage to ask:

“But why didn’t you tell me?”

You sigh, unsure of what to say.

“Because…” you begin, hoping that if you just start talking, you’ll find the right words to explain. “I-, I didn’t think I had to. It happened once and it was a stupid mistake with… a lot of tequila involved.”

“You had just left New York and I was lonely. I didn’t say anything because… it didn’t mean anything to me, Bear.”

He listens, taking your explanation in, his eyes fixed on the floor again. He’s not mad at you, but he can’t seem to shake this feeling of anger – this tension that has him wanting to punch a hole through the wall.

“I don’t like what he fuckin’ said to you,” he finally blurts out.

“That- that he thinks he can just say whatever the fuck he wants. That he forced himself on Syd like that, like he can-.”

Carmy looks down at the floor again, his words trailing off.

He’s pissed.

You can tell he’s pissed.

But you have a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that says something else is going on.

Is Carmy… jealous?

“Carmy, I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” you apologize softly. “He shouldn’t have-, I mean he really is the worst fucking person to ever walk-.”

“I’m not upset about-,” he interrupts, firmly. He holds your gaze, trying to give you the most reassuring look he can. “I don’t care about-. I just… I don’t like the way he talked to you.”

You wait as he stews on his thoughts, his anger simmering as he sorts through his feelings. It’s like watching a hot pot of water come to a boil.

“I didn’t like seeing him touch you earlier like-.”

Let it rip.

“Like he can just put his hands on anyone he-. On you! I–.”

And then finally he explodes with, “I just fuckin’ hate that guy!”

It’s as if the pressure valve has been released as he lets out a big puff of air. While you can see it’s given him some relief, you’re still not sure what you’re supposed to offer at this moment.

“Carmy, what can I- hmmph?” you begin to ask, before being cut off by his lips on yours.

Well this isn’t what you were expecting.

Your head is spinning as your boyfriend kisses you with such passion, fervor, and urgency. He’s crashing his lips against yours at a desperate pace, and it’s all tongues and teeth and his hands are grabbing the back of your head, tangling into your hair. You’re not sure how you’ve gone from trying your best to hold space for your boyfriend’s feelings, to him pressing you up against the dressing room counter.

You gasp as he hoists you up onto the counter, pushing his body into yours.

“Carmy, are you-?” you ask, feeling the tent that’s already formed in his pants as you wrap your legs around him.

There’s a confident assertiveness he moves with, and as much as you hate to admit it, this is all turning you on.

“Hate that fuckin’ guy,” Carmy murmurs into your skin, as he begins to leave kisses down your jawline.

His mouth moves urgently down your neck, to your shoulders, to the exposed skin the plunging neckline of your dress reveals. His teeth leave light pink and purple marks in their wake, and you’re gasping, moaning, grabbing at any part of him you can hold on to. Little love bites begin to appear, but when he’s making you feel this good, you could care less.

He’s confident in the way he sucks little marks into your skin, biting down then immediately soothing the pain with his tongue. As he works his mouth over you, he looks up at you, his eyes wide, pupils blown out in pure desire, and it takes your fucking breath away.

Pain and pleasure.

Just to show the whole world that you’re his.

“Thinks he can fuckin’ look at you. Put his fuckin’ hands on you,” he mumbles against your skin. His mouth has reached the lowest point of your plunging neckline as he stands up, pushing himself against you between your legs.

“Baby,” you breathe out. You make a mental note to unpack why his sudden possessiveness has you so hot and bothered with your therapist next week.

“I really, really don’t want to talk about him right now.”

Carmy drops to his knees, stripping off his suit jacket and throwing it elsewhere. The sight has you absolutely drenched and you think you may cum just from looking at him.

“You’re mine,” is all he says, eliciting another moan from you as he sinks his teeth into the soft supple skin of your calf. You slide a heel-covered foot over his shoulder, as his lips begin trail up your calf, to your knee, to your inner thighs…

“Yes. I’m yours,” you breathe out, exasperated by Carmy’s sudden forwardness. You lean back, your head hitting the mirror with a thud. “All yours.”

He works his way up your thighs, leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs while his hands disappear underneath the skirt of your dress, frantically searching for your panties.

“Carmy, I don’t know if we have time for-,” you gasp, as he pulls away for a moment.

His curls are unruly from running your fingers through them, his lips swollen from the passionate makeout you started only moments ago. You feel his fingers hook underneath the top of your panties and he looks at you like he can see right through you. Holding your gaze, it’s impossible to not get lost into his ocean blue eyes you’ve fallen so deeply in love with. He takes his sweet time, teasing you, refusing to break eye contact, as he pulls your panties down your legs at an unbearable slow pace.

You don’t look away.

You don’t dare look away.

Finally, finally, he breaks eye contact, sliding your panties over your feet, and putting them into his pocket as you brace yourself for what comes next.

“We should-,” you start, your words ceasing instantly as he spreads your legs, licking a stripe up your dripping wet core. You cry out loudly, panicking almost instantly, because you don’t remember locking the damn door.

We should stop.

Do this elsewhere.

Lock the door.

Keep quiet.

But you can’t seem to get the words out, as you let out another loud moan, and Carmy doesn’t have the heart to stop you. Something primal inside of him wants nothing more than for the whole party mere hallways away to hear you crying out his name.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue through your folds. “Already so wet for me and I’ve barely even put my mouth on you.”

He wonders if there’s an award for this.

Lifetime Loser Award.

2023’s Most Jealous Boyfriend

Chef Most Likely to Fuck His Girlfriend During the James Beard Reception Because He’s a Sad, Jealous Fuck.

“Carmy, please,” you beg, scooting your hips off the counter and pulling him up from the ground. Your demand rips him from his own self deprecating thoughts.

“I need you inside of me. Now.”

You need him.

“Turn around,” is all he says.

He’s not sure where he gets the confidence for such a demand and it has you clenching around nothing.

You’re more than happy to oblige as you whisper out a ‘yes,’ and turn yourself around to face the mirror. You can hear the sound of him unzipping his pants, then he’s hiking up the skirt of your dress once more. He puts his hands on your hips to steady you – maybe even to steady himself – and you can feel the head of his cock running through your folds.

Just when you think you may die if you don’t get what you want, you let out the loudest cry you think has ever come out of your mouth as he pushes inside of you. You gasp, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you feel him shudder against your back. Your head hangs low, just focusing on memorizing how every single inch of him feels inside of you.

Carmy’s thrusts are slow at first, deep and deliberate thrusts burying himself all the way to the hilt. The sight of his cock disappearing inside of you is really testing his patience here as he thinks he may go insane.

Back out.

Then back in.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet. So fuckin’ perfect for me. God, I love being inside of you,” he groans, enjoying his last few slow and deep thrusts.

He’s got one hand on your hips and the other, wrapped around your waist. As he begins to speed up the pace of his thrusts, the hand around your waist goes to the counter too, to brace himself.

“Carmen,” you moan his name, as he starts to go faster. “Yes. Perfect for you. Only you.”

Only you.

Your words cause him to smirk, and the sounds you’re making only encourage him to keep fucking into you like he means it.

“Look at yourself, baby,” he says, his words causing you to squeeze around him. He groans, his eyes rolling back, before he returns his gaze to the mirror.

When you lock eyes, it’s like you’ve been set on fire. Your skin feels hot, and the prolonged eye contact has you squeezing around him as you start to grind against him. You feel lightheaded, breathless, purely at his mercy.

Carmy holds your gaze through the mirror and you want to commit this photo to memory. You watch your reflections in the mirror, seeing your face change as he speeds up again. His hands are everywhere: in your hair, grabbing you breasts, tracing over the little marks he’s left all over your chest.

“This how I make you feel? Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel,” he asks, and you think this is the most vocal he’s been during sex.

“So good, Car,” you’re panting. He grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head to the side so that he can kiss you. You manage to continue your praise in between wet, sloppy, and desperate kisses, and desperate thrusts between the both of you.

“So fuckin’ good. So high. Like I’ll never come back down.”

He’s satisfied with your answer, feeling more and more confident with each thrust. You can tell he likes it, so you decided, why the hell not?

“You feel incredible inside of me, baby,” you continue, wanting nothing more than to appease him.

He’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues to fuck you, your pushing your ass back against him, your hands bracing against the mirror. You see stars as he hits that spot inside of you – the one that makes you let out a sob – and he’s bending you over the counter so that he can find that spot again and again. Carmy presses his forehead against your shoulder as his hands move underneath your skirt once again, rubbing fierce circles around your clit, trying to take you there with him. He knows he won’t last long when you’re moaning his name like that. He looks up for a moment, enjoying the reflection in the mirror a little too much, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, feeling himself get closer… closer…

You can feel he’s close too, so you say something, something you know will bring him over the edge.

“Want you to cum inside of me.”

“That what you want? Want me to fill you up? Have me dripping down your legs when any other fucko tries to talk to you tonight. Tries to even fuckin’ look at you…” he asks, his breath ragged and sentences becoming increasingly choppy.

He's leaving little kisses and bite marks all over your upper back as he continues to fuck you.

“Yes,” you pant, moaning his full name once again.

“Fffffffuck, baby. That’s so hot,” he stutters, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He grabs a handful of your ass, chasing his high with you.

You’re squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see stars when he finds that spot again, and you remember that he wanted you to watch. You blink open your eyes, breathless as you take in the image of your boyfriend fucking you from behind. He’s got his forehead resting on your shoulder. You feel the delicious contradiction of pain and pleasure once again, as he sinks his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, in the same place from before.

So close. And you're already so tender.

“Carmen. Yes. Right there. Please, baby. Fuck. Don’t stop,” you’re crying out as you as your walls clamp down around him. It’s like an explosion erupts inside of you and you feel that you perhaps are on another fuckin’ plane of existence from the way he makes you feel.

Your eyes close again as he fucks you through your orgasm, taking you higher and higher. The way your walls are squeezing around him have him on edge and he gives you one, two, and then a third thrust before painting your walls with his release too.

He stops, resting his head on your back again, still buried all the way inside of you.

Both of your heavy pants fill the room, before you interrupt the status quo with a laugh.

“Holy shit, babe,” you finally say, exasperated and completely fucked out.

He pulls out of you, and you have to put a hand down on the counter he just bent you over, for balance as you stand up straight. You can hear Carmen pulling his pants back up and you’re adjusting your dress as you turn to look at him. His eyes are fixed on the button of his trouser pants, as you grab his face for another long, lust-filled kiss.

“What do you say… to getting out of here? Maybe continuing this at home?” you propose, your voice hoarse from what you’ve just done. Your forehead is still pressed to his and you want nothing more for him to say ‘yes.’

“Fuck yes. Please,” he practically groans, wondering how it’s possible for him to be hard again already.

“I’ll order a car,” you agree, reaching for where you left your phone on the dressing room counter.

“Surge rates, babe” he sighs, the disappointment evident in his voice as he issues the little reminder.

You shoot him a look that says ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?’

“I will pay all the surge rates in the world, if I get to have you again, as soon as possible,” you state, and he’s not sure he’s going to be able to wait till you get home.

You glance back down to your phone, your fingers moving quickly through the right buttons to get a car on the way. As soon as you see the confirmation, your swiping out of the app, and over to an unread message:

Sydney: So that was weird. Where did you guys go?

You: Out for some air. Sorry, we’ll be right back in.

Sydney: Angel wants pizza and a few of us are gonna go. Wanna come with?

You: Think we’re gonna head home. Breakfast tomorrow? My treat.

Sydney: 100%

You: Congratulations again, friend. Love you.

“What’s going on?” Carmy asks, as he sees you fiercely texting away.

“Nothin’,” you answer, seeing the Uber notification popping up on your phone. “Just telling everyone we’re gonna head home.”

You turn your back to the mirror to examine the damage, immediately spotting Carmy’s bite mark on your shoulder.

“Carmen,” you sigh, fingertips running over the huge bite mark on your shoulder – the one he left when he made while cumming inside of you.

Carmy takes a look, a small smirk on his lips as he sees what you’re referring to. He has to admit that he’s almost… proud of himself as he leans over, leaving a soft kiss against one of the rapidly forming purple bite marks left on the back of your shoulder.

As much as he’d like to show the entire culinary world that you’re his, he removes the suit jacket he just put back on, and hands it to you.

“Here. You can wear this.”

You giggle, taking it and appreciating Carmen’s act of chivalry.

“As much as I’d love to do a walk of shame through a room full of the world’s best chefs… think I’ll keep this one between me and the one that just fucked me,” you joke playfully, as you kiss him as a ‘thank you.’

You check your reflection in the mirror as you drape the coat strategically over your shoulders, making sure you both look somewhat presentable enough to flee the scene with dignity.

“Carm?” you ask.

“Before we leave. I just-, I want you to-,” you stammer, uncertain if you’re doing the right thing by telling him. You’d hate to play into Nate’s little game – even if you both won after what just happened.

“Hmm?”

“Just… you know… for the sake of factual accuracy and not that we’re playing Nate’s game at all but... you and I hooked up first. Nate just doesn’t know that.”

He nods in response, trying not to make it seem like a big deal.

But it certainly makes him feel better.

“Well, if we’re being factually accurate…” he offers up in response. “I know you always thought our whole rivalry thing was one sided… but it wasn’t.”

“No?”

“Rode that guy as hard as I could, every chance I got,” he confesses, in reference to your old, very toxic work environment.

“Because he deserved it?”

“Because I hated how much he flirted with you.”

You shake your head with a small smile. Your phone is buzzing in your hand, letting you know that your Uber has arrived.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Bear.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #sydney adamu #make my heart surrender #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut

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ssprayberrythings · 4 months

Text

home is a person | OP81

oscar piastri x student!female reader / smau fic

fc: maude apatow

pov: you’re a student studying abroad in australia and during this time there, you realize home isn’t always a place but rather a person. in your case you find your home with mclaren's f1 driver, oscar piastri.

warnings: mention of alcohol (beer bong too), other than that just emotional fluff !!

i already have plans for a part two but please let me know your thoughts !!!

yourusername posted on their story

📍melbourne, australia

caption: i’ll miss my child while im travelling

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summer adventures 🔆

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friend1: youre so cute

friend2: y/n we miss you

╰ yourusername: i’ll be back soon. i promise

yourmom: my sunshine child

╰ liked by yourusername

yourbestfriend posted on their story

📍sydney, australia

caption: haven’t seen her in weeks and she brings a book to our lunch ☹️

╰ yourusername: i was only reading it until you got to the restaurant

friend2 posted on their story

📍melbourne, australia

caption: don’t be fooled, she’s actually happy to be home

╰ yourusername: sure, whatever you say

You loved all your friends but you had only been back in Melbourne for not even 48 hours and they were already dragging you to a BBQ party when all you wanted was to be in your apartment curled up with your cat, Timmy while reading a book.

“I promise if within an hour you really aren’t enjoying yourself, you are more than welcome to leave. I’ll even promise to order the uber” your friend told you “Deal” you agreed. You enjoyed your parties but you also enjoyed some peace and quiet, right now you wanted the latter.

You arrived at the party and made your way to the backyard with your friend. You had brought a pack of coolers with you, being raised never to show up empty handed to someones house. “I’m gonna go put these with the rest of the alcohol, Im sure I’ll see you around” you told the friend you had arrived with and then set off to find the alcohol table, mostly to put the coolers down but to also get yourself a drink, you needed one if you were planning on seeing this through.

You found the booze table and put the coolers down, then scanned what other alcohol they had. You opted for making a vodka, lemonade. Once you had a red solo cup in your cup, another friend of yours passed by and asked if you wanted to come play beer pong. You just shrugged and said “sure”, you didn’t mind a good game every once and awhile.

When the two of you got to the beer pong table, two boys stood at the one end. You had to admit they were both good looking, however the blonde one had caught your eye. “Is it us against you two or how are we doing this?” your friend asked, both boys shared a look “We can split up” the brunette boy suggested “I’ll be your partner” he added referring to your friend

“Are you okay with that?” your friend asked turning to you “Fine by me” you said as you walked to the other end of the table where the blonde boy stood “Just don’t be mad when we beat you” you added looking at your friend chuckling slightly “Oh you're on” she laughed.

“I’m Oscar” the blonde boy introduced himself “I’m Y/N” you offered him a smile, he seemed familiar but you couldn’t tell from where “Are you good at this?” you asked taking a sip of your drink while your friend and his friend introduced themselves to each other “Eh I’m decent” he answered your question, laughing slightly “We can win with decent” you joked making him laugh again.

One game of beer pong later, you and Oscar had won against your friend and his friend “Yes!” you exclaimed as the last ball went in, indicating you had won “Good job” Oscar told you holding his hand up for a high five which you gladly gave to him “We make a good team” you said as a small blush appeared on his face “We do” Oscar agreed with you.

From that point on, the two of you spent the rest of the party together getting to know each other, playing a few more games of beer pong, dancing a bit, overall having a great time together.

When the night was coming to a close and you were walking to meet your friend to go home, Oscar was right by your side “Is there any way I could get your number?” he asked scratching the back of his neck “Yeah but under one condition” you started “You have to take me on a date” he blushed but chuckled “I can definitely do that”.

Once your numbers were exchanged and you shared a quick hug goodbye, you were in your uber with your friend “Aren’t you glad I made you come” she smirked looking at you, you just rolled your eyes. The both of you knowing she was right but there was no need to say it aloud.

yourusername posted on their story

📍melbourne, australia

caption: planned or candid? guess we’ll never know 🤭

╰ yourbestfriend: MISS Y/N WHO TOOK THIS

╰ yourusername: i’ll tell you after the date

╰ yourbestfriend: DATE!!! FACETIME ME WHEN YOU GET HOME, I NEED ALL THE DETAILS !!

more replies…

╰ friend1: happy to see oscar took you somewhere nice

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perks of being home 📸🐨🌅

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yourbestfriend: THIS IS HIM

╰ yourusername: 🤦🏻‍♀️

oscarpiastri: cant tell whose cuter; the koala bear or the person who took the picture of the koala bear

╰ yourusername: i vote the koala bear

╰ oscarpiastri: i have to disagree ;)

╰ yourusername: guess we can agree to disagree ;)

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im definitely enjoying this time off from racing

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yourusername: still never getting over how you casually said you were an f1 driver

╰ oscarpiastri: 🤷🏼‍♂️

landonorris: now i know why you’ve been taking forever to answer my texts

╰ oscarpiastri: i’ve had other things to do

piastrixnorris: WAIT DOES OSCAR HAVE A GF !?

f1fan_: OSCAR PIASTRI, ARE YOU A TAKEN MAN ??

wagupdates_: we’ll solve the mystery. its our duty 😎

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limit of happiness exceeded 🧡

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oscarpiastri: my happy place

╰ yourusername: 🥰🥹😘

oscarpiastri: timmy my adopted son

╰ yourusername: he loves you, maybe more than me

╰ oscarpiastri: that was my goal this whole time 😏

friend1: i’m taking a nap on the freeway tonight

╰ friend2: im joining you

yourbestfriend: he still needs the best friend stamp of approval

╰ yourusername: we’ll come to sydney before his break is over, i promise

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my happy place is next to you

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f1fan: AWE

user4: THEY’RE DEF DATING

user81: SHES SO PRETTY

piastripastry: OSCAR UR GF IS STUNNING FR

╰ liked by oscarpiastri

wagupdates_: GUESS WE HAVE A NEW WAG ADDED TO THE LIST

yourusername: thats so funny, my happy place is next to you, what are the chances

╰ oscarpiastri: no way, we must be made for each other or something 😉

╰ yourusername: seems that way 😏

user20: im silently sobbing at their comments to each other

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for anyone wondering: f1 drivers make the best bfs

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yourbestfriend: he gets the best friend stamp of approval now

╰ yourusername: YAY

oscarpiastri: girls named y/n make the best gfs

╰ yourusername: ur so cheesy, keep it going

╰ oscarpiastri: for you, anything

friend1: does he have any single f1 friends ???

╰ yourusername: let me get back to you on that

╰ friend2: i’m wondering this too

╰ yourusername: 😅

oscarpiastri posted on their story

caption: my adopted son timmy & his mother 👨‍👩‍👦 @yourusername

╰ yourusername: we love you 😘

more replies:

╰ user12: ok cuteness overload

╰ user14: this is too cute

╰ user2: oscar you're killing us

yourbestfriend posted on their story

caption: cuties @yourusername @oscarpiastri

╰ yourusername: oh my..you’re the worst

╰ yourbestfriend: you love me though

oscarpiastri posted on their story

📍 sydney, australia

caption: boat days ⛵️ @yourusername

╰ yourusername: ❤️

yourusername posted on their instagram

📍 sydney, australia

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, friend1 & others liked

i’ve become one with the sea 🩵

view all comments

yourbestfriend: today was so fun! the four of us need to hangout together more !

╰ liked by yourusername & oscarpiastri

friend1: youre the cutest

╰ yourusername: 🥰

oscarpiastri: i wonder who took these photos of you 🤔

╰ yourusername: some australian man who tagged along with us🤷🏻‍♀️

╰ oscarpiastri: hmm..hes a good photographer

╰ yourusername: hes alright..;)

Things between you and Oscar had been going so smoothly. Obviously he had to get back to racing pretty soon which was why you were making the most with the time you had, not that either of you minded spending pretty much everyday together.

Right now you were sitting on your balcony, enjoying the morning breeze, while Oscar was still sleeping. He had spent the night because yesterday you had gone to Sydney for a boat day with your best friend and her boyfriend and by the time you got back, it was pretty late.

You didn’t want Oscar driving back to his place so you offered for him to stay which he gladly accepted and you were able to fall asleep cuddled up together.

Your cat was curled up in your lap while you read a book. You were so engaged with your book, you didn’t notice Oscar walking out of your room and coming into the kitchen, seeing you on the balcony. He didn’t want to startle you so he walked over to the door, tapping on the side to get your attention before speaking

“Morning” he smiled at you “Morning, did you sleep well?” you asked as you put your bookmark in your book and shut it. He nodded while a yawn escaped his lips “Do you want a coffee? or I can make us breakfast” you suggested as you picked your cat up and got up walking to the door.

Oscar moved to the side to let you in and shut the door behind you “Why don’t we go out for breakfast” he offered “This way you can just rest” he explained as he walked over to where you stood by your kitchen counter, where you had put your book down, gently putting a hand on your lower back. “Sure, I like that idea” you told him as you smiled looking up at him “I just need a few minutes to get ready and we can go, I actually know the perfect place” “Sounds good, also I was wondering if you had a spare toothbrush” he asked laughing slightly.

You laughed with him and nodded your head “Follow me” you instructed and brought Oscar to your bathroom to show him where you kept spare toiletries incase anyone ever needed anything while they were here.

“Thanks” he told you once he had a toothbrush in his hand “Anytime, when you’re done just make yourself at home and I’ll be ready soon” you told him.

As you turned to walk away to get ready, Oscar grabbed your wrist causing you to stay in place, he leant down giving you a quick peck on the lips “Sorry Ive just been wanting to do that since I woke up” he told you blushing.

You had a small blush on your own cheeks, he truly was the cutest person you knew “No need to apologize, you're welcome to do that whenever you want” you told him causing him to blush even more but then he broke into a boyish grin and stepped closer, putting his hands on your cheeks and kissing you properly.

It didn’t matter to either of you if you both had morning breath, all you cared about was each other and getting to do this as much as you could before Oscar left to get back into the world of F1.

yourusername posted on their story

caption: my favourite breakfast spot + my favourite boy 🧡

╰ oscarpiastri: ❤️

yourusername posted on their instagram

liked by yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri, friend2, landonorris & others liked

got my film developed..finally 🫡

tagged: yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri, friend1, friend2

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friend1: omg these are so cute

╰ liked by yourusername

yourbestfriend: wait that pic of me is actually so cute, can you send me it 🥹

╰ yourusername: already did ❤️

oscarpiastri: im so lucky 🥰😍

╰ yourusername: brb blushing

╰ landonorris: who knew oscar had riz

╰ oscarpiastri: who let you here

╰ landonorris: y/n accepted my follow request..finally

╰ yourusername: sorry, takes me forever to do things 😆

yourusername posted on their story

caption: my favourite view 😏 @oscarpiastri

╰ oscarpiastri: youre my favourite everything 😏

╰ yourusername: real smooth..😆

oscarpiastri posted on their story

caption: i’ll miss you more than australia’s sunsets @yourusername

╰ yourusername: dont remind me that youre leaving soon

╰ yourusername: i need these next couple days not to fly by..

╰ oscarpiastri: i know :(

It was the day you and Oscar were most dreading, the day he had to leave Melbourne to get back to work. You had told him you would drive him to the airport, wanting to spend every minute you could with him before he left.

You made casual conversation on the drive over, not wanting to think about the fact you’d be doing long distance, not sure when you’d get to see each other next. You were going into your final year of your degree and would be in classes which meant you probably wouldn’t be able to attend the races.

Unfortunately you arrived at the airport faster than you hoped you would. You parked in the parking lot and got out of the vehicle once you turned the car off. You went to help Oscar with his bags “I got it” he told you, putting his backup on and then grabbing his suitcase handle with his one hand “Just hold my hand” he told you smiling and reaching to intertwine your fingers.

The two of you walked hand in hand towards the entrance. Because Oscar had some fame to his name, you were able to stay with him until he had to start boarding and then security would safely escort you back to your car, per request of Oscar himself. Luckily due to the time of day, there weren’t any fans that he could see but he didn’t want to risk it.

You sat in the waiting area for his flight to be called, you had your head resting on his shoulder “I’m gonna miss you so much” you told him softly “I know, I’m gonna miss you too” he expressed the same mutual feeling.

“I’ll be cheering you on from home for every race though” you added lifting your head up and looking at him, he smiled at your comment “Knowing youre watching is all the incentive I need to make sure I do good. I gotta make my girl proud” he said lifting your intertwined hands and giving them a kiss.

He could be such a hopeless romantic at times and it always made your stomach do cartwheels, you didn’t know how you got so lucky with Oscar.

Some time passed before his flight was called causing the two of you stand, forced to look at each other not wanting to say goodbye but knowing you had to.

“Go be a brilliant F1 driver” you told him, not wanting to say anything more or else you might cry “Come here” he said opening his arms, knowing you were doing your best not to cry.

It could be alot dating someone in Oscar’s field constantly having to say goodbye and not knowing when you’d be able to see each other next. You walked into his arms wrapping your arms around his waist as he wrapped his around you.

A moment passed before you pulled away, if he didn’t leave now, he’d miss his flight. “Text me when you land, I don’t care about the time difference” you told him “Of course” he told you as he picked up his backpack and you made your way to the doors to the plane.

After he gave you one final kiss on the lips, he turned and made his way through the doors heading for the plane. He wanted to turn around and see you one more time but he knew he’d never leave if he did so he kept walking straight.

You got walked back to your car, being sure to thank the security before you got in and put your keys in the engine. You waited till you were back home and wearing one of his hoodies to let a few tears fall.

It was crazy to you that someone you had only met a couple weeks prior had become someone so important to you and now you were crying over them leaving.

You didn’t know why you were reacting this way, you had been able to pack up and move across the world for school saying goodbye to family and friends. You had travelled, always making friends then saying goodbye. Goodbyes were something you had plenty of experience with, yet saying goodbye to Oscar was another level of difficult.

The more you thought about it, you realized he had become something you didn’t realize you were looking for, he had become your home and for the first time in your whole life, you were missing your home.

It was in this moment that you knew you didn't want to go another day without Oscar by your side. You knew you had to finish school but once you had your diploma, you'd be flying to Oscar and never leaving his side from there.

ahh i've been working on this one for awhile now so i hope you like it !! once again feel free to reblog or comment ur thoughts !! other than those notes, enjoy and talk soon ❤️

#ssprayberrythings talks #ssprayberrythings x formula one #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smau #x reader #f1 imagine #op81 #imagines #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #mclaren f1 #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine

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daysofyellowroses · 2 months

Text

sandwich

carmen berzatto x afab!reader | 7.9k | based on this wonderful request by @kpopgirlbtssvt (sincere apologies this took so long!) | 18+ minors dni | warnings: smut, mentions of abuse, shitty shitty behaviour, language

finally finally finally i am posting this! it was not intended to be so long but i couldn't bring myself to end it, then life and work got busy and long story short, here it is! i have more requests to get working on, but i have a week off from today so hopefully no more delays! 🌼💗🫶🏻

🐻

“I can do this, I can totally do this.”

You repeated the words to yourself over and over, looking at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was just a job interview, it wasn't like you were going into battle or something. Still, that thought didn't ease the knot in your stomach. Job interviews were always nerve-wracking, it was just the nature of them. You'd lost track of how many you'd been on, they all started to blur together. Some of the jobs weren't even really what you wanted, but you needed something new. Your notice was burning a hole in your pocket, just waiting to be handed in.

You stepped back from the mirror, taking a deep breath. Your outfit looked professional, you felt. A white shirt and navy pants, simple but effective. You forced yourself to smile, to try and feel more relaxed. The world wouldn't end, you still had a job, technically, had a roof over your head. A new roof, a new life. Now you just needed a new job and it would all fall into place.

Heading into your bedroom, you checked your phone to see which interview it was, your calendar flooded with notices. The latest was a hostess job for the Bear, a newly opened restaurant. You'd been a little surprised to get a call for an interview, while you had worked in a restaurant before it was a couple of years ago and you'd worked there for less than a year. Still, an interview was an interview, and you wouldn't be too down if you didn't get it.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you wondered if you'd gone to the right address. In theory it looked like a restaurant, but there was still a whole lot of construction work going on. You wondered how soon the soon-to-be-open was exactly. Heading inside, you raised a brow at how much work was being done, an interview on a construction site would be a new experience for sure.

After a moment, a blonde woman walked through one of the open doorways, picking her way across the floor to you. She seemed to be heavily pregnant, but it didn't stop her weaving through the room with ease.

“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting,” She smiled as she approached you. “I'm Natalie, one of the managers here. You must be my ten o'clock interview, come on in.”

She led you to a table that had been laid out how you imagined all the tables would eventually look, with its elegant wine glasses and luxurious napkins and cutlery. There were, you noticed, three chairs across the table from you, your heart beating a little faster. You didn't mind interviews but when there were three or four people talking to you at once it could be a little intense.

You gave her your details and placed your purse on the back of your chair, taking a deep breath.

“Great,” Natalie smiled, placing the copy of your resume that you had given her on the table. “I'm just waiting for-”

“I'm here,” A voice called from across the room. “Sorry I'm late.”

You looked over, finding a tall man in a dark suit walking over to the table. He looked about mid-40s, piercing blue,eyes, pretty attractive but not necessarily your type. Not that it mattered, you told yourself. Finding your boss attractive hadn't been great for you historically.

The man introduced himself and you did the same, sitting up a little as he sat down beside Natalie.

“Are Carm and Sydney coming to this one?” Natalie asked Richie, quietly. “They said they would.”

“Said they'd try,” Richie replied, looking over to you with a polite smile. “But let's get started shall we?”

“Absolutely.” You nodded with a smile, taking a deep breath.

“Well let's tell you a little bit about us,” Natalie smiled. “As you can see we're still in the renovation stage, but we're close to the end now. We were a sandwich shop before but now we're moving to a more high end operation, which we're all very excited about. It's a great team we have here, and we're looking forward to building on what we already have.”

“That sounds great,” You smiled, glancing down to the table for a moment to gather your thoughts before looking back up. “I'm used to working as part of a strong team, so that wouldn't be a problem.”

“Excellent,” Natalie nodded, looking at your resume for a moment before looking over to Richie. “Well Richie here is our front of house manager so I'll let him fill you in on what we would expect from you.”

Richie nodded, looking over to you and you felt your heart race a little. For good or bad you weren't sure, but you decided to roll with it.

“As Natalie said we're going to be a high end operation,” Richie began, his gaze burning into you. “What does that mean to you?”

You thought about it for a moment, adjusting the napkin in front of you before looking back at Richie.

“To me it means excellent food, a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere, and a strong focus on customer service.”

Richie was quiet for a moment and you found yourself questioning your answer.

“Good,” Richie nodded, sitting back a little. “Now..”

It was fifteen or so minutes later when the door to the restaurant opened. Richie and Natalie both glanced over and you paused what you were saying. After a moment they looked back at you and you kept going, a man about your age coming over to the table and sitting in the empty chair beside Natalie. He gave you a polite smile and you felt your heart race in a way you knew definitely wasn't good but in the best possible way.

“Apologies for my brother's lateness,” Natalie sighed softly, gesturing to the man beside her. “This is Carmy, he's the head chef.”

He smiled as he held his hand out to you and it took you a second to remember your own name. You shook his had, trying to ignore the spark that shot through you.

The rest of the interview felt like a blur, before you knew it you were saying your goodbyes and heading out. You had no idea if you had actually done well or not, with every other interview you'd had some idea but you were honestly clueless with this one.

It was a couple of days later when you got a phone call. You had just gotten out of the shower when your phone rang, you could hear it from your bedroom and quickly threw a towel around yourself before heading into your bedroom. You didn't have time to check the ID before answering your phone, clutching your towel around yourself.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sorry to call so early.”

You vaguely recognised the voice, running through possible options in your head before it dawned on you.

“Uh..no, no it's fine,” You nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Don't worry.”

“Great,” Carmy replied. “I wanted to thank you for coming in the other day, we had a lot of interviews..”

You took a deep breath as you braced yourself for rejection. It wouldn't be the worst thing, but it still always felt a little deflating to be told you weren't good enough.

“..and I wanted to let you know that we would love to have you on board, if you're still interested?”

Your heart flew into your mouth, your mind unable to process an answer for a moment.

“I..yes, yes I'm still interested,” You nodded, a smile breaking out on your face. “That's amazing, thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” Carmy's voice sounded low in your ear and you found yourself clutching your towel tighter. “I know you have to work out your notice in your current job but whenever you're free to start, we'll be here.”

“Oh, great,” You murmured, cursing yourself for sounding so dazed. “I'll hand my notice in today, and..I'll keep you updated. Thank you so much.”

“Don't mention it, I'll talk to you soon okay?”

“Okay,” You nodded, saying your goodbyes before ending the call and sitting on your bed for a while longer to process what had happened. It was a weight off your shoulders, of course, but you still had a nervous excitement about it.

The two weeks you had to finish out seemed to pass by in an instant. On your last day you were given a card and flowers, someone brought in a cake, and you found yourself wondering if anyone would even remember you in a week's time.

Then, before you knew it, you were getting ready to start your first shift at the Bear. It was the opening night, and you weren't sure if the nerves would ever end. The evening was all a blur, you felt like you were on autopilot, watching your own body in action. Richie took the helm much to your relief, and you just followed his lead. By the time you were putting your jacket on and getting ready to go home, you weren't sure you hadn't dreamed the whole thing.

The nerves really hit on your following shift. There wasn't the buzz of the opening night, the pressure that made you strangely calm. You spent a solid two hours getting ready, looking at yourself in the mirror for a ridiculously long time. Your dress felt too short, even with your dark tights. Your makeup felt like it was too much and not enough. Eventually you had to leave, and tried to push your insecurities aside before they drove you crazy.

You arrived at the restaurant just in time for the staff dinner, taking your seat and taking off your jacket. You felt too nervous to eat, even though the food looked incredible. Instead, you opted to take a sip of water, glancing up and finding Carmy looking at you. He looked away when you met his eyes and you slowly set your cup down, adjusting your dress under the table.

While you forced yourself to eat something, you looked over to Richie as he launched into a story, finding yourself relaxing slightly. You were sure you felt eyes on you, but when you glanced at Carmy he wasn't looking at you. After dinner, the nerves struck again as everyone got ready for the service. You hung back for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“Hey, feeling okay?”

You looked up and swallowed a breath as you saw Carmy walking over to you.

“Uh..yeah, yeah I'm good,” You nodded, clearing your throat. “Just the tiniest bit nervous. It's been a minute since I was in a job like this..I hope last night wasn't just a fluke.”

“It wasn't,” Carmy smiled, raising a brow. “Don't worry. You were great, really great. You can do this, just overthink it, alright?”

“Alright,” You smiled, feeling the knot in your stomach loosen slightly. “I won't.”

Service actually went well, at least for a while. You put on a mask of confidence and found yourself feeling better about your abilities as the evening went on. Until, that is, you were in the kitchen explaining an order update for a table when Richie burst in with a face like thunder and your stomach dropped.

“Hey,” He looked over to you and you already wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

“Did you seat table nine?”

“I..yes, I did,” You nodded, wondering what exactly the problem was, nothing springing to mind. “Why? Should I..not have?”

Richie sighed and ran his hand over his face, while you felt like you were back in school about to be ripped apart by a teacher.

“You seated them,” Richie nodded, resting his hands on his hips. “Despite the fact that table nine is reserved for seven thirty, did you just decide not to do your job?”

“I..I'm so sorry,” You insisted, holding your hands up. “It was a mistake, I take complete responsibility for it, I'm so sorry.”

“You should be,” Richie sighed, shaking his head. “You made the mess, you clean it up. I can't fucking believe this.”

“I..” You stopped yourself as Richie held his hand up, trying to hold back your tears and cursing yourself for being so damn overly sensitive.

“No, you just need to stop,” Richie muttered. “I gotta think.”

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, looking over your shoulder as you felt a hand on your back.

“Don't worry,” Carmy murmured softly, meeting your eyes. “he's just a drama queen. You can do this, don't panic.”

You felt more eyes on you, some of the other chefs looking at you with surprise before they got back to work.

“Alright,” You nodded, taking a deep breath before looking back at Richie.

“I'll handle it.”

You left the kitchen, holding your head up high and leaving the mask aside.

After service was over, you slipped out to the back and sat on a low wall before pulling a back of cigarettes from your purse. A moment later you let out a long exhale and felt your body relax.

“Mind if I bum one of those?”

“Of course,” You smiled, holding the packet out to Carmy as he walked towards you. “Go for it.”

“Thanks,” Carmy nodded, taking the pack. “Didn't have you pegged as a smoker. No offense.”

“None taken,” You smiled, wrapping your arm around yourself. “I don't smoke so much anymore, just after a tough day. Stress reliever.”

Carmy nodded as he lit up a cigarette, handing you back the packet. “I get you. But I should warn you this job will have you back smoking full time, nature of it and all.”

You nodded as you took a drag of your cigarette, watching Carmy sit down beside you.

“Thanks for the heads up..and I'm sorry again for tonight.”

Carmy shook his head, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.

“Don't apologize, honestly. It was an honest mistake, it all got resolved. Richie just needs to have a moment now and then. He'll apologize in a day or two.”

“Can't wait,” You laughed softly, flicking your cigarette by your feet. “I really thought he was gonna kill me at one point. If I'm still here in a month I'll be amazed.”

“You'll still be here,” Carmy nudged you gently. “If I have my way anyway. Don't let Richie get in your head. You're good at what you do, embrace it.”

“Are you a chef or a life coach?” You teased, smiling to yourself. “I just get a little too in my head sometimes, overthink things.”

“Well join the club,” Carmy laughed softly as he shook his head. “We're all guilty of that. You just gotta push past it, I guess.”

“Hm, has that ever worked for you?” You asked, looking over to Carmy.

“Honestly?” Carmy met your gaze, his cigarette between his lips and his eyes sincere. “Not even once.”

“Hm, I suspected as much,” You smiled, looking away. “easier said than done, right?”

“Right,” Carmy murmured. “So maybe we just tell each other when we're overthinking. Get the thoughts out.”

“That sounds great, in theory,” You raised a brow, looking up for a moment with a smile. “Guess we'll just have to see how it goes in practice.”

A month later, you had started to settle into your role more, getting more comfortable and confident. There were a couple of slip ups here and there, but you always seemed to have Carmy in your corner. You got better at handling problems, and gradually started to build a bond with Richie, who you grew a soft spot for.

One particular Saturday, there was a plan to go for drinks after work. You hadn't been planning to go, but figured it would be nice to spend some time with everyone outside of work, in your normal clothes and without only being able to speak in short bursts.

Well, you and Carmy did tend to spend some time after work having a cigarette, sometimes it was twenty minutes, sometimes it was an hour. At first you would just talk about work, about the night's service, any annoying customers, but gradually you started to learn more. You found that you enjoyed just listening to him talk, when he would tell you little snippets of his life. It was never too much, too detailed, but enough for you to piece together a more clear picture of his life. You shared some details of your life, never anything too much, but enough that he seemed interested, asking you more and more questions.

After service that Saturday, you felt like you could sleep for a week but everyone else's excitement gave you a buzz. You got changed in the bathroom, throwing on a pair of dark jeans and a simple red velvet top, stuffing your hostess dress into your bag. You felt more than ready for a drink, but there was one thing you had to do first.

“Didn't think you were coming out tonight.”

“For a drink or a smoke?” You asked, walking over to the wall and sitting beside Carmy. He was wearing jeans and a sweater but when you were so used to seeing him in his whites it made a difference.

“Either,” Carmy handed you a pack of cigarettes. “Not complaining though.”

“Didn't think you would,” You smiled, plucking a cigarette from the pack. “I told Syd I'd head to the bar in a few, they're all gonna go on ahead. Richie said first round on him.”

“I'll believe that when I see it,” Carmy scoffed, shaking his head. “What's your poison?”

“Arsenic,” You replied, looking over to Carm with a grin. “Ask an old question and get an old answer.”

“Alright, fair,” Carmy nodded, a smile on his face. “if I was to give you a drink right now what would you have?”

“Right now?” You looked up for a moment, thinking about it.

“Mm..probably like a whiskey sour.”

“You're such an old man,” Carm laughed as you rolled your eyes. “A whiskey sour?”

“It's a classic,” You lightly swatted his arm. “Don't knock it. We can't all be cool bros who drink fucking beer.”

“I never said I was having a beer,” Carmy raised a brow, holding his hand over his heart. “You're really gonna slap me with the bro label?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, taking a drag on your cigarette before looking over to Carm with a grin. “It's an old man's prerogative.”

You and Carm ended up arriving at the bar after everyone else had already finished half their first drinks. One of you had suggested walking to the bar, it didn't seem so far away at the time. On the way you'd stopped to get cigarettes, arguing over who was paying, Carmy beating you to the card machine by a split second.

The bar felt warm when you walked in, Carm's hand on your back as you removed your jacket not helping. He told you he'd order the drinks, disappearing before you could offer your card.

You joined the others, sitting down beside Richie and laughing as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rested his head on yours. By the time Carmy came over with your drinks you were caught up in Syds's story, taking a moment before looking over to Carm and mouthing a ‘thank you’.

As the night went on, you weren't sure how many drinks you had actually had, between your trips to the bar more glasses were placed in front of you, everyone forgetting who they actually owed. In the latest bar you'd all ended up in, you leaned against Carmy's shoulder, his arm around yours.

“Oh shit,” You heard Richie exclaim, slowly dragging your gaze over to him.

“They got karaoke!”

“Karaoke?” You grinned, looking up at Carmy. “Oh wait, you're probably too cool for that, huh bro?”

“Shut up,” Carmy rolled his eyes with a smile, lightly squeezing your shoulder. “We can't all get up and belt out Sinatra.”

“Hey,” You raised a brow. “My drinks may be old but my music taste is not. Get me the sight up sheet.”

The lights of the stage felt bright and hot on your already warm skin, but you felt a rush of adrenaline as everyone cheered and your eyes met Carm's.

“Hey,” You smiled, giving a little wave and trying not to cringe at the sound of your voice in the microphone. “I'm gonna sing a song that I love, and hope I don't butcher it entirely.”

You laughed softly as the Bear crowd cheered, someone giving you a whistle. The alcohol-induced confidence took over you as the music started, and you decided to just embrace the moment as you held the microphone.

‘All the lights in Miami begin to gleam

Ruby, blue and green, neon too

Everything looks better from above my king

Like aquamarine, ocean's blue

Ah ah ah ah

Cacciatore

La da da da da

Limousines

Ah ah ah ah

Ciao amore

La da da da da

Soft ice cream’

Any lingering nerves you had disappeared when you looked over to your table and heard cheers, your eyes meeting Carmy's for a moment. His gaze was totally focused on you, your heart beating faster as you continued the song, feeling a little more confident as you kept your gaze on him.

‘Catch me if you can

Working on my tan

Salvatore

Dying by the hand

Of a foreign man

Happily

Calling out my name

In the summer rain

Ciao amore

Salvatore can wait

Now it's time to eat

Soft ice cream’

You felt like you were in a daze as the song ended, smiling when there was a round of applause and making your way back to the table. Richie squeezed your shoulder and went to get you a drink, which you knew would have you fully committing to a hangover but you didn't care.

“You were incredible,” Carmy whispered in your ear, low and warm. “I had no idea you could sing.”

“Really?” You grinned, turning your head and meeting his eyes. “Well I guess I'm just full of surprises.”

A couple of hours later, you found yourself trying not to fall asleep in the back of an Uber, your head on Carmy's shoulder. You were drunk, but not so much that you had lost all sense of yourself. Instead you felt pleasantly buzzed and sleepy, wanting to fall into your bed and stay there forever.

“We're here,” Carm gently squeezed your shoulder, dragging you from your drifting thoughts. “Let's go.”

You let him help you out of the car, your arm linked with his as he led you to the door of your building. It took a minute to remember the code to the door, but you got there in the end, laughing to yourself when it worked.

“Now I just need to remember what number my apartment is,” You sighed as you pushed the button for the elevator, grinning as Carmy gave you a deadpan look. “Kidding, don't worry.”

When you reached your front door, you expected Carmy to give a polite excuse and leave, even though that was the last thing you wanted him to do. When he didn't, you tried not to look too pleased, holding the door open for him and taking a deep breath.

“Where's your kitchen?” Carm asked, turning to you as you closed the door. “I'll get you some water.”

“Just through there,” You smiled, gesturing to the door on your left. “I'm gonna go change.”

You went into your bedroom, leaving the door open and flicking on the light. You peeled off your clothes and dropped them into/close enough to the laundry hamper before heading to the chest of drawers and pulling open a drawer. You rifled through until you found a pair of simple blue pajamas, pulling on the t-shirt then the shorts.

When you turned around Carm was heading through the door, glancing around the room before placing the glass of water on your nightstand. He turned to look at you and you felt your heart leap from your chest.

“Stay,” You asked, or rather requested, feeling a little embarrassed by your firmness. “I mean..if you want, you can stay. It's pretty late.”

“Oh, uh..okay,” Carmy nodded, and you found yourself relaxing a little. “Sure. I can crash on the couch.”

“Don't be stupid,” You smiled, gesturing to your double, albeit a small double, bed. “It's alright, I don't bite.”

Carm looked concerned for a moment before he laughed and shook his head.

“Ah what the hell. It's one night.”

“Don't sound too offended to share my bed,” You teased, walking over to the nightstand and picking up the glass. “Not just anyone gets that privilege.”

“I'm flattered,” Carm laughed softly, rubbing his neck. “Just don't want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You couldn't if you tried,” You insisted, gently touching his arm before sitting down on your bed. “Now hurry up, I'm exhausted.”

A couple of moments later, Carm was down to his shorts, and you tried not to stare. He turned out the light before you could hear him crossing the room. You slipped under the covers, your breath catching as you felt him get in beside you.

“Comfortable?” You asked, turning onto your side and resting your hand under your pillow.

“Yeah,” Carmy nodded, laying on his back. You could just about make him out in the dark, the lingering scent of his cologne, cigarettes and beer feeling heady and desirable. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” You murmured softly, taking a breath. “tonight was really fun..I can't really remember the last time I had a night out.”

“Me too,” Carm sighed softly, the mattress dipping slightly as he turned to face you. “I'll pay for it tomorrow, I feel the hangover creeping over the horizon.”

“That's the downside to getting older,” You shrugged softly. “You start to feel hungover before you've even gone to sleep.”

“Well you would know,” Carm retorted. “You old, old man.”

You gasped and reached out to lightly swat his arm, smiling as he laughed.

“That is uncalled for. I'm old, not old old.”

“Is there a difference?” Carm asked, his voice dropping low as he nestled into the pillow.

“Not really,” You murmured softly, your hand resting on the gap in the mattress. “But I stand by my actions.”

“Never had you pegged as violent,” Carm murmured, his hand resting close to yours. “Learning so much about you.”

“Hey I can't give away all my secrets,” You smiled softly, moving your hand ever so slightly closer to his. “I like being a little mysterious.”

“I like that,” Carmy laughed softly, his hand moving to lay gently on top of yours. “But I like everything about you so..hardly a surprise.”

You were quiet for a moment, a tired smile forming on your face.

“I like everything about you too,” You murmured softly, feeling like you could see Carm clearly even in the darkness.

“Hardly a surprise.”

He let out a gentle laugh, his thumb gently stroking over your hand. You felt your heart fly into your mouth, like you were suddenly wide awake and able to see through the alcohol-induced haze.

“We should get some sleep.”

The words had your heart dropping back into your stomach, your mouth turning dry.

“Uh..yeah, yeah we should,” You murmured, closing your eyes and trying not to feel so disappointed. “Sweet dreams.”

Before you knew it the mattress had dipped again, and his hand was gone from yours.

Carmy was already gone when you woke up the next morning, and you decided to try and put the memories of his hand on yours to rest.

For the next week at work, you felt like you weren't really yourself. Maybe it was subconscious, but you found yourself avoiding Carmy where possible. You sat at the opposite end of the table to him at family dinner, you stopped going for a smoke after work, and only really interacted with him in a professional manner. You could see he was confused by the change, and you hoped he would understand. In time you'd be like you were, you just needed time for your feelings to dissolve.

The following Saturday, you felt like you were going through the motions at work, flicking the customer service switch on when you needed to. Any time you'd gone into the kitchen Carm had looked at you with a smile and you had forced yourself to look away, guilt eating away at you.

Then it happened.

The worst possible situation you could find yourself in.

The front door had opened and you looked up from the reservations list to greet the latest visitors, your heart sinking as you saw who it was.

Your ex-boyfriend, someone you had very carefully avoided for months was walking towards you with a woman holding onto his arm and giggling. She looked beautiful, was probably a decent, kind person. You wondered how long it would be before she realized who exactly she was dating.

It took every ounce of self control you had to stay professional, to smile and greet the pair. The reservation was under her name, and you knew it was a purposely chosen move. He lived on the other side of town, there was no way he would just happen to come to the Bear if you didn't work there, you knew it.

After taking them to their table, you found Richie and told him you needed a moment, which he granted you. You went to the bathroom and locked yourself in a cubicle, leaning against the door.

He was out there, you couldn't avoid him. You imagined Richie getting their drinks, finding them to be a charming, loved up couple. Because your ex was great at making people think that. He was charming and witty and romantic, on the surface. Until you were alone with him.

You made your way back out to the floor, trying to focus on work. When you had to go into the kitchen you felt overwhelmed by the heat, the smells, the voices coming from every direction. You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath. A moment later, you felt a hand on your back, your eyes opening and your heart calming as you met Carmy's gaze.

“Hey,” He smiled softly, raising a brow. “You good?”

“Yeah,” You nodded softly, wanting to touch his arm to ground yourself but forcing yourself not to. “I'm good.”

Back on the floor, you felt like you were in a daze. Any time you had to go to your ex's table it was like torture. He was perfectly polite, didn't give any indication he knew you, but you could feel his eyes burning into you.

After you took another small break to compose yourself, you left the bathroom and let out a gasp as you found your ex in the vestibule. You wanted to run to the door, go back to the floor. As you went to leave however, he grabbed your wrist, and you wanted to scream.

“Just gonna leave without saying hello properly?”

“Let me go,” You snapped, looking back at him and trying to pull your wrist free from his grasp. “Now.”

“What's the rush?” Your ex grinned, and you felt sick. “Let's have a little catch up. This where you been since you ran off?”

“I said let me go,” You repeated, gasping when your ex stepped forward and shoved you against the wall. He kept his hand on your wrist, his other hand resting on the wall by your head.

“Not so hasty hm?” Your ex smiled, tilting his head. “I think you owe me an explanation.”

“I don't owe you anything!” You snapped, trying to push him away and failing. “Get off me or I'll scream.”

“Oh try it,” Your ex laughed. “Your theatrics never worked before and they won't work now. “Now, maybe you want to tell me why you left? I never did get an explanation, did I?”

You opened your mouth to scream, the sound immediately muffled as your ex's hand clamped over your mouth, a furious look in his eyes.

“Don't you fucking dare,” He snapped, his hand pressing harder. “Nobody disrespect me, certainly not you. Look at you, you're pathetic.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, panic setting in. You knew what he was capable of, and you wouldn't be able to go back onto the floor if he lost control and left bruises.

The main door began to push open, your ex immediately stepping back from you while you tried to quickly compose yourself. You felt a sense of relief when Richie walked in, your heart racing as you spotted Carmy walk in behind him.

“Everything okay?” Richie asked, looking over to you. “You were gone a while,” He looked over to your ex, skeptically, before looking back to you. “Just wanted to see if you were good to get back out.”

“Yes,” You nodded, taking a deep breath and avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. “Apologies, chef. I'll head back out.”

“She will in a second,” Your ex smiled, reaching out to grab your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin. “We're old friends, just catching up.”

“Well I have to go,” You murmured, trying to subtly free yourself and feeling fresh tears well up as your ex tightened his grip. “So..”

“Right,” Richie nodded, his eyes on your ex while you briefly met Carmy's gaze. “I'll escort you back to your table, sir.”

“Yeah, in a minute,” Your ex nodded, pulling you closer to him. “We just have some things to discuss.”

“Please don't do this,” You muttered, tears filling your vision, trying to pull your wrist free as your ex grabbed your arm firmly.

“Hey,” You heard Carmy's voice and looked down at the ground, trying to compose yourself. “I need my staff to get back to work, and I need you to get the fuck out of my restaurant.”

“Fuck yes cousin,” Richie nodded. “He's out.”

“I don't think so,” Your ex laughed, squeezing your arm harder. “I'm a paying customer, show some respect.”

“Show some respect?” Carmy repeated, a harsh edge in his voice. “I'm giving you a chance to leave quietly, I suggest you take it.”

“Or what?” Your ex smirked, stepping closer to you. “I'll leave when I want. Like I said, we're catching up.”

“That's it,” Carmy sighed, stepping closer. “Get the fuck out of my restaurant right now before I have you forcibly removed.”

You let out a gasp as you were pushed back against the wall, everything happening in a blur. You could hear Carm and Richie saying something as they grabbed your ex and pulled him off you. Richie hauled him outside before Carmy's hand was in yours, guiding you out into the restaurant and through the kitchen, the two of you finally ending up in his office.

“Sit down,” Carm gestured to the desk chair. “I'll go get you some water.”

“No,” You insisted, reaching out to touch his arm. “Please. Don't leave me alone.”

Carm was quiet for a moment before he nodded, stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you. You buried your face in his neck, clinging to him as you tried to stop your tears to no avail.

You weren't sure how much time passed, but before you knew it it was closing time. You assured Carm you were okay before you went to help Richie out front, giving him a nod as he gave you a concerned look.

When it came time to leave, you clutched your keys tightly in your hand, making your way to your car and taking a deep breath. You felt like you couldn't breathe properly until you arrived back home and checked every room. Your ex didn't know where you lived, but it didn't stop you feeling a little paranoid.

After getting ready for bed, you decided to stay up a little longer, settling on the couch to watch a movie. While you were scrolling through Netflix your phone rang, and the brief panic that hit you subsided when you saw it was Carmy calling you.

“Hey,” You smiled softly as you answered, picking up one of the cushions and holding it against you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, all good,” Carm replied, and you could swear you heard traffic in the background. “Could you let me into your building? I didn't want to buzz, just in case.”

“Oh,” You glanced to the door before slowly standing up. “Uh..yeah, yeah just give me a second.”

You set the cushion down and walked to the door, pushing the button to open the door.

“Come on up, I'll see you in a second.”

You ended the call, taking a step back from the door and clutching your phone. When there was a knock at your door you took a second before opening it.

“Hey, come in,” You stepped aside, giving a quick glance out to the hall before closing the door and turning to Carmy.

“Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Of course,” Carm nodded, rubbing his cheek. “I uh..I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was going to offer you ride home but I thought I might be being too much and you would be uncomfortable which is fair then I couldn't stop thinking about you and I thought I should-”

You held up your hand with a smile, tilting your head slightly.

“I'm glad you're here. I probably would have ended up calling you anyway so..it's fine. I'm just trying to find a movie, I'm open to suggestions.”

An hour later, you were sitting on the couch with your head on Carm's shoulder, his arm around your waist. You were only half focused on the movie, too busy enjoying Carm's presence after isolating yourself for a week. Cuddling up to him wouldn't help you dissolve your feelings but you were willing to overlook that, given recent events.

“Damn,” Carm murmured softly, his hand gently stroking your waist. “I guess they'll have to take down the government after all.”

“What?” You raised a brow, looking over to him.

“I knew you weren't paying attention,” Carmy laughed softly, looking at you with a grin.

“Oh shut up,” You rolled your eyes playfully. “it's not my fault it can't hold my attention. Got other things on my mind.”

“Yeah,” Carm nodded, clearing his throat and looking up for a moment. “I uh..I wanted to ask, how are you feeling after..after tonight?”

You thought about it for a moment, looking over to the TV and letting out a soft sigh.

“I feel like it was some kind of surreal dream. I don't hear so much as a whisper for months, almost a year, then suddenly he's just there..but I really appreciate what you did,” You looked back to Carmy, gently touching his arm. “I hate that you had to get involved in my drama but..thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” Carm looked back to you. “I wasn't going to stand back and let it happen. You don't deserve to be treated like that. You deserve..I don't know, the universe.”

“The universe?” You repeated, smiling softly. “That's a lot to handle but..if I'm deserving of it I guess I'll learn to handle the responsibility.”

“That's my girl,” Carm smiled, and you felt a knot twist in your stomach at how much the words made your heart leap. “You deserve it and more.”

“Could you..could you not say that?” You murmured softly, taking a deep breath and feeling guilty when Carm immediately looked like he'd regretted everything he'd ever done.

“It wasn't bad, I just..I want you to say those things but I also don't because it's just going to give me more feelings for you and I really can't even handle the ones I already have so..”

“You have feelings for me,” Carm murmured softly, and you weren't sure whether it was a question or a statement, looking away from him. “I..I had no idea. I mean, I didn't think you hated me but..you were so distant this week I thought I'd done something to you.”

“No, never,” You insisted, trying not to cry at how badly you felt you were handling the situation. “I just thought I could get rid of my feelings if I wasn't around you so much, that's all.”

“Why didn't you just tell me?” Carm asked softly, his hand on your waist feeling more prominent. “Am I so unapproachable? Oh god, am I unapproachable? That's it isn't it? You thought I would like flip out or something, and I swear I never would, not at you, ever.”

“I know,” You nodded, looking back at him. “I just..I didn't want to make things awkward. I'm not in high school, I don't want to act like I am. I may as well have gotten Syd to pass you a note from me, check the box if you like me kinda vibe.”

“Don't you want to know if I would have ticked the box?” Carm asked, his tone gentle. “Because I would have. Every time.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head and looking up.

“Damn, guess I should have sent you the none then hm?”

“Well there's still time,” Carm smiled as you looked back at him. “Though I can't guarantee Syd wouldn't just chuck it in the trash. You know when you started she told me not to fall in love with you because the restaurant needs you more than I do?”

“Good thing you didn't then,” You smiled, leaning in a little closer and resting your hand on Carm's cheek. “I can stay.”

You leaned in and closed the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He hesitated for a moment before kissing you back, surging forward.

Your arms wrapped around Carm's neck as he eased you onto your back, the kiss deepening. All the stress of the evening melted away as you felt Carm touch you carefully, smiling into the kiss as you reached for the hem of his white t-shirt and tugged it up.

It didn't like long to have Carm completely stripped, a frown on his face as he looked at you.

“Well this isn't a fair trade.”

“No?” You smiled, picking at your pajama top. “ Well I'm not stopping you leveling the field.”

It took a little longer for you to be stripped, your breath catching in your throat as Carm took his time removing your pajamas, leaving a trail of kisses on your skin as he did. You felt exposed, laying on the couch in your deeply unsexy mismatched bra and panties, but in the most wonderful way.

“Still not quite even,” You smiled softly, reaching out to gently stroke Carm's cheek and beaming when he leaned down to kiss you, his hand gripping your waist.

“You're right,” Carm murmured softly, pulling back and meeting your eyes. “It's not fair.”

He sat back, his hand slowly moving down to grip the waistband of your panties. You kept your eyes on him as he slowly peeled them down your thighs, stopping after a moment.

“Close enough.” He grinned,his hands moving to your thighs and lifting them up. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him move between your legs, closing your eyes as he slowly spread your legs, feeling the material of your panties rub against your leg.

“Oh god,” You breathed as you felt Carm lick a stripe along your already soaked folds, his hands gripping your thighs and holding you in place. His movements were achingly slow as he licked you, one of his hands slowly moving along your thigh.

It had been a long while since you'd felt so good, a wave slowly building in your stomach. Any urge to beg for more was dissolved as you felt Carm's finger gently sweep across your entrance, his tongue swirling your clit. You couldn't focus on anything, your hand moving to his curls as he eased his finger into your warm entrance, your eyes clenching shut as moans tumbled from your lips.

By the time he added a second finger you felt like you were ready to fall apart, his tongue moving slowly but precisely, exactly where you needed without having to tell him.

“Oh, fuck,” You moaned as you felt yourself get closer to the edge, your free hand clamping over your forehead. “Please..I..ohh my god..”

You felt your eyes roll back into your head, your breath catching in your throat as you came, feeling like you could see stars.

You wasted no time in pulling Carm up to you, tasting yourself on his lips and letting out a moan at the sensation. He pulled at your bra straps, tugging down your bra and rolling your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Please,” You murmured against his lips, your forehead hot against his. “Fuck me, now, please..”

“Are you sure?” Carm asked, giving you another kiss as he moved his hand down between your legs, a moan escaping you as he touched your sensitive pussy.

“We can go to your bed, or wait, or..”

“Carm,” You breathed, opening your eyes and looking at him. “Please..I can't wait. I'm on the pill, it's fine, just..please.”

He met your gaze, a look in his eyes you hadn't seen before that had you soaked even more instantly.

“Use your words,” He murmured softly, two fingers pushing back into you as you moaned. “What does my girl want?”

“Oh god,” You groaned, wanting to stay in the moment forever. “I want..I want you to fuck me, now.”

“Anything my girl wants,” Carm grinned, slowly easing his fingers out of you and replacing them with his thick cock, another moan escaping you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs hooked around his waist, wanting him as close as possible.

You felt like everything fell away around you as Carm moved slowly, getting you used to the feel of him, before he was pulling you up into his lap, his lips wrapping around your hard nipple as your nails dug into your shoulders, his hands on your waist encouraging you to set the pace.

By the time the two of you were laying on the couch, catching your breath with your arms lazily draped around each other, you wondered when you'd last been so unbearably happy.

“I'll understand if you immediately run away when I say this,” You looked over to Carm with a smile. “But.

I love you.”

He looked over to you, a wide smile on his face as he moved closer, his arm wrapping firmly around your waist.

“I love you too. Which is a shame, I guess. Gotta find a new hostess now.”

“Yeah, sucks to be you,” You grinned, moving your hand into Carm's hair. “Though before you fire me could you help me fulfill this little fantasy I have of fucking my boss at work?”

“I guess I could,” Carm grinned, leaning in to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Let's get in some more practice shall we?”

#the bear #the bear 🐻#the bear fic #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #request #we got there eventually

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shewrites7 · 9 months

Text

The First Step

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary - The first thing you do when you get back to your hometown of Chicago is pay Carmen, your oldest friend and maybe more than that, a visit at The Beef. When you land yourself a job there, the more he sees of you, the more he seems to push you away for reasons he isn't yet brave enough to tell you, even if all he wants is to be with you. But if he'd ever known you, he'd know that you weren't going to back down without a fight.

type - one shot (its a long one)

word count [16.6k]

tags: Carmy Berzatto x f!reader, friends to lovers, pining, slight miscommunication, a little angst, "stop pushing me away", hurt/comfort, and new promises.

warnings: swearing, mentions of grief/death, panic attack

a/n: check this out also on my ao3! <33

Carmen was tired, to say the least. He'd been working himself to the bone every damn day for the past few months, trying to get The Beef to a good, stable place. Somehow, as time went by, he'd only managed to dig himself a deeper grave. With the money they owed to Cicero, he knew, deep down, that the restaurant was, for lack of a better word, fucked.

But he kept holding on. He couldn't let go of it. He'd wonder, in the depths of night, why he was fighting so hard for this place when he could easily sell it to Cicero. If, maybe, he was holding onto someone. He didn't amuse the thought. He physically couldn't.

So he threw himself deeper into his work. Deeper into making The Beef a reputable place, with a professional working staff and high-quality food. It didn't matter that the others looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. He didn't have the time to worry about that. He didn't have time for much of anything, which is why Sydney had been pushing for new hires. She'd said that they needed more hands in the kitchen, more workers up front, more of everything. They should be desperate.

That's why she'd spent hours putting up posters for new hires on what felt like practically every block of Chicago within a mile radius from the restaurant. And that's why you'd happened to stumble upon one of them while walking to a favorite pizza place of yours that you'd loved as a kid. It was one of the first things you'd planned on doing ever since you'd gotten back into the city. That and meeting up with some old friends who you'd missed with an ache in your chest. So, seeing the poster clinging to the utility pole saying that The Beef was hiring had your heart skip a little beat at the prospect of not only getting a job but seeing the people who had basically been your family growing up again.

It was a Friday morning when you'd stopped by The Beef, the rusted white sign sticking out like a sore thumb. A rush of aromas wafted against your nose when you walked in, and the front door made a jingling sound that was almost nostalgic.

No one was at the front register. In fact, you couldn't see anyone at all, only hear some muffled voices coming from the kitchen in the back. The voices grew louder as seconds went by, and you could tell they were shouts. The kitchen door then flew open, finally revealing the argument going on between two people, one being an unfamiliar woman in an apron, and the other being none other than Richie Jerimovich.

"Richie, I swear to God-"

"I already told you," came the booming voice of Richie, neither of them noticing your presence at the door. "Your foo foo plans for this place are not gonna fly, Sweetheart!"

With the way Richie was talking to her, you could see the woman's patience wearing thin as she rested a hand on her temple with shut eyes as he carried on. It was only when she reopened her eyes a few moments later that she noticed your presence.

"Hi," you said, making your way over to her. "I saw your poster, the one about looking for new hires-"

"Right, right." She offered a strained smile, stress seeming to stay with her. "I'm Sydney, you must be one of the job applicants?"

"Yeah, I'm-"

"A job applicant?" Richie's voice boomed through the room, his voice always projecting ten times louder than need be. You had to admit, you missed it. "F that bullshit, that's fucking Mars Bar!"

Sydney's eyebrows lowered at the shouted nickname, the one that the Berzattos had gifted you years ago after your favorite candy as a kid. You granted Richie a smile, him finally noticing you. "Nice to see you too, Richie."

He marched around the counter to engulf you in a bear-like hug that had you letting out a chuckled gasp from the impact, arms wrapping tightly around your back. He let go in a beat and slammed his hands down on the counter in excitement, always loud.

"Just wait till Carmy hears about his favorite girl being back, I swear to God."

Something fluttered through you at the mention of that name. Carmen's name. With a whirlwind of thoughts sifting through your mind, you almost missed the other name that Richie had called you, aside from Mars Bar. Carmy's favorite girl.

-----

Richie had barged into the kitchen with full vigor, slamming open the swinging door dangerously close to a nearby Tina.

"Cousin!" He moved through the different chefs' stations until he got to Carmen's, who was wrapped up in prepping and quite frankly had learned to tune out the sound of Richie's yelling for his own health. "Yo, Cousin!"

Richie boisterously grabbed a hold of Carmen's shoulders, rocking him a little and moving his hand that wielded a knife, cutting diagonally into beef he'd been pre-slicing.

"Shit," Carmen cursed, irritation forming. "What the hell is it, Cousin?"

Richie just laughed, a mind never paid to Carmen's annoyance. "Yea, you're pissed at me now, Carmy, but you're gonna think I'm pulling your dick when I tell you who's at the fucking register right now."

With a forever-present dull headache, Carmen sighed and shifted his focus to him, putting down his knife on the counter. He gestured a hand out to him. "Who's at the register, Rich-"

"The fucking love of your life, that's who!"

Richie gave Carmen a playful punch in the arm, but he remained unphased, a frown etched on his features. "See, what the fuck are you talking about? I don't have a love of my-"

"Two words, Cousin. Mars Bar."

Richie was right. Those two words really did do something to him.

"She- ... she's here?"

He rubbed his jaw, brain short-circuiting for a second as he tried to make sense of Richie's words. His eyes bore into Richie's never-serious ones, trying to grasp onto whether or not he was, just this one time. If he was messing with him, he didn't think he'd be able to take it.

"Yes, bro!" Yelled Richie, patting him on the back. "I swear to you. She's here, and hot as balls, too."

He squinted his eyes at him with a twinge of disgust, slightly shoving him to the side to get towards the door. He still didn't know if he believed it. You'd been traveling abroad on some grant that he, to be honest, didn't know much about. But you were doing great things. He couldn't guess why you'd come back to The Beef, of all places.

When he saw you through the window, he was lucky he was hidden behind the safety of the kitchen door because he couldn't control the way his body and mind froze at the sight of you. He took in the way your smile beamed out into the room as you spoke with Sydney, warm and unignorable, and he could've sworn something changed in the chemical makeup of his brain. Something that had his eyes widening and his feet planted in their place.

"What'd I tell you?" Richie's voice from behind him knocked him out of his trance. There was a smug, amused edge to his voice. "Now go and talk to her."

Carmen put a hand out, shooing him away. "I will. I just," he stopped, trailing off as he took in the way you truly seemed to glow after all the time spent away. He liked how it looked on you.

"Aww, don't tell me you're nervous now, Carm." Richie put his arms on Carmen's shoulders.

"Shut the fuck up." He shoved Richie off of him with a grimace, but his eyes never left you, jaw clenching as he followed your movements. "I'm not."

The pit in his stomach told him otherwise. He ignored the feeling, determined, and took in a breath before opening the kitchen door to the front of the restaurant, to where you stood.

At the sound of the door swinging open you finally turned your attention to him, lips coming to part with a subtle inhale that somehow left you feeling breathless.

"Carmen." You said his name with a grin, eyes lighting up, heart picking up its pace in your chest. You ran over for a quick, thoughtless hug that left his body partly on fire when you pulled away just as fast.

"Mars Bar." He uttered the old nickname endearingly, his voice cracking at the end of his words for some reason. He cleared his throat. "You're uh- you're here. In Chicago."

"Woah," Richie interrupted, coming in from behind, boisterous. "We've got a genius in The Beef, everybody!"

Sydney snorted from somewhere in the distance, but you couldn't even laugh because you'd been too busy staring at the way Carmen ran his hand through his golden hair that had been unruly since you were practically kids and still was.

"Yeah," you breathed, cringing at how awkward your voice sounded to your own ears. "I'm here."

The two of you held onto each other's gazes for a beat too long, scanning over the other wordlessly, taking in the changes that the years apart had brought.

"Well, uh," Carmen started, licking his lip to find strings of coherent words. "Do you wanna come into the office? Catch up?"

You nodded with a pleased tug of your lips. "Yeah, sure Carmen."

He nodded too and led the way, arm delicately resting on your upper back for a second in a way that left his fingertips buzzing, alive.

You entered the room after he did, the desk and walls littered with papers and sticky notes of different colors, an overload to the senses. It was stuffy, even with the door left open.

Before he turned to face you, he clumsily sorted some papers that'd been sitting on a wooden chair into stacks and pushed them onto the highest shelf above his desk so you could sit down, his white t-shirt slightly tugging upwards as he reached. Your eyes subtly followed the movement, eyes glancing steadily over a part of his lower abdomen that you felt alarmed at even sneaking a peak. That and the muscles that showed clearly from the short sleeves of his shirt.

God, you'd only been back in Chicago for a few days and your mind was already doing that thing it always did when you were around Carmen, like it didn't have the ability to think straight or act rationally when he was around.

"So, uh," Carmen started, turning his focus back to being one hundred percent on you. It became hard to concentrate when he did that, because he had the most piercing blue eyes you'd ever seen and you found over the years that they'd always had more than just one emotion swimming around in them. As you looked into them now, you still came up short in identifying them.

"What are you doing back in Chicago?" He looked at you like you were a puzzle, one he couldn't give up on solving. "Did the studies abroad finally start to bore you?"

"Yeah, they did," you joked, looking down at your lap. "Not really much to do in Europe compared to this place, you know?"

Carmen let out a wisp of a laugh, nodding, while also noting somewhere in the back of his mind that this was the first time he'd laughed in at least a few days. Your presence could always do that to him; Put him at ease when nothing else truly could.

"And, of course, I could only go so long being separated from the Berzattos."

He laughed again. That made twice. "Oh yeah?"

You nodded, playful in your words.

"I mean it." You did.

You let a comfortable silence nestle between the two of you, feeling the upward tug of your lips that you could only blame on Carmen. The thought left something alighted in your chest

"Seriously though." You say up a little straighter in your seat. "I guess the real reason I stopped by was because I was wondering if I could help out around here for a little while, now that I'm back home."

At this, the smile that had been resting on Carmen's face began to weaken.

"What?" His forehead creased, eyes dancing across your face with curiosity and disguised panic of his own.

Sensing his change in mood, you hurriedly continued. "I'll be home for a while and, you know, I just figured me getting a job here would be convenient and-"

"No."

You stopped mid-sentence, zeroing in on the man before you. "No?"

He had one hand leaning against the desk, the other's fingertips pressed to his forehead, head cast down, eyes evading yours.

"No, I- I'm sorry, Mars. We're ... we're not hiring right now. We don't need any new workers." At that, you frowned, taking in the tension in Carmen's stance and the tightness in his voice.

"I know The Beef is hiring right now, Carm." You gave him a disbelieving look. "In fact, I got the idea to work here from the flyers Sydney put up everywhere, so don't try and tell me you're not looking for new job applicants." You took a step closer to him, sensing something wrong and confused as to why he would lie, but he only seemed to be growing more agitated, shifting his posture upwards and no longer leaning on the table.

"That was a mistake, alright? I didn't ask her to do that. The Beef is doing perfectly fine, we don't need any extra help." Something sour was rotting in the undertones of his voice, the way he said the word help as if the thought of it was repellent.

"I didn't mean anything by asking. I ... I know you guys are doing fine, probably great even, I was just thinking that maybe I could-"

"We don't need any new fucking hires, Mars." He slammed his hand down on the desk, his tone raising so abruptly that it had you taking a step back in surprise.

When you looked up at him with alarm in your eyes, immediately his eyes began to soften, regret flooding through them. You held his gaze until those same eyes became taken over with this sudden guilt, almost sadness, flickering downwards towards his hands that moved to rest on his office desk, away from you.

You took a second to scan over the desk that was littered with papers and unsigned documents. It wasn't like Carmen to be unorganized, you knew that much. He had to be in a bad place to have his office look like this. Or, rather, Mikey's old office.

The room was a sensory overload, every inch of it a reminder of Mikey. Anyone would go crazy spending their days in here. Especially if that someone had been his little brother.

Carmen rubbed his hands over his face. You took a step next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder that lit aflame from the heat he gave off.

"For what it's worth," you started softly, and Carmen had to fight a shiver at how close your voice was to him. "I miss Mikey too."

He didn't make any movement to turn towards you, his jaw clenched and eyes still staring downwards. He didn't know what made you feel like you had to say that to him. He didn't need to look at you, though, to know you truly meant it.

"You can't work here," he said, his voice sounding defeated and a little far away. "I'm sorry."

Something restless in your heart was determined to make you fight back, figure out why Carmen was refusing you without a good reason. But something else inside of you softened at the way Carmen wouldn't meet your eyes, seeming guilt-stricken, and decided to back down. The hand that had been resting on his shoulder gave him a final squeeze.

You took your leave for the office door without Carmen moving an inch.

"Bye, Carm." Your voice was unfairly soft towards him, even if he felt like he didn't deserve the kindness that thrummed from your heart. "It was nice seeing you." You paused. "I've missed you."

Before he could turn to say goodbye, somehow communicate the 'I've missed you too' that he'd been meaning to express since he'd seen you, you had already turned down the hallway, out of sight. He knew for sure, then, that you didn't deserve that response from him. But he just didn't know how to tell you. How to explain without sounding ridiculous why alarms sounded in his brain at the thought of you working at The Beef.

He'd always known that you were destined for more than just the life you'd shared with him as kids, where you scored straight A's and were one of the top in your class. When you'd left for college while he stayed put, he didn't even let himself miss you, because he'd just wanted what was best for you. And when you furthered your studies even after college, traveling abroad, he knew that was the life you were meant for. To see you stopping all of that to work at The Beef, the place where his brother's dreams had become nothing but dead ends as time went on, wouldn't settle right inside of him.

Worst of all, he had visions of you working in the kitchen, behind the scenes where tensions were constantly overwhelming, of him losing his cool in front of you and you seeing a side of him he tried to keep you far away from. You'd always known the youngest brother Carmy, the world-class chef Carmy, the one who was at his best around you. He couldn't imagine what he would do if suddenly he revealed the Carmy he tried to hide; the Carmy who worked at The Beef, a bundle of unstable frustration who was barely hanging on, the Carmy who still didn't know how to live life without Mikey but who melted from your touch, who wanted more from the girl who'd been at his side for so many years as nothing but a friend, and a great one. He couldn't risk losing that.

Especially not with the condition of The Beef at the moment, which needed his full focus. Having you around would definitely not allow for that. So he convinced himself that this was for your own good. For his own good.

When you rounded the corner back out into the front of the restaurant, Richie was still there behind the counter, holding a phone to his ear.

You smiled at him a little tiredly and silently waved goodbye, walking towards the door.

Richie frowned, removing his focus from the phone call. "Where the hell are you leaving to so fast?" You spun around. "Don't tell me Carmy scared you off already."

You laughed awkwardly and thought of what to say, but must have taken too long to answer because Richie's face was already contorting with an over-the-top grimace.

"What'd that moron say to you, huh?"

You put a hand out, trying to calm him. "Richie, it's nothing, really-"

He was already stalking off towards the office, muttering something about 'killing Carmen'. You shook your head to yourself, because you knew how headstrong both of them were, and turned towards the exit. And, as you finally opened the glass door to leave, you could hear yelling and shouted vulgar words coming from the office. You didn't stay long enough to listen.

You didn't know what to think when it happened. You'd been sitting at home all weekend, alone, and honestly truly bored and wondering if coming back home was the right choice when your phone started ringing. You checked the screen and it was an unknown caller, but boredom had you picking it up anyway.

Mars Bar!

"Hello? Who is this?"

It's me.

"..."

Richie.

"Ohh ... right. How did you get my number again?"

I asked around. Anyways, it doesn't matter. I'm supposed to be telling you that you're gonna start work tomorrow.

"What? Start work? Where?"

At The Beef. C'mon Mars catch up with me here.

"Sorry, I'm just ... confused. Carmen told me you guys weren't hiring and that he couldn't give me a job?"

Oh, that. Don't worry about Carmy. I set that moron straight.

"What are you saying?"

I'm saying, you got the job kid!

"Richie, are you fucking with me right now?"

No! Why does everyone always think I'm fucking with them? I'm fucking serious hon.

"Okay, okay! I ... I believe you. I think."

You better! Carmy is really fucking stoked to have you work here, I mean it.

"He ... he is?"

Sure! So I better see your ass Monday morning, capeesh?

"Y-yea I guess so."

Your heart really should not have fluttered the way it did when Richie told you that Carmen was supposedly excited to see you. He hadn't sounded like it when you'd brought it up to him. In fact, he seemed strangely opposed to the idea, like you'd hit a sensitive area.

You weren't sure if you could really believe Richie. Like you'd always known, Carmen was stubborn as hell. The change of heart was unexpected, to say the least. You didn't know what to think. You still didn't know, as you walked through the front entrance of The Beef the next day, ready to start work. The only person to greet you at the front was Richie, standing behind the counter, per usual.

"Cousin!" He gestured you over. You greeted him back and rounded the corner to stand behind the counter next to him, unused to the feeling after spending years on the other side of it.

Richie spent at most two minutes giving you a rundown of what you'd be doing at The Beef, merely distracted by some yelling in the kitchen. The brief directions consisted mostly of taking orders and ringing a bell. A real challenge.

"Yeah, so that's basically it." He gave you a pat on the back and your front almost hit the counter at the impact.

"No paperwork or formalities or anything?" You were almost suspicious of the fast speed at which this had all happened. Richie whipped his head around like you'd stated something crazy.

"Formalities? C'mon, what are we, the fucking White House? This is a family business, Cousin."

He patted you on the shoulder roughly. "Thanks, Richie," you said, both slightly amused and slightly unnerved. You tapped your fingers on the marble countertop, trying to seem casual. "Where's um ... where's Carmy?"

Richie scratched his head. "He's, uh, he's busy. He'll be out soon. Don't you worry, shortcake." He gave you a wink that you didn't know what to do with and turned back towards the kitchen. You were gonna have to talk to him about those nicknames in the workplace sooner or later.

You called out to him before he left into the kitchen, hesitant. "You're sure Carmen said he wants me to work here, right?"

Your eyes bore into Richie's for a moment, and it was almost like you could see the thoughts in his head visibly swarming about. His shoulder raised. "Well, he didn't exactly say he wanted you to, but anyone with fucking eyes can see that he wants you-"

"Richie!" Your jaw hung open in utter annoyance and bafflement. He frowned at you.

"What?"

You almost scoffed. "Did Carmen really not say it was okay for me to work here?" You looked around, bewildered. "Does he even know I'm here?"

Richie gestured his hands out to you. "Sure he does!"

You could tell just from his tone what your answer was. You put a hand on your hip, shaking your head to yourself. "I'm going in there to talk to him."

"No!" Richie's eyes widened. "No. Just calm down, and I'll talk to him."

You stared at him disbelievingly. He stared back at you challengingly with the confidence only Richie could have. "I'll be back in no time. I know what I'm doing, trust me."

Richie didn't know what he was planning on doing when he opened the door to the kitchen in search of Carmen. He just hoped he wasn't using a knife when he found him.

He turned a few corners before Carmen was in his line of view, hunched over the counter as he worked busily on something Richie couldn't see. He leaned against the counter next to him, watching Carmen as his focus didn't even falter.

"Carm."

He didn't get a reply, just the back of Carmen's head as he focused on reading the piece of paper in front of him, hand braced against the shining surface it lay on.

"Carmy."

The man in question slowly shifted his focus to the man next to him, whose distracting presence had become impossible to ignore. "What? What is it?"

Richie peered down at him. "Promise that you won't get mad."

Carmen's eyes narrowed. "What the hell did you do?"

"Just promise me you won't fucking blow up at me like you always do."

"Why would I promise that if I don't even know what the hell you did?"

Richie tipped his head back exasperatedly. "Just say you promise!"

"I fucking promise! Okay?" Carmen ran a hand through his hair, moving it again to cross his arms. "Now, what is it?"

Richie paused, kicking out his foot and casually peering down at it with feigned interest. "Mars Bar is outside right now. Again."

Carmen's forehead creased and he looked over at Richie with sudden alarm. "What? Why? Is she okay?"

Richie gave him a knowing look, smug for a moment. "Yeah, she's fine." He shrugged. "I just, um, might have given her a job here up at the register."

Carmen's face was unmoving, his tone raising with poorly hidden anger. "You what?"

"And I might've also told her you really wanted her to work here."

Carmen's eyes scanned Richie's sporadically like he couldn't process his words fast enough. "Wh- Why the fuck would you do that? I already told her no-"

"Yeah, and I told her yes. Because you're an idiot and I'm saving your ass. You're welcome!"

Carmen ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly. "For what? Fucking me over?"

"I did not fuck you over, Carm, I'm doing this for you!"

Carmen shook his head, anger bleeding its way through his mind. "What the hell are you talking about? I told you, Richie, I don't want her anywhere near this place. I- I thought that was understood."

"No, it was not fucking understood because it was a stupid idea." Carmen let out a scoff as Richie put his hands out to Carmen in a calming gesture. "This is a good thing, trust me."

Carmen sputtered. "How the fuck is it-"

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me, Carm!" Richie shouted, bravely putting a hand up in front of Carmen's face. He pointed his finger at him which Carmen regarded with annoyance. "You need to stop being a moron and pushing away every single fucking female that tries to come within ten feet of you, alright?"

Carmen's brows furrowed even further, confusion building alongside anger. "I really have no goddamn idea what your point is here, Richie, but this has nothing to do with-"

"Oh spare me, Cousin!" He shouted. "We all know you've had the hots for Mars Bar over there since you were kids, alright?"

Carmen's mouth clamped shut immediately at this, his breathing coming out in fumes. He shook his head back and forth.

"Is this what this whole fucking thing is about, you jagoff?"

"Woah woah woah!" Richie cut in. "I am not the jagoff here, Cousin. I'm helping you out!"

"Richie's right, Carm," cut in Fak from behind, appearing suddenly out of nowhere like he always seemed to.

"Shut the fuck up, Fak!" Carmen held his head in his hand, trying to grab hold of his temper that he could feel slipping out of control. He needed to breathe.

"She can't work here."

Richie raised his arms in a shrug. "Well, you're gonna have to go tell her that yourself."

"I fucking will."

Carmen stormed off towards the kitchen door, ready to tell you yet again that you had to leave, a daunting thought overlooked thanks to adrenaline. Richie chuckled from behind him. "Yeah right, like you're gonna fire her."

Carmen didn't let himself listen to Richie any longer. Fists clenched at his sides, he opened the door and there you were, standing there, looking confused and a little surprised with parted lips.

Richie came up from behind and patted him on the back. "Go on, Carm. Tell her." You watched as Carmen's jaw clenched.

Carmen really wanted to tell you that you couldn't work here. That you had to go home. That you had to run far away from this place and go back to studying abroad and being more successful than any of them and all of that bullshit. Maybe it was because your eyes were shining a little too bright in the restaurant lighting, or that they looked a little too hopeful as they stared back at him with raised brows, waiting. But he didn't say anything of those things.

"You..." he started. Your eyebrows raised further. His palms suddenly became sweatier. He took a breath in.

"You, um," a beat passed. He licked his lip. "You're gonna need an apron."

Your eyes lit up even more if possible, and he thought his heart would give out. Then, you ran up and threw your arms around his neck in a tight hug, and he genuinely questioned if his brain had short-circuited because, by the time he came back to reality, you'd already pulled away and were practically jittering with excitement from in front of him.

"Thank you so much, Carm." Every time you smiled at him in that way he felt himself lose a bit of control. He didn't like the feeling. "You won't regret it."

He smiled back at you because he couldn't not. He wasn't so sure.

Carmen had given you your apron. When he'd handed it to you, you'd brushed fingers and your heart skipped a little beat at the contact. That had been the most eventful thing to occur within the next four days.

You'd done practically nothing at The Beef all week. There'd been a noticeable lack of customers coming into the restaurant to take orders, and those who did oftentimes came in just to see Richie, which had you leaning against the counter waiting and listening to their loud conversations with the man.

It felt like there was some sort of prank being played on you. Surely they wouldn't pay you money for doing absolutely nothing. All the waiting around doing close to nothing made you antsy, frustrated, and confused.

You'd been meaning to address this to Carmen, to ask what you were doing wrong, but getting a hold of him was near impossible. You'd seen so little of Carmen that you couldn't even be sure he came into work most days, the only confirmation being his shouts coming from the kitchen at the others. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you became jealous of them. You'd take Carmen shouting orders at you in the kitchen any day over him saying nothing to you at all. It almost felt like he was avoiding you.

It was a Thursday night, and the antsy feeling inside of you had you staying late at work that night, wiping down tables with an intense amount of fervor.

You'd thought you were the last one in The Beef. It'd been dark for hours, but you had nobody and nothing exciting waiting for you at home, so working a little extra couldn't hurt. And, if it made Carmen notice your position at The Beef at least a little bit, it would be worth it.

As your thoughts drifted to the man, something made a noise from the kitchen, and it became apparent to you that maybe you weren't the only one working late that night.

"Hello?" You'd said aloud, your voice slightly echoing in the vacant restaurant. No response was returned. You slowly went back to scrubbing down a table against the far wall from the kitchen door when it swung open, and there stood Carmen Berzatto in his patchwork wool jacket, looking like seeing you was the last thing he'd expected.

The sight was jarring to you for a number of reasons. You jumped up speedily and tucked the rag you'd been using to clean tables slightly behind you as if he hadn't already seen you using it.

"Mars Bar?" He said, the nickname falling easily from his lips like it was the only one he'd ever known you by. He eyed your tense stance.

"Hey, Carmen." Your smile was just as unnatural. His eyebrows pulled downward at you, eyes squinting and blinking confusedly in the dim lighting like he was fighting sleep.

"What are you doing here so late?" You nibbled at your own lip. Carmen, even from across the room, made sure to follow the movement. You noticed him eye the rag in your hands.

"I was just cleaning off some of the umm ... some of the tables." You didn't know why you sounded so embarrassed. You also didn't know what was going through Carmen's mind as he looked over you, and then over the spotless tables behind you.

"Wow," he began, running a hand through his hair. "You really didn't have to do all this. It's not ... it's not part of your job, you know?" A feeling bitter and stale simmered inside of you.

"I know." You stood up straighter. "Maybe I just wanted to.

You wanted to say more in the moment, tell him all of your frustrations, but you didn't. You just stared back at him and watched as he walked towards where you stood by the tables. You didn't move an inch.

His eyes surveyed the tops of the tables and he marveled at how clean they were. Not just clean, but almost sparkling, even in the low lighting that came from a single overhead lamp and the streetlights from outside.

"You did a great job, Chef."

Your eyebrows raised unintentionally. He'd never called you that before, though you'd heard the name from his lips aimed at others countless times. He noticed your reaction.

"What?" He asked, eyeing you curiously. He leaned back against the table next to you, his beautiful stare almost becoming a little too much for you after a long day. You shrugged.

"Nothing. It's just," you paused, "you've never called me that before."

His expression was slightly confused, slightly amused. "Well," he began, gaze shifting from the ground to you. "Now I do. You work here, don't you?"

The question settled uncomfortably in your chest, and you let out a laugh that sounded just as strained. "Hardly."

Carmen's eyebrows flashed downwards in a quick frown. "What do you mean 'hardly'?" You felt his eyes scanning your face, scanning you. "What's up?"

You went back to rubbing at the corner of a nearby table with your rag if only to distract yourself from Carmen's gaze and the petty way your words sounded coming from your lips.

"I mean," you began. "It feels like I haven't really done much of anything around here, you know?" When he didn't say anything back, you continued. "I've only taken a handful of customer's orders in the past couple of days. And, I know I'm not the best cook in the world but I could definitely help out in the kitchen with something. Maybe I could cut up some stuff, or prep it, or whatever you guys call it. Anything, really."

He didn't say anything right away, and you became horrified that you'd pushed his buttons too many times in the last week with your rants and that he'd finally send you on your way once and for all. Then, you heard something like a laugh come from him. You reeled back.

"Is something funny?" You asked, your tone uncharacteristically sour. He silenced his amusement and looked at you intently.

"You've always been such an overachiever, Mars."

You paused, then shook your head. "Oh please, we all know you're the ambitious one."

"No, not when we were kids," Carmen argued. "I was never great in school. You, on the other hand," he chuckled under his breath. "My mom would have me go check in on you whenever we hadn't heard from you on a night before a test. Make sure you weren't overdosing on coffee and pop."

You swore you could feel your heart beating in your chest at Carmen's revelation and the fondness in his voice.

"You know," Carmen began again, getting lost in memories. "I think my mom used to have this theory I'd marry you one day or something. Said you were the only girl who'd put up with my stubbornness."

Oh my God. Your head was spinning. Why was he saying this? He didn't know what the hell he was doing to you. Or your heartbeat, which was concerningly gaining speed. He never did.

All you could say was, "Oh?"

He laughed some more like this was something casual, something funny. You couldn't help but notice that forever present weight present in his eyes, though. Something he could never seem to shed.

"Yeah, well," Carmen began again, "my mother has also been mentally unstable for years, so." He jokingly trailed off, his voice dying in the silence, along with any butterflies you'd felt. You laughed quietly, even if laughing was the last thing you wanted to do when hearing that.

You felt like you were being suffocated. By him and his blue eyes and his dry, self-deprecating jokes and the small quirk of his lips. You were also getting restless because you'd started off trying to talk with Carmen about your job, and now were getting lost in the haze of your feelings for him which you decided were useless and would get you nowhere. You cast them aside the best you could and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Carmen," you said. His attention focused directly on you. "Did you listen to any of the things I said about working here?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he assured you. "Of course."

"So, will you take them into consideration? Let me do more, Carmen. I can do more."

There was a beat of silence. He fidgeted, like he did when he was a boy and couldn't focus in class, or when he was nervous around a girl he'd liked. Nervous around you.

He wanted to say yes. Hell, he would've given you anything you'd asked for just to see you happy. But he didn't know what the consequences of giving you a more important role at The Beef would achieve. What it might stop you from achieving. What it might do to him. So, he didn't say anything. Not anything direct.

"I know you can, Mars." He exhaled and then put his hands in his pockets, eyes cast down. He glanced at his watch. "It's almost midnight. We can talk about this more in the morning. Okay?"

His response was like a smack in the face. A sharp pain that left a dull ache. You let a breath out and tried to keep your face from revealing your stubborn frustration. You slowly nodded. "Okay."

Even if you tried to contain your emotions, Carmen could see it. He noticed it in the quick flare of your nostrils as you breathed, in the slight clench of your jaw. Stupidly, he asked, "Is that okay?"

You weren't looking at him. You were looking at your feet. You tapped your foot once. "Yes."

Even more stupidly, he asked, "Are you sure?"

You finally shifted your focus to him and he felt his own jaw clench at the way it sent a rush down his spine.

"Yeah, Carmen." That was the first time he didn't like the way you said his name.

"Alright," he said, nodding slowly, lifting his bag higher on his shoulder.

"Alright."

You lifted the rag from the table, stood there for a second, and walked towards the counter, where you wrung it out and slapped it down into a bucket full of other dirty rags, and left it there. You didn't feel much like putting it away.

Carmen hadn't moved and just stood there by the tables, watching as you collected your coat from behind the counter and turned off the lights as you walked past.

When he saw you walking towards the door, he rushed to get there first, to open it for you. You beat him to it, opening it yourself. He closed it and locked the door behind him. You both were engulfed by the dull chill of the air right away, and you couldn't help but shiver.

Carmen turned to you. "Let me drive you home." He didn't dare offer you a lighthearted smile or anything of that sort. He didn't think he had it in himself to be lighthearted, anyways.

You gifted him a polite one with a short tug of your lips. "I have a car. Thanks."

Carmen could've smacked himself right there. "Right." He didn't know what was wrong with him. "Sorry." The apology was for more than just his assumption, but he couldn't bring himself to clarify.

"I'll walk you to your car then?" He asked, though you knew no matter what you said he'd make sure you'd get to your car safely either way.

"Okay, yeah."

You both turned to walk to your car, Carmen letting you take the lead for a moment before catching up to walk side by side with you. You were hit with the reality that Carmen Berzatto was walking you to your car, alone with you, at midnight. A small gesture that had your mind buzzing from the contrast between your love for him and your frustration with him. Nobody had come close to making you feel the emotions Carmen made you feel, even if no words were shared between both of you on that short walk. It felt completely silent. Somehow, even if the streets of Chicago were anything but, it felt silent.

Carmen thought about how his life was full of silent moments, never saying what he truly wanted to, to the people he wanted to speak to the most. When he noticed you were cold, even through your jacket, he walked a little closer to you. Whether you noticed it or not, he didn't know, but at least it soothed a small part of his mind that was blaring that night, telling him that he'd fucked up with you. That you deserved better. He couldn't help but think that same thing when he was around you, all the time.

You'd both crossed the street to reach your car in not even a full minute, but the walk had felt eternal to you. When you turned to Carmen to tell him goodnight, he was already looking at you intently. You wanted to ask what he was thinking, but you didn't, and unlocked your car.

"See you in the morning, Carmen," you said, tone unrevealing. He gave you his best neutral smile.

"Yeah. See you, Mars."

You went to open your car door, but this time he beat you to it. Even if he made you angry, he was still Carmen.

You watched as he rounded the front of your car back to the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, soft breathing visible in the cold from the white puffs it made in the air as he breathed.

You gave him one last wave as a goodbye, but by that time he was pretty much out of vision, and then drove away.

He watched your car drive down the street, stop at the light, turn the corner, and then glide out of view.

Immediately, he knew he should've said more on the walk to your car. He should've at least apologized. He didn't tell you that he was sorry for being so shitty. He didn't tell you he appreciated everything you did. He also didn't tell you his car was parked on the opposite end of the street.

And as he walked back to it, crossing The Beef again with its spotless tables, he thought about nothing except you.

The next morning had you waking up with a headache that only worsened when you stepped foot into The Beef. Your coworkers were shouting and blurting out orders in typical kitchen lingo that you honestly didn't fully understand.

There seemed to be an underlying tension simmering in the air that morning that had everyone's voices raised just a little bit more than usual, echoing through to you from your designated spot behind the front counter.

You figured out soon that that tension came from the review of The Beef that had been put in the paper the night before. It was the same topic that had Sydney and Richie arguing back and forth for minutes on end next to you.

"So this is a war on poor people?" You heard Richie ask as you finally tuned back into their yelling. "I see you."

"No," Sydney yelled back. "This is a war on you shutting the fuck up and learning how to use the tablet! The end dude."

"What is the end?"

You turned to your left to see Carmen stride out of the kitchen, looking every bit intense, shoulders hunched and rigid. He glanced at you in some form of a greeting for only a second before putting himself between Richie and Sydney and somewhat settling their argument.

"Are we ready?" He asked them with a rushed tone.

"No!" Sydney snapped, but headed back into the kitchen with Richie, even if you could see she wanted to punch the man in the face.

You turned back around to watch Carmen as he hurriedly ran a hand through his hair and started to rush back into the kitchen. You tried to catch his eyes, but he didn't meet your gaze.

"Um, Chef?" You tried to call, reaching out an arm to get his attention just a hair too late, him brushing past you without taking notice of you.

"Carmen?" This time he turned around, head flipping around to focus on you with eyes shot wide in the rush.

"What's up?" He asked, eyes quickly assessing your face. For a second you forgot what you were supposed to be asking.

"Did you, um, think about what I said last night?" He blinked back at you. "You said we'd talk about it in the morning, so, could we maybe talk about it?"

With the way he stared back at you, for a second you could've sworn he'd forgotten what you were talking about. Then, it had clearly dawned on him and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, holding out a hand to his head.

"No, yeah, right." He thought for a second, and then looked around, peeking into the kitchen, attention clearly spread elsewhere.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Can we just ... talk about this another time?"

You tried not to show your frustration. "Like when?"

"Uh," Carmen started, but he was already backing into the kitchen. A loud clanging noise of pots and pans rang through to the front, and his focus was completely lost. "Who the fuck keeps denting my pans, Chefs?!" He shouted. He threw the kitchen door open and moved to go inside, but not before calling out "We'll talk later, Chef!" and disappearing into the kitchen.

You groaned. "Later," could mean any time between that day and Easter. You didn't want to blame Carmen. You knew he was extremely busy and tended to overwork himself. But something in the back of your mind told you he was avoiding you. You didn't like the feeling.

It'd only been maybe an hour into the day when all hell started to break loose in the kitchen. At least from what you could hear. There was three times as much yelling as usual and people were weaving through the station by the front counter and the kitchen, shouting sandwich orders. Meanwhile, you felt lost and unhelpful, with no direct answer as to what was going on.

You'd spent your time filling up the napkin dispenser and cutting green tape, feeling your uselessness in your bones. Maybe Carmen was right. Maybe you were overly ambitious. That didn't change the fact that now it seemed like not just Carmen, but everyone else had gone out of their way to keep you away from the kitchen.

You'd thought about going in there anyway, but thought better of it when listening to the commotion. That was, until you saw Marcus with his bags taking his leave towards the exit, a look of both anger and defeat on his face.

"Woah, Marcus," you called out with furrowed brows. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

He let out a quick breath from his nose that sounded like it was supposed to be a wry laugh. He pointed towards the back. "Anywhere but in that kitchen." You frowned and he shook his head. "He's losing his shit, man."

You were confused and looked to him for more of an explanation, but he was already walking out the door and it didn't seem like he had any plans of coming back. You wanted to ask him "who?", but you had a sinking feeling in your gut telling you that you already knew just who he meant.

That and the loud "Fuck!" that came from the other side of the wall was the last push you needed to finally storm into the litchen. As soon as you walked in, it was a complete overload to your senses. The sounds and smells of sizzling food, the clunky buzzing of timers, and an argument at practically every corner. What had you reeling to a stop, though, was the sight of Carmen shouting truly throat-tearing orders, face turning red with exertion, hair damp from sweat, skin gleaming in the sight.

"Can somebody get me a Sharpie that fucking works?!" he screamed while whipping a Sharpie out of his hand and onto the ground. Your eyes widened at the sight.

"Woah," you said aloud, not even meaning to say the word but being unable to stop yourself. When you did, Carmen's focus switched onto you in a second and you could see the pure chaos held behind his eyes.

"Wh- what the fuck are you doing in here?"

You frowned at his abruptness. "I just wanted to know what the hell is going on in here-"

"Nothing is going on in here."

Someone laughed from around the corner and about three more timers began to buzz and beep.

"Oh please, I've been hearing screaming for hours and then I see Marcus storming out of here with his things saying you've lost it."

At that, Carmen paused, eyes searching yours intently. "Marcus left?"

"Yeah," you answered steadily, unsure of how exactly he'd react. "It looked like he was quitting."

For a second, it looked like Carmen felt guilty, sad, but then he was fuming and slamming his hands down on the counter.

"Fuck!" He shook his head back and forth like he was rummaging through a thousand thoughts swirling around his head. He shouted again. "Fuck!"

You didn't like the sight before you, or the way Carmen seemed to be losing control of himself, and quickly. "Now can you tell me what the problem is?" You almost pleaded. "I could help."

Carmen hardly bothered to look you in the eyes and strode past you to reach the oven you'd been standing by, lifting the lid of a pot and adjusting the heat at lightning speed.

"You're not seriously ignoring me right now when I'm offering to help-"

He put up a hand. "I told you I'd talk with you later, Mars. Go back to the register."

You scoffed. "What the hell are you talking about? That's-" you shook your head. "I'm not leaving until I at least know what the fuck is going on."

"You wanna know what the fuck is going on?" Richie shouted out, laughing to himself loudly as he appeared from behind the corner. "Some moron left the pre-order option open on her beloved tablet overnight and now we're 250-something beefs behind schedule!"

Your head was spinning from the news and from the lack of air in the kitchen, but the yelling kept coming.

"Okay, well, the 'moron' is right here and she has a name, thank you," cut in Sydney, livid. "And there is no fucking way you are putting all the blame on me right now, Richie-"

"Who else's fucking fault is it sweetheart?"

"Richie, I swear to God if you call me that one more time-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Carmen's booming voice split the two of them apart. "Shut the fuck up and get back to work!"

They listened and went back to their stations angrily mumbling to themselves. That didn't change the fact that you knew the kitchen was in deep shit and Carmen was one wrong move away from losing his mind. You watched as he stormed around the kitchen to different stations. You'd be an idiot if you just stood at the register waiting for more nonexistent orders.

"Sydney," you called out as she passed by. "What can I do to help?"

She raised the corners of her lips in a slightly surprised smile and thought for a second.

"You can probably start by helping me with peeling these potatoes for now." She handed you a basket filled with potatoes and pointed towards a metal peeler on the counter. You quickly nodded.

"Okay, on it, Chef."

"Great. Oh, and-"

"Sydney, what the fuck are you doing?" yelled Carmen as he rounded the corner behind Sydney. He glanced angrily back and forth between you and the potatoes in your hands.

Sydney rolled her eyes. "What does it look like I'm doing, Chef? I'm getting us some very much necessary extra help."

"We don't need any fucking extra help right now!"

Sydney turned fully to face him. "Carmy what the fuck is your problem right now? Just let her fucking peel some potatoes!"

Carmen was breathing heavily, a vein in his neck visibly contracting."I told you guys she stays out front. I told everyone she's not supposed to-"

"Excuse me?" You asked, cutting in. He was talking about you like you weren't standing right behind Sydney, hearing his every shouted word. "Sydney's right. You need to stop getting so worked up about this!"

Carmen looked like he wanted to scream. To break out into shouts even louder than even those from this morning. You'd only seen Carmen worked up like this a few times before and even then he knew when he was taking things too far.

He didn't say anything back to you and just turned away.

"Someone just get her out of here!" He hollered, to anyone who'd listen. Anyone but you. Somehow, that was even more angering than his yelling.

"Hey!" You yelled, shoving his shoulder back to turn him to face you. He glanced down towards the same shoulder before looking back towards you. You saw something haughty flash behind his eyes as they stared back at you. "Whatever you need to say about me, you can say it to me, Carmen."

He was definitely speaking to you now.

"I need you to stay the fuck out!" He pointed a finger down at you. "You never fucking listen to me! I gave you this job because you fucking asked me to, because Richie fucking asked me to. So how about you finally listen to me and stay the fuck out?!"

You knew everyone had stopped to watch. It was quieter in the kitchen than it had been all morning.

You both stood standing there with heavy breathing. Your mind couldn't think of what to say back in that moment, but a thousand different responses played through your mind. Things you wanted to ask, to shout, to make sure he understood.

Your stare bore into Carmen's own for a few seconds, noticing the anger in them, but also something fragile threatening to shatter and reveal itself. He looked away from you quickly, bracing a hand on the counter.

"Leave, Chef." He said. You didn't need to be asked twice. Not that he was asking.

"Yeah," you laughed under your breath. You untied your apron and left it on the counter. "I definitely will."

He could call you Chef, but he wouldn't even let you enter the kitchen. He could yell at you, but he couldn't even look you in the eyes as you finally left the kitchen.

Another timer went off in the background as Carmen stood there, mulling over what he'd just done in his head; the one thing, most of all, he didn't want to happen.

Sydney shook her head, brushing past him. "Carmen Berzatto, you are a fucking idiot."

He didn't have anything to say, nothing to argue back with. He knew she was right. And as he heard the front door jingle as a sign of you leaving, he also knew just how badly he'd fucked up.

You didn't come to work the next day, or the day after that. Carmen never got to listen for the jingle of the doorbell as you came into work. He didn't get a single glimpse of you, those glimpses that were like caffeine shots, keeping him going every day. He didn't see your warm, familiar eyes that reminded him why he kept going in the first place. This was what he got for trying to keep you at arm's length. For being an asshole. The regret knawed at him painstakingly.

When the first hour went by and you didn't show up, he didn't need anyone to tell him that you wouldn't come into work that day. He had Richie cover the register in your place, an order shouted quickly as he was forced to think about things other than you. And as the day went on, the fact that he didn't know when he'd see you again was a heavy weight that lay in his chest, waiting to be addressed.

You awoke that morning in your apartment, phone lighting up beside you on your bedside table to four missed calls all from the same person. A person you didn't really feel like talking to much.

You checked the time and saw it was almost noon. It wasn't like you to sleep in. And, you hadn't called in sick to work. Not that it mattered.

The next day went the same. You hadn't called in sick that morning either, but you didn't have it in you to care. You didn't even know if you wanted to come back, but there was a twisting feeling inside of you that you knew wouldn't feel release until you settled things with Carmen. The hard part would lay in being upfront with him, not letting him make any excuses, and not letting yourself soften all because he was Carmen Berzatto. A battle between your pride and whatever you felt for him.

Carmen had called you two more times, but soon, the calls stopped coming. Carmen may have been an asshole at times, but he wasn't an idiot. In fact, he was extremely smart. And definitely smart enough to know that calling you repeatedly would get him nowhere, not when he'd been as awful as he had.

You'd spent the day driving around running errands that left you tired with boredom. The sun was setting as you walked back to your own front door, the air crisp and clear from the cold while your mind felt anything but. You reached your front doorstep and unlocked the entrance to your apartment, only to step forward and feel something crunch and mash underneath the heel of your shoe. You lifted your foot and glanced downward.

A candy bar. You peered down further. A Mars Bar.

Something inside of you paused. Maybe your heartbeat, maybe your thoughts. You weren't sure but you could feel it. The now half-smushed candy bar lay on the floor like a bittersweet memory.

You blinked. There was a note. It looked like it had been torn from the corner of something messily. More importantly, there was writing on it, in pencil, words pressed hard into paper.

I'm an asshole. You don't deserve that.

No name, but you knew who it was from. Not a "sorry" in sight, but you knew he was trying. You could almost feel the intent behind the words etched into the paper as you held it. You wanted to be furious still. And you definitely were mad. But maybe not as much. Because you knew Carmen.

You knew he had the temper of someone who'd just lost a brother, of someone who'd grown up in a screaming Berzatto household in the heart of Chicago. You'd never taken his outbursts to heart and you didn't want to now. Besides. You knew, eventually, you'd miss him too much to ignore him.

So much for not giving in to Carmen Berzatto.

You didn't really know what plan you had when you walked back towards your car, sat down, placed the chocolate bar and note in your bag, and drove. You didn't think you had one. You just were aware that your days away from The Beef had been extremely boring and that you wanted to see Carmen. To hear what he had to say to you. Even if it didn't end the way you wanted.

The familiar path to The Beef stretched before you now as an uncertain one. When you got there, you tossed your bag over your shoulder and got out of your car to the sight of the lights off in the front of the restaurant. But, if you knew anything about Carmen, you knew he'd stay late. Your assumption was proven right when you entered through the unlocked door—a slightly concerning fact—and saw the harsh white light of the kitchen flooding through to the rest of the place.

You hesitated to enter, not sure if you really knew what you were doing, but ignored the thoughts plaguing you and walked carefully into the kitchen, waiting at the door when you saw him.

He faced mostly away from the door, from you, hunched over the counter doing something that had his full focus, enough of it that he didn't notice you at first. You saw he had a toothbrush in hand and that he was determinedly scrubbing at the silver countertop surface that already sparkled spotlessly. Clearly, he didn't notice or care.

It felt like you were holding your breath as you watched him, saw how focused he was, how the muscles in his back flexed and churned with each precise movement he made as he scrubbed at a nonexistent stain. Like he held a desire to erase more than just grime.

He did that for what felt like another minute without pause, and you watched the whole time wordlessly, not wanting to break the focus he had and not knowing what to say regardless. Part of you just wanted to watch him, to see how long he could keep at it without noticing you. It wasn't for too long.

He lifted his posture upright and ran a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply with little exhale as if something weighty was plaguing him. Then, he finally sensed your presence at the doorway, eyes flicking towards you as his moments came to a halt. You watched him part his lips as he thought about what to say.

He shakenly said your name, a fragile plea. The word was soft coming from his lips like he knew it well, but nestled in your brain with surprise as he called you by your real name, not just a nickname. You didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything at all.

As he looked at you standing in the doorway, he felt exposed, like you could see through any walls he'd tried to build around himself. Words faltered from his brain. His lips parted again as if he was going to say something more, but they shut just as quickly and he ran a hand over his chin. He gestured that hand out to you.

"You uhm- did you get my note?"

You stared back at him for a beat before nodding and reaching into your bag. You held the note out in front of you, the side of your mouth quirking upwards. "Was this Carmen language for 'I'm sorry' ?"

You were half kidding and half serious, a test hidden in your words. The fact weighed on Carmen's brain, his demeanor more nervous than usual, more anxious.

"Yeah, uhm," he scrunched his eyes closed for a half second before walking towards you, taking the note from your hand and reading it to himself again, feeling the warm haze of shame creeping up on him. "Let me translate."

He read it once more. "Well, the 'I'm an asshole,' is pretty verbatim. I'm an asshole, and an idiot, and a bunch of other bad things." He glanced up at you from the paper and was relieved to see that you seemed at least a little amused. He continued. "And the 'You don't deserve that', you see, that's the good part, it translates directly to 'I'm sorry for yelling at you ' and 'it doesn't matter how stressed I was, I shouldn't have taken it out on you. That was wrong of me. And ... you're great.' "

Your eyebrows raised. "That's quite the translation."

Carmen laughed to himself breathily, but it held little amusement. "Yeah, I've been told communicating with me is like trying to tame a wild animal."

You smiled. "Who told you that?"

"Sugar."

Your laugh was warm and sounded like home. It was a feeling that left as fast as it came because soon the air between the two of you seemed to thicken with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. The heavy silence lay bare and neither of you decided to fill it right away.

"Carmen."

The way you said his name sent shivers down his spine, a sensation that never ceased to affect him. He nodded at you, eyes studying your face showing that you had his sole attention.

"I know you don't like the idea of me being here. You don't have to try and hide it." His eyes widened as you spoke."But, could you at least tell me why?"

He stared back at you, brows furrowed like he was confused. It was like you could see the gears turning in his brain as he fought to find the right wording, revealed by the stiffening mass of his shoulders that never seemed to relax.

"I don't not like you being here, Mars Bar." He spoke slowly. "I think it's great that you're back in Chicago. I ... We've missed you."

A subtle warmth lay in his gaze, but you couldn't help but feel it was dimmed by whatever emotion he'd been suppressing, the battle evident in flickers in the blue of his eyes.

"I want to believe that, but with the way you've been avoiding me, how can I?"

"Avoiding you- that's," he shook his head, almost seeming incredulous, and you watched as he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did. "I haven't been trying to avoid you."

You didn't know how he could sound surprised, how you could've interpreted the way he's acted all week as anything else. "Well that's definitely what it's felt like when I tried talking to you all week, and you're just ... I don't know, dismissive."

He rubbed a hand at the nape of his neck, focus pitched somewhere that wasn't at you, jaw tightening slightly. "I just ... it's busy around here trying to bring in enough money, and there have been a lot of different things that have my focus right now," he started, as if he hadn't, time and time again, had to remind himself to stop thinking about you.

"Carmen, I know you're busy but that-," you tried to keep your emotions from showing through your voice, but you were aware of the tinge of frustration that was slipping through. "I know that's only part of it. I just need you to be more transparent with me. I can't read your mind."

He nodded, silently thanking God that you couldn't. He swallowed again and you noticed a tremor in the way he held the note he'd written, a sign of unease that he quickly hid in the pocket of his jeans.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know." His blue eyes stared into yours, though you could sense the reluctance in his voice. "But I'm not gonna lie and say that I think it's a good idea for you to stay here."

You felt yourself frown, brows tugging downwards in frustration and confusion. "Why?"

His gaze faltered for just a moment, seeming torn, but he was quick to regain his momentum. "This place is ... it's not meant for someone like you."

You squinted at him, feeling a mix of disbelief and irritation. "Someone like me?"

"Yeah, I just mean," he hesitated, hearing the way you repeated his words, like they were meant to insult. "You were supposed to leave here and finish your studies abroad and achieve great things. Things bigger and better than this shit hole. You were gonna-"

"Carmen, stop." You almost scoffed to yourself. "My plans were always to stay close to home. A few months abroad weren't gonna change that." The air in the room seemed to thicken with the weight of the words you both shared, the thoughts never said allowed before. You noticed your breathing was becoming labored as you failed to understand the way Carmen's mind worked, the way he tried to communicate so much by doing so little.

"This whole time you were worried about me supposedly being meant to achieve great things, but what about you?" You let out a stunned laugh. "You're the one who studied with the best of the best, traveled all over, became a world-class chef and everything else, and now you're overworking yourself at this place and refusing help."

"Yeah, well, that part of my life stopped when Mikey gave this place to me as a final fuck you, so."

Your heart twinged not only at the name, but at the way Carmen's eyes flashed with hurt while his words could've cut stone.

"Mikey gave this place to you because he trusted you," you reasoned. You tried to make him come down from wherever he was, to detach himself from the hurt and open up. The hard plane of his shoulders lifted once in a shrug, with a small shake of his head as he stared at the ground.

"Yeah well, he just ended up fucking screwing me over."

Carmen's frustration seeped into his voice, the way he emphasized each word like he wanted to release whatever was simmering under the surface. You wanted to reach out, tell him that he could, but you held yourself back and stood up taller.

"That doesn't mean you should push people away from this place. Push me away. I could help out here. I saw how hectic it was the last time I was here and-"

"That day was a fluke," Carmen cut you off. "It's not usually like that..." his jaw worked. "I'm not usually like that." His words were laced with exasperation and a little bit of shame. You could tell he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"Carmen, I understand. But-"

"I already blew up at you." His voice cut into the air harshly. He looked away, his chest rising as he tried to control rising frustration. "I didn't mean to do that, I don't... I'm not gonna let that happen again." His words were starting to come out in a rush, escaping his control, something you knew never sat well with him.

"Well, that's my choice to make, Carmen, not one that you can make for me."

"Mars, The Beef isn't- you don't want to settle for this place, just trust me."

"How can I trust you when you've done nothing but push me away since I got here?" You heard the tremble that was growing in your own voice, a mix of hurt and anger. "You've told me a million times what I want and don't want. Have you ever stopped to ask me what I wanted? Seen my point of view?"

Carmen's breathing was picking up too, the crystals that were his eyes looking at you with a mixture of defiance and desperation. He ran a hand over his face.

"I've tried to see your point of view."

"Have you?" you snapped back.

"I gave you the job even though I knew it was a bad idea, I went against what I knew just because it was you and I let Richie convince me it was a good idea, and I am fucking done listening to Richie's ideas-" his breathing was becoming uneven as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

"Hey, Richie's done a lot more to help me since I've gotten back than you have, and a lot more listening!" Now you were yelling, and he was yelling and you didn't like the direction this was going.

"Yeah, well did Richie tell you this place was hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt when Mikey gave it to me? Did he tell you we probably couldn't even afford to pay you a decent fucking salary?"

You opened your mouth, expecting to be equipped with a response as fast as the ones that came before, but that didn't happen and you didn't say anything. You let your eyes scan Carmen, searching for a hint that he wasn't serious, but he looked wholeheartedly sincere and angered. In fact, he looked like he was fighting to even breathe steadily.

You looked at him concernedly, taking a step closer, but he just continued, laughing to himself without joy. "He didn't fucking tell you. Of course not."

His breaths were harsh, coming from his nose and lifting his chest repeatedly. His arms slapped down at his sides, hands trembling. "See, that's why I fucking told him I didn't want you anywhere near this crap hole, I fucking told him-"

His yelling stopped. He recoiled, backing up into the counter recklessly, a pot falling behind him with a clang that had you flinching. His vision was pointed downwards towards the ground, but he was frowning so hard you were sure he couldn't see anything at all, hand to his chest, gripping.

"Carmen?" You asked, alarm suddenly overtaking you and washing away whatever anger had been bubbling inside of you. "Wh- are you okay?"

It took him a second to even process what you'd said, another to respond. "I'm fine, I-" you put a hand on his shoulder to brace him, feeling how tense it was, feeling it trying to move with the effort of his shallow breaths. Panic, shame, embarrassment, everything, seemed to claw at his chest, constricting his breathing even more. "I just- fuck, I can't- I can't-"

"You can't breathe," you said, understanding what was going on now with another flash of alarm that you hid, trying to stay calm. He nodded shakily.

"Carmen," you said steadily. To him, the sound of your voice was distant, overshadowed by the sound of his heart pounding loudly in his ears, muffled the way voices sounded when from underwater. Carmen knew he wasn't underwater. You called his name again, and he did his best to hear it. "You're having a panic attack."

He managed to shake his head again. "I'm fine. I just- shit." His legs practically gave out from underneath him and he braced one hand on the table behind him, one on your shoulder.

The sight of Carmen collapsing to the ground had you wanting to release a sob, but instead, you threw Carmen's arm around you and somehow managed to take two steps towards a bucket that was on the floor against a near wall and got him to sit down on it unsteadily.

You took both of his hands in yours, noticing how his shoulders shook, how the bottom of his neck tinted red from the straining effort to breathe.

"Carmen," you called, kneeling down to his level and giving his hands a squeeze. His vision was blurred, staring downwards, but the hazy sight of his hands wrapped up in yours gave his mind a moment's peace before he was struggling to focus again.

You took a deep breath in, feeling selfish that you even could. "Carm, do your best to look at me." You purposefully slowed your words, spoke softly and clearly, and Carmen heard. You took one hand and rested it by his cheek, hair pooling into your fingers. You brushed it back, and ran your thumb across the rise of his cheekbone, lifting his face to look upwards at you. Even when his mind could hardly form coherent thoughts, your touch still affected him like no one else's.

Once his eyes were on you, you took the hand that was still holding his and placed both on your own chest, covering the area of warm skin close enough to feel your heartbeat. A tremor rolled through him, at your hand, at the way you felt, at your touch.

You. You were here, he thought, and that was a comfort to him in itself.

"Here," you said, pressing down gently but firmly on his hand. "Can you feel my heartbeat?"

Carmen tried, really tried, but his head wasn't focusing no matter what he did. You noticed his struggle right away, like he didn't even have to form words for you to know.

Hurriedly, you took off your jacket and threw it to the ground beside you. Carmen heard the sound of a zipper before his hand was taken in yours again and placed on your chest. This time, the underside of his hand felt warmer, closer to you, to skin.

"How about now?" you asked. His eyes were shut, and he really did his best to focus this time, tune into you, into the way your chest moved up and down beneath his hand, and with it, he heard the soft and steadying rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Yeah, I- I feel it."

You let yourself smile slightly, trying to take slow and deliberate breaths. "Carmen, I need you to do your best to match your breathing with mine." You looked at him and the way his features were scrunching with the effort of trying to listen to you. "Can you do that for me?"

He nodded. He'd do anything for you.

He focused on only his hand, yours, and you. Your chest underneath his palm, warm, and steadying, and alive. He felt it rise once, and fall, all in the time that he let out multiple staggering breaths.

The next time yours rose, he didn't let himself exhale until you did, taking in air from his parted lips and releasing it through his nose, feeling how the air spread thin throughout his body, a good feeling. He did that again, focused on the way his fingertips grazed bare skin, on the sound of your heart beating, in time with his now.

Behind the blank nothingness of his eyelids, scenes played out before him. Visions of his past, echos of familiar voices, spurts of color and light overtaking him.

Then, he thought of you, of the warmth of your gaze, even if he didn't deserve it. The shine of your skin, the way it looked soft even in the harsh light of the kitchen. Thoughts of you, you with him, years ago, months ago, and days, how he'd seen you for the first time in months, standing behind the counter with a smile sweet like the chocolate bars you'd always liked, the one he'd left at your doorstep, a weak attempt at salvaging one of the best relationships he'd ever known. He'd buy a million more if it meant you'd stay with him, by his side, like you'd been for years. Like you were now.

He didn't know how much time had gone by, but he opened his eyes and you were still there, still holding onto him, face looking calm but eyes swirling with emotion. With concern.

He felt fine now, his body having enough strength to support him, but he leaned into you regardless, head sunk down, resting in the place beneath your chin, on your chest. He wanted to get as close to your heartbeat as possible, not just feel it with his hand but surround himself with it.

You brought your hands up to envelop him, one resting on the white cotton covering the hard muscles of his back, rubbing it soothingly, the other coming up to rest in his hair again, gently brushing through the strands closest to the root as if to say I'm here, I have you.

You leaned your own head down to slightly rest on the back of his, mouth brushing against the crown of his head in a way so delicate he wasn't even sure he felt it. But you saw the way he melted into your touch, felt the way the muscles in his back slowly seemed to release tension at each caress. He needed to be held. But he was him, he'd never ask for it. But, you were you, and you'd always know.

You stayed like that for minutes more, though you would've held him all night if he needed it. When he sat back up, the whites of his eyes were tinted pink, and one of his cheeks was gleaming in the light, damp. You didn't comment on it. You didn't say anything at all but stood up from where you knelt and walked towards the counters, peeking underneath them until you found what you needed. You stopped at the sink and returned to your spot in front of Carmen with a plastic deli container filled with water in hand. You offered it to him wordlessly.

"Thank you," he said, taking it from you gingerly, but his voice was hoarse and he felt the red heat of embarrassment as he took large sips of the water, draining it halfway at once. A water droplet escaped from the side of the cup, dripping down his chin, and your eyes followed the movement until you felt guilty about it and stared down at your own hands. The two of you let the silence rest as it was, peaceful and healing, until you felt ready to break it.

"I'm sorry," you said, slightly a surprise for yourself to hear the words from your mouth, but you meant them. Carmen sat back up. "For pushing you to this point. I didn't mean to-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Carmen spoke quietly, voice somehow steady. "It- ... that wasn't your fault. It's happened before, when you weren't here."

You let your eyes scan over his face concernedly because he wasn't looking straight at you and you always felt the need to look after him, even if he wouldn't let you.

"This has happened before?" Carmen gave a weak shrug, like this wasn't something he thought about on his own, something he ever let occupy his focus.

"Something like it."

You made a breathy sound of disbelief. "Shit, Carmen."

So many thoughts were demanding your attention, too many. You wanted to tell him how this wasn't supposed to be a normal occurrence, how not okay it was to ignore his mental well-being. Shake him silly for never caring about the right things, for never caring about himself enough. To give him yet another lecture on letting you help him, on letting anyone help him.

"It wasn't as bad this time." His voice paused all your thoughts. "I think it was because you were here."

You didn't know how to respond, but he finally looked into your eyes and saw how much they spoke for you, how they widened, and then blinked once or twice, shying away. Almost like you were guilty, like you were sad. Something inside of him reminded him that he was probably part of the reason for that, and that ate away at him more deeply than any of his, like you said, panic attacks, ever had.

"I'm sorry, Mars."

Your eyes flicked up to his immediately, intention behind them. "You never need to apologize for having a panic attack, Carmen."

"No, for- for not just that." He paused. "For being an ass. For yelling at you. For not listening to you."

You looked at him wordlessly. You didn't want to say it was okay, because you'd be lying if you said that, if you didn't acknowledge how his words still rang sharply in your head. But you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that Carmen certainly made things feel okay when he was calm like this, understanding. Peaceful.

"And I'm sorry for all the shit I gave you about not listening to me."

You let out a quick breath, almost a laugh. "To be fair, I ... didn't."

His heart seemed to swell at even just the hint of laughter that coated your voice.

"Yeah. You don't listen to me." He let the side of his mouth quirk up to match yours. "That's the thing I love about you." Internally he thought, just one of many.

You stared up at him. At the way his eyes seemed to look over your face in adoration. It did something to your heart, pulled on the strings of it, and left it panging in your chest. He noticed right away.

"You alright?" His concern and furrowed brows almost made you want to laugh.

"Yes I'm-," you exhaled. "I'm fine. The real question is, are you alright?" He watched as your eyes flitted all around his face. "To be honest, you don't seem it."

He self-deprecatingly chuckled. "Wow, thanks, Mars."

You shook his arm a little bit, expression disbelieving. "I'm serious."

You thought about how tense he'd been underneath your touch, how tense he'd seemed for the many days that you'd been back home. How that couldn't be healthy for anyone.

"You need to start taking better care of yourself, Carmen." You made sure he was hearing your every word. "Your mental health is important. More important than any job. You have to stop worrying so much about The Beef and start worrying more about you."

He ran a tired hand over his eyes, immediately feeling the urge to look away. "If I didn't put as much as I did into this place, I don't even think it'd still be up and running."

You let the words hang between the both of you for a moment, knowing how important this was to him. It was important to you too.

"I know how much you've done for this place, Carm." You took his hand in yours again. "You care about it a lot, always have. I have too. But you know the toll it's taking on you. That's not good for anyone, and it'll only last so long. And ... that's why I think you should take any help you can get, for now."

As soon as the topic left your lips again, you felt his hand stiffen in your hand, mouth opening to argue, but you held up a hand.

"And before you say anything, I don't care about the full salary, I don't I care about traveling, or 'wasting my potential' or any of that. I care about helping this place, making sure it lasts, for Mikey." You breathed. "And for you. I care about you."

He could feel his own heart start to race in his chest, flustered like he hadn't known you for years, like you weren't one of his oldest friends.

"I care about you too," he said, and the words felt shamefully foreign on his tongue, thinking about how little he'd ever actually said the words. "That's part of why it's hard for me to think about you working here. You mean a shit ton to me. More than anyone else in this damn place."

"You don't mean that." You couldn't stop the way your brows pushed together, looking down at your hand that was holding Carmen's rough and callused ones. "What about Richie, or Fak, or Sydney-"

"They mean a shit ton to me too, but it's ... not the same. You're you."

He looked into your eyes, trying to see if you'd recognized his hints, but he picked up emotions other than the realization. On a frown, on reluctance, on a guarded, shy look.

"I'll always be me, Carmen." You bit at the inside of your cheek, putting off the topic like you weren't important. That was a foreign idea to him. "That doesn't matter. What matters is you not accepting help."

You saw the way his demeanor shifted at your words, a sense of uncomfortableness settling in his bones, revealing itself in the way he sat up straighter. Your grip on his hands was still firm, unwavering, like all you wanted was to make him understand.

"Carmen," you called, but he was already staring at you. "Promise me that you'll let other people take care of you, help you get by. Let me help you."

He was grateful for the way he was positioned, elbows leaning on knees, hands held by yours, because it was stabilizing him, grounding him when he felt like running. He knew that if he wanted to keep you around, keep you by him, he couldn't do that. That didn't change the fact that this was new to him.

"I, um,"

"It doesn't have to all at once." You gave him a smile, a real one, because you knew he was trying. Breaking out of old habits, for you. "One step at a time."

You were back home. Him pushing you away in his head, running, but only in his mind, didn't change that. He didn't want it to. Despite the pull of his mind telling him to hold you at a distance, the push of his heart wanted you. It was drawn to the cradle of your hands, the warmth of your smile.

"I promise."

Your smile grew to a grin that tugged at the sides of your glowing eyes, eyes that sparkled with affection like they held a hidden invitation, a plea for him to let you in. He finally did, and he knew so fully that he would've made that promise to you time and time again if it meant he could have you and see that smile as much as he wanted.

Your fingers brushed the back of his hands as you stood up from where you were kneeling, letting out an exhale that he noticed sounded almost weightless, a change from the burdened way it sounded to him before. The thought put him at ease.

He stood up too, watching you as you retrieved your jacket and put it on, him feeling the urge to help you with even just that. When you focused back on him, the etches of a smile still lingering on your face, it was magnetic. He couldn't look away. You couldn't either.

You stared at the way a hundred different colors danced in the blue of his eyes, a miraculous feat that you'd loved from the start. As you looked at each other, eyes saying more than your mouths had the courage to, your smile grew slowly, heartbeat picking up in your chest.

"Let me walk you to your car," you coaxed, gesturing towards the door. He laughed at the random idea, breaths escaping through his nose.

"What? Why?"

You shrugged, smile and features and everything, warm. "Call it the first step to you fulfilling your promise to me."

Knowing how he'd iced you out, he embraced that warmth. Made it his new home. "Yeah," he nodded. "Okay."

You gestured for him to follow you, he did, and that was all he had to do. You turned off the lights behind the both of you, locked the door, and didn't ask him to do a thing, just to see the amused look on his face when you smiled at him, his eyes staring back at yours like you were a wonder, something rare to be loved and kept safe.

As you walked back to his car, that was all he could think about. How he'd come across this ray of light in his life that was you, and how you'd stayed by his side, a miraculous idea but he didn't even want to dwell on that too much because it took him away from this moment being shared between the two of you, alone, the cold nipping at your skin but it not mattering because too much had happened that night to care.

The moment seemed to come to an end all too quickly. Carmen had stopped once you'd both reached his car, and you did too. He became aware of the feeling of you next to him, savoring it because he knew it'd end the moment he got into his car.

"Carmy," you said, extending the moment just a little longer. He hummed in response, watching as you stuffed your hands in your coat pockets.

"Can you promise me one more thing?"

He nodded, not missing a beat. " Yeah, anything." Something inside of you fluttered. You cast it aside to hold his gaze.

"Promise me you'll always try and tell me what's going on in your head. No more hiding."

His eyes bore into yours like he was contemplating something, a flicker of conflict in them, a vulnerability that you didn't know what to think of. Then, it was gone and you weren't even sure you'd seen it.

"Yeah, I- um," his jaw tightened for a second. "I promise, Mars."

You patted him on the shoulder, a friendly gesture that felt phony even to you. "Great ... that's great."

He flashed a closed-mouthed smile and you both stood there on the sidewalk for a moment, not saying a word.

"Goodnight," you told him, because it was what you would've said to anyone else at that moment, ignoring the whispers in your mind telling you something was missing, that Carmen wasn't just anyone else.

Something tugged at him too, nagging him, insisting that he had more to tell you, more to say before the night was really over, before he had to go to work the next day and somehow navigate his day with the new promises he'd made you. But all he said was "Goodnight, Mars," before getting in his car with just a wave goodbye that felt bare and wrong.

You left him one more of your smiles through the passenger window of his car before walking off to wherever you'd parked your own. He was sure he'd felt butterflies. Butterflies.

Only you could do this to him. He'd felt numb, overwhelmed and unsatisfied all the same time for however long, and then you come back to Chicago and suddenly he felt everything, all the time. It was getting to him, clearly, because he found himself opening his car door and stepping out of it, losing control of his body, loosening his grip of rationality all because of you. Because he wanted to see you, needed to. He needed you.

You were a good distance away from his car by the time he'd gotten out of his, but you turned around at the sound of the car door practically slamming. You frowned, noticing Carmen walking towards you.

"Carmen?" you called into the night, confused. He caught up with you, something behind his gaze that had his eyes shimmering. You swore you could feel the delicate movement of his eyes across your face as soon as he was near enough to truly take it in.

He took hold of your hand, fingers interlocking with yours delicately, an electrifying feeling buzzing through you. You let out a small gasp at the contact, vision shooting down at the point at which you both touched, just a hand hold but the contact took your full focus.

"Hey," he said, something like a smile creeping onto his features and you'd never seen him like this, so exhilarated and full of delicate determination. You looked back up into his eyes, and he took a step closer, finally letting himself be pulled by that magnetic force calling him to you that he couldn't resist. He wouldn't, anyway.

"Wh-," you started, meaning to question him but the thought was brushed aside when he leaned inwards, his forehead falling against yours. His curls brushed against the top of your head, and you secretly loved the feeling, becoming breathless.

"You can tell me to stop, Mars." He murmured it so close to you, breath fanning onto your cheek in a distracting but addictive way, and suddenly you were forgetting how to talk. It didn't matter, because you didn't want him to stop. You looked back up at him, and he saw that in your eyes, so he didn't.

His lips brushed against yours, a taste of what he'd been wanting for longer than he could even remember. The feeling it sent throughout him was immobilizing, and he stayed like that, eyes shut, reveling in it.

It was you who closed the distance, pressing your lips to his and letting the dizzying wave from it spread all over you, to the tips of your fingers that immediately reached up to hold his firm shoulders, and to your brain that buzzed in joy and excitement and a bit of something else.

He froze up for a second when he felt your lips crashing into his. Your lips on his felt like the answers to all his problems, and he needed them in a burning, unignorable way. His brows furrowed and his hands reached up to cradle your neck delicately, holding you like you were more valuable than anything he could've bought, anything he could've wished for, could've imagined he could possibly have.

His lips tugged on yours and yours tugged back, a rhythm that felt easy to follow, like the deep thrum of a heartbeat. And when you both finally pulled apart for air, it was like you could still feel that rhythm, because your heartbeats were beating so loudly and in time with each other's that it felt like the moment was never meant to come to an end.

Your foreheads were still connected, and you knew neither of you had it in you to pull away. You felt somehow even more breathless.

"What was that for?" Your voice was soft, hoarse. You swore you saw Carmen's lip quirk upwards.

"I promised to not hide what was going on in my head." Your hands came up to delicately wrap around his biceps, impossibly solid underneath your fingertips. He didn't suppress the shudder that traveled through him. "Call that the first step."

You smiled, this time against his lips, and somehow that beat every single smile you'd ever given him before. It felt like a promise of your own, to share your warmth with him from now on. He liked the idea, a lot. He'd let you do it whenever you wanted, he liked it that much.

He'd let you take care of him whenever you wanted, too. Again and again, until you got sick of him. But he was Carmen Berzatto. You knew you never would.

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