some trailer things:
big fight around lust/ozzie's place that involves m&m and loona + we know fizzarolli is going to make another appearance, so i wonder how that'll connect potentially. also, new villain?
obvs the whole section of CHERUB working with DHORKS and this massive thing/portal:
john waters big villain episode???? (ghostfuckers from the looks of things)
also more crossdressing in that same episode + millie vs possessed blitz? both millie and blitz giving some evil dead type vibes?
more on stolas' whole social sphere and potential judgement and hell's class politics related to his dating blitz + p much confirmed that blitz will not take stolas' gift in the spirit it was intended
also, "you fucks think you can do this every time-" feels not just like it's about the wider class issues in hell, but maybe like it's personal (potentially with verosika? although it does seem like it's canon that he had more than a little bit of a hand in ending that relationship, so could just be him echoing everything he's been seeing in the treatment of imps and putting that onto stolas in this moment)
and then "thank you blitz, for making me so happy, even for a little while" is during this moment too. lot of teasers for how this is gonna go down (badly, upsettingly, emotionally)
the whole "do you feel any remorse for what you do" feels like a misdirect -- that is, it's edited to look like it's about blitz, but i feel like it's directed at stella or her brother
generally a lot of fun stolas visuals that i won't get into here, but am excited to see more contexts for
also this isn't new, but im always interested in blitz's heart/broken-heart forehead marking
blitz and tilla moment! generally more flashbacks (in the shape of blitz seeming to be almost at the movies, watching his own "failures") around the time of the fire! i didn't see any barbie stuff, alas, but the rest of it looks !!! also lowkey confirmed it was cash who stopped blitz from seeing fizz in hospital
who's this?
another sin? maybe related to ozzie and/or stolas and that judgement of the kinds of people they love?
blitz protecting stolas - maybe from the above, considering the hand motif of it all... stolas really living the life of blitz as a romantic hero, while blitz is barely holding it together as a person the whole time. different genres, my guys. different genres (that's their real communication issue)
this fuck-you-blitz cake looks like a verosika thing to do, esp considering it's her calling him shitty in the VO -- but yay, maybe giving that verosika catharsis, but also generally just verosika!
also the VO part where he says he doesn't want to be this way, he's wearing the same shroud as during his confrontation with verosika. idk, im just. contexts for things. i am curious
is the below also the same episode? I'd think so. it's set during halloween (?) and blitz is then maybe in the blood-covered shroud (costume? undercover? going undercover as a ghost? post-breakup stalking undercover ghost costume?)
MAMMON! and he looks pleased. oh dear.
this blitz + fizz moment
it kinda looks like blitz is wearing the same tee as when he and stolas have their moment + a horse bag + fizz casual wear. fizz generally in this trailer seems to be having the best time (outside the flashbacks). everything makes me suspicious all the time
(also generally hello all the different outfits coming up!!)
fascinated by this:
is that millie?
things we didn't see:
no barbie, no striker, no crimson, no asmodeus (directly, although his imagery is everywhere + fizz and mammon appear), no paimon -- this not to say none of them will show up, but am enjoying that a lot of this is clearly pulling from s1, with the focus on verosika, DHORKS, and CHERUB -- potentially a lot of the s2 villains need some time to lick their wounds a bit (and paimon was never a Villain, just a terrible parent... if he ever returns though...)
and barbie... i do want to see barbie again soonish ngl, she needs some proper introducing, but this is already giving so much callback and continuation of immediate plot-threads, very excited
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••• Sharing the Bed•••
Frank Castle x AFAB Reader
Reader is wondering how things will be with Frank now after asking him to be her fake boyfriend at her sister’s wedding.
3.9k words
Inspired by the faking dating prompts from @thelonelyempath https://www.tumblr.com/thelonelyempath/705043295893618688/fake-dating-prompts?source=share
Using prompt #25 “I kinda liked sharing the bed with you”
I’ve had such a writing bug lately and im taking advantage of it while i’ve got it! Enjoy xxx
You were nervous to see him again.
It had been a couple weeks since you’d convinced Frank to be your fake boyfriend for your sister’s wedding.
You had panicked when your mom called you at work, saying you had pushed it off long enough and she needed an answer right now if you were bringing a plus one or not.
You almost said no, but after she made a snide comment about already knowing the answer—she was just asking as a courtesy to your sister—you cracked and told her you’d been seeing someone for months now.
When she asked who, your eyes had landed on one of the few patrons left at the bar that night.
Frank Castle.
Surprisingly he agreed to go. It was probably the desperation in your voice and the pleading of your eyes—you didn’t have time to think about how pathetic you felt—but you were thankful nonetheless.
It’s been 14 days since you got back and you haven’t seen him since. Not that you were counting the days or anything.
No texts.
No phone calls.
Just silence.
Normally you wouldn’t think much of it. Even though Frank had become a regular at the bar and restaurant you worked at, he’d disappear for days and weeks at a time.
You’d try and make small talk when he came back. Hoping to get any kind of inclination as to what Frank Castle got up to in his spare time.
He was still such a mystery to you. A very attractive mystery at that. One that you were determined to figure out.
However, as much as you tried, you never got the answer you were searching for.
It was always “business” or “nothing you’d find interesting, sweetheart”.
You never really gave it much thought when he offered those responses, you just accepted that Frank was not an open book. He was a locked book. One kept on the highest shelf that you’d probably never be able to reach.
And yet despite knowing all this you couldn’t help but wonder if your time away together had anything to do with his sudden absence.
You worried things would get awkward. Especially after having to share a bed together. He offered to sleep on the floor but you shot that down quick.
Not only would you feel enormously guilty having him sleep on the hardwood floor—he complained about his back a lot—but you were worried someone might walk in and your fake dating charade would unravel.
The silent crush you’d been harboring had only gotten louder after several days with Frank. Having to hold hands, talk sweetly to each other and even slow dance at the wedding had your mind all in a haze.
What was real and what wasn’t?
Did he feel anything? Or was he just a really good actor?
It was driving you crazy.
One thing was for certain, your family adored him. Especially your equally intimidating, hard-to-please father.
In fact, your dad liked him so much he invited him to go hunting in a few months.
It had taken years before he even extended an invite like that to your sister’s now husband.
You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing when you watched the way his eyes had widened and mouth parted when Frank agreed to go—your sister offering a reassuring pat to his arm.
You figured it had something to do with the fact they were both veterans. Your dad took an instant liking to anyone who could relate to the struggle and strength it took to serve in the military.
And your mother. The way she fawned over everything Frank said and did. His manners, how he consistently answered with “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am”.
She just about fell over when she came into the kitchen one morning to find he had managed to fix that pesky dishwasher that had been giving her trouble for months.
You smiled at the memory, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Another thought had overshadowed it. One that caused a sudden pit to form in your stomach. How were you going to break the news to your family that things with Frank weren’t working out?
The plan was to give it a few weeks and then call to let them know you’d decided to take some time apart. You were both realizing you needed different things, but you would remain friends.
It sounded reasonable, but now? You didn’t think you could handle their disappointment.
You’d never seen them so proud of you. So happy for you. Pleasing your parents always felt like an impossible task. The closer you got there was always some dip in the road that caused that approval to move further and further away.
You finally bring someone home that they approved of only to rip the hope away from them. You were sure they’d find some way to blame it all on you.
You were starting to remember what it felt like when you told them you wouldn’t be going to college.
It didn’t matter that you were excellent at your job, managing both the bar and the restaurant on your own. It didn’t matter that you were able to make more than enough money to support yourself. And it certainly didn’t matter that you had helped exceed the profit goals of each quarter since you started.
It didn’t matter that you had been busting your ass to save back money to buy the place for yourself when the owner retired soon.
It only mattered that you didn’t have a “career” or a family to call your own.
Frank had picked up on the tension pretty early on. He did his best to talk you up. You found it sweet. Endearing even.
One night, while the two of you were dancing to some slow, sappy song your sister picked out, Frank called you out on your off demeanor.
You were surprised he noticed, you thought you had mastered the art of appearing fine when deep down you really weren’t.
“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he spoke lowly in your ear. One of his hands rested on the small of your back while the other held your hand close to his chest. His thumb ran back and forth along your hand and you tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies wreaking havoc on your stomach.
“I’m wondering how Uncle Steven has managed to go this long without throwing up. I thought for sure the cupid shuffle would’ve done it.”
Frank turned to look in the direction you were staring. Your Uncle Steven was somehow still performing the steps to the dance from 3 songs ago. Frank lightly chuckled as he watched Steven spill some of his beer on the couple next to him.
Though he couldn’t deny he was also wondering how the old man hadn’t crashed yet, he knew that’s not what you were really thinking about.
You were trying to deflect.
He was starting to learn just how stubborn you could be, but unlucky for you, Frank wasn’t gonna let you off the hook that easily.
“Nah that ain’t it.” he shook his head. “I can tell there’s a lot more going on behind those eyes.”
You were slightly relieved the lights were dim in the reception so he couldn’t see the deep blush heating up your face. You weren’t good at making eye contact with people you were crushing on.
“I think you’re imagining things.” you replied avoiding his gaze. “I’m just tired, I think this week is finally catching up to me.”
“Hm.” Frank hummed.
“What?”
“I think we’re about to have our first fight.”
You scoffed, ”Oh yeah? and what’s this ‘first fight’ gonna be about?”
“How you’re lying to your boyfriend.” he replied, speaking low into your ear again. It shouldn’t have caused the hairs on your neck to stand up but it certainly did.
“Look, you listen to assholes mope and complain all day long about their sad fucked up lives. I think it’s only fair to return the favor.” he shrugged. “So tonight i’ll do your job and you can let it all out right now. Minus the crude comments and shitty tips.”
You were about to laugh and lightly shove Frank for messing with you, but the look on his face made you pause.
He was being serious.
“Is it your folks?” he asked. “I saw your face when your dad gave that speech. That smile you were forcin’, it didn’t reach your eyes.”
You bit your lip and lowered your stare to the dress shirt he was wearing, playing nervously with one of the buttons to avoid looking up at him.
“That obvious huh?” you laughed sadly.
Frank felt bad as he watched the hurt wash over your features. He knew all too well the overwhelming pressure to please one’s family. He grew up with an overbearing father who never thought he’d amount to anything.
He knew how much that disappointment could eat you alive.
“It’s just, no matter what I do. I know my dad will never speak about me the way he does my sister. She’s an ivy league graduate who just got into med school. She’s married now, moving to a new city and probably going to be popping out kids before the end of next year. and me? In his eyes I'm just a bartender in a small town with no ambitious goal in sight.”
Frank nodded in understanding. He could see from the outside how the comparison could make you feel that way.
“Are you happy?”
You thought about it for a second. Even though the job had its ups and downs—managing a restaurant and a busy bar was no easy feat—you could honestly say you enjoyed what you did.
You got to know a lot of the locals well and it always made you feel good to know that you’d helped make their day or night a little better.
You loved the house you recently bought. It was a bit of a fixer upper but it was yours.
You loved how independent you were. How you could come home after a long day and you didn’t have to cook for a litter of kids.
It was just your dog, cat and you.
“Honestly? Yeah, I think I am.”
“Then fuck em.” he shrugged.
“Frank I-”
“Nah, nah.” he cut you off. “I know that’s your family but that don’t mean they’re always right. If you like what you do and you’re happy then who gives a shit what anyone else thinks.”
You processed Frank’s words and while you knew he was probably right, it didn’t mean it was easy to just tune out your parents’ criticism.
Frank seemed to know what you weren’t saying out loud because he followed it up with something that made your heart swell.
“All i’m saying is if they can look at you and what you’re doing and feel anything but proud there’s something wrong with ‘em. Not you.”
You could’ve kissed him right there but the song had ended and couples were clearing the dance floor.
Instead you walked back to the table with Frank, your arm looped through his.
You couldn’t help but think about how this man was screwing with your heart and your head and he didn’t even know it.
That much was still true all these days later. At this point you were dying for him to show up again.
Even if he didn’t talk to you, you’d at least know he wasn’t avoiding this whole place because of you.
The night was winding down, the 2 am crowd had begun to disperse and your eyes were fighting hard to stay awake. You’d chosen to work a double today, one of the other bartenders had a family emergency.
In your 20s you could work shifts like this and bounce right back the next day but now? In your 30s you were lucky if you managed to wake up without an achy back and sore feet.
“Phil, I'm gonna run the last of the trash out and then I'm heading home. I left the keys to lock up in the front drawer.” you shouted to the line cook in the back.
You could see him mopping up the kitchen floor so you knew he wouldn’t be too far behind you.
“You sure you don’t want me to go with ya this time?” he shouted back, “I’d hate for a creepy critter to make you run like you’d seen a ghost again.”
You rolled your eyes as Phil roared with laughter. Referencing the one time a little group of racoons had taken up residence inside the restaurant dumpster and sent you running like Freddy Krueger himself was chasing you.
“I think i’ll manage this time Phil, thanks for looking out.” you replied playfully.
You picked up the large trash bags and backed into the front door to head out. It was really inconvenient but they recently had moved the trash compactor across the street.
Not only was it annoying during the day when the streets were busy but it was extra spooky at night.
Once you were out of the door you turned around only to gasp and drop the trash bags you were holding.
“Jesus, Frank.” you cried, “What the hell were you trying to do, give me a fucking heart attack?”
You were too distracted by the adrenaline coursing through your veins to realize the man you’d been waiting to see for the last two weeks was finally standing in front of you.
“My bad, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. I tried to go by your place and you weren’t there so I figured you might be here.”
You blew out a puff of hair and a couple pieces of your hair went flying.
“You were looking for me?”
“Yeah, sorry I know it’s late. I wanted to make sure you got this back. Somehow I think it got mixed up in my things.”
Frank pulled out a pink phone charger from his jacket pocket and extended it out to you.
You had a million of these things scattered around your house so you honestly hadn’t noticed it was missing. It was sweet of him to bring it back to you though.
“Oh Frank, you didn’t have to worry about that.” you replied, walking forward to retrieve it. “But thank you”.
You beamed a genuine smile at Frank while holding up the charger in your hand and he thought his heart had grown 2 sizes. Just like the Grinch his kids used to watch.
There was something about your smile that always stopped him in his tracks. He would never get tired of seeing it.
“Nah it’s nothin’.” he shrugged. “May I?”
He gestured toward the garbage bags sitting on the ground and bent over to pick them up.
“You don’t have to!” you tried to stop him, but subconsciously you knew it would be pointless.
Frank was always a gentleman and while he knew you would have no trouble carrying them on your own, he wouldn’t feel right not offering a hand.
“Can I atleast carry one of them?” you asked sweetly.
There was that damn smile again. How could he say no?
The two of you walked in silence for a bit, it wasn’t awkward but it was clear you were both trying to think of what to say next.
How do two people that recently spent a week pretending to be a couple go back to normal?
You decided to break the silence as the two of you walked back toward the bar.
“I, um, never got to properly thank you for helping with my family. I know it was probably a bit weird but it meant more to me than you could ever know. I think my parents would’ve had us get married that same night if it were up to them.” you laughed, playing nervously with your hands.
“Is that right?” Franked looked down at you with an amused expression.
“God, yes. I think you’re probably gonna be the only guy I bring home that they will ever like. I actually feel bad for the next guy that has to live up to the great Frank Castle.” you nudged him as you walked and he let out the most glorious laugh you’d ever heard.
You wanted to hear that more.
“Well if i’m the measuring stick for all the future men in your life then it’s your parents I feel sorry for.”
“Hey!” you exclaimed, playfully swatting his shoulder, “What do you mean by ‘all the future men in your life’? You think I still got a revolving door of men to get through before I finally settle down?”
It was meant to be playful banter, but there was a look that settled in Frank’s eyes and the mood suddenly got a bit more serious.
“I sure hope not.”
You weren’t sure how to take his comment. Maybe you were over analyzing but there was a part of you that was hoping he said that because he wanted you.
Wishful thinking of course.
You cleared your throat to help ease the tension.
“So, you just get back from whatever mystery place you squandered off to?”
“Just taking care of some business, sweetheart.”
That famous phrase again. You simply nodded. Accepting once again that you would probably not get any further information than that.
“But you know it’s funny.” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “There I was, lying in bed in some run down roach motel off the highway, having a hell of time trying to fall asleep each night.
“It coulda been the state of the motel—that place was a real shitbox—but the more I laid there, the more I realized it felt like I was missing something.”
Frank started fidgeting a bit. Almost like he was nervous or something. It was strange. You didn't think a guy like him got nervous.
“I realized, I kinda liked sharing the bed with you.”
Your heart started hammering away in your chest. Did you hear him right? Frank Castle liked sharing a bed with you? So much so that it was keeping him up at night?
You had to be dreaming.
“Really?”
You tried to act nonchalant but the word came out all high and squeaky. You don’t think Frank noticed though.
“Yeah, believe it or not I’d gotten so used to having no covers at night, I just tossed the damn thing on the ground.”
You gasped and punched his shoulder slightly. “Hey, I warned you I would probably take all the blankets. You coulda pulled them right back.”
Frank laughed again.
“Nah, you were too cute wrapped up like a burrito. Besides, I was more worried if I tried you’d whack my head or kick my nuts. You sure do move around a lot in your sleep.”
You feigned hurt, placing a hand to your chest.
“And just why do you miss sharing a bed with me so much? It doesn't sound so pleasant based on what you’re saying.”
Frank looked off and smiled. “I don’t know.”
A comfortable silence fell between the two of you.
“Look, uh, I’m not really good at this. I’ve been out of the game for a long time so you’ll have to forgive me but-”
“Frank Castle.” you cut him off.
“Yeah?”
“Are you about to ask if you can sleep in my bed tonight?”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up and a panicked sort of look took residence on his face. “Shit, no I didn’t mean it like that. I was just-”
He stopped when he saw you throw your head back in laughter.
“What?” he asked, trying to fight off the smile that was beginning to form on his own face. Your laugh was just too damn contagious.
“I’m sorry,” you said between breaths,”You shoulda seen your face. I was just messing with you Frank.”
“Oh yeah?” he laughed, poking your side. “You think that shit was funny huh?”
Suddenly you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and over Frank’s shoulder. “I can be real fucking hilarious. How about I carry you home just like this?”
“Frank!” you screamed playfully, swatting at his back. “Put me down you asshole!”
“No, I think I like this view better.”
You continued to hit his back and laugh. You were just about to come back with your own smart comment when you heard a car pull up beside you.
“Is everything alright here?”
You turned to look, adjusting your hair so it was out of your face. It was an officer staring at you both with a confused expression.
You could’ve sworn you heard Frank growl a little bit.
“Uh we’re good officer!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.
“She had a bit too much to drink tonight. Tried to drive home. Just makin sure she gets home safe. She’s a stubborn thing.” Frank spoke up, making sure to pat your ass for dramatic effect.
The officer seemed to buy this story.
“Well miss, you got a good man there. You should probably listen to him more often.” he replied before rolling up the window.
You gasped and Frank roared with laughter.
“Thanks officer!” he shouted as the man drove away.
You poked his side hard and he finally released you, setting you down in front of him. Your faces were real close together now, and the smiles you both had slowly fell.
There was a quiet moment before you quickly leaned in and kissed Frank. He seemed surprised at first but thankfully responded and pulled you in tighter.
His hands roamed your body while yours held his face.
You pulled away gently, and he rested his forehead on yours.
“You know, I thought you’d been avoiding me.” you said quietly.
“Yeah?” he replied, moving a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I know you disappear sometimes but I thought this time was gonna be different.”
Frank nodded, running his hands down your shoulders before grabbing both of your hands in his own.
“You know, I got a confession.” he said quietly, “I swiped that phone charger before we left.”
You leaned back and looked up at him.
“What?”
He let out a soft chuckle. “I know it’s stupid but I wanted an excuse to see you again. Like I said, it's been a while since I’ve done anything like this and I didn’t think I could just approach you in the bar like before.”
“It’s not stupid.” you smiled, squeezing his hands. “It’s sweet.”
“So i’m sweet now? Just a second ago I was a asshole.”
“Both can be true.” you shrugged.
He scoffed. “Come here.”
Frank pulled you into him and you wrapped your arms around his waist. He placed a kiss on your head and it suddenly felt like it did when you were with your parents.
It just felt natural.
“Let me take you out.” he said, pulling back and tilting your chin up at him. “On a real date.”
You bit your lip and smiled, “I’d like that.”
“Good.” he replied before kissing you again.
“Now let’s go before that cop comes back around and you gotta act drunk for him.”
You rolled your eyes, “Whatever you say, Frank. I gotta listen to you more right?”
“Attagirl.” he smiled, before putting his arm around your shoulder.
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GhostGaz Week - sweet talk // missed connection
I'm so so so excited to have participated in @ghostgazweek this year! It's the first time I've done an event like this and it's brought me so much joy. To everyone who has read and commented on my work this week, thank you! I'm so excited to play with some of these concepts some more.
CW: Relationships between coworkers, mutual pining, front of house/back of house relations, Phillip Graves (derogatory), kissing, a taste of dirty talk
“Takin’ my ten,” Kyle tells his manager, pulling his phone from his pocket. Price nods, waving him off and assigning Kyle’s tables to Alex and Nova. He swings into the kitchen with an absent wave as he checks his messages and steps out back.
“’M no’ sayin’ ye have’ t’ declare yer love in front o’ the whole bloody team.”
Kyle perks up at the sound of Soap’s voice, but back-of-house gossip is going to have to wait while he tries to figure out what his off-again situationship is complaining about now. Or not - the meltdown in his messages is not worth dealing with. Just as he’s about the round the corner though, the growl of Simon’s voice freezes him.
“That’ll do, Soap.”
Kyle has to bite his lip to keep from gasping. Simon isn’t the head chef - that’s Farah - but he might as well be her right hand. He’s the glue of the weekend dinner rush. Level headed no matter what, rarely raises his voice above a raspy muttering, huge hands that Kyle has seen split an apple in half without a hint of visible effort. Whoever he dates is going to be envied by the entire front of house. Partially because he’s bloody gorgeous. But partly because he’s just the perfect man.
“Nae, yer gonna listen t’me,” Soap insists. “I promise, ‘e’s interested.”
“’E’s not,” Simon says. “Already tried flirtin’ wit’ ‘im. No dice.”
“Leavin’ a note wit’ yer phone number - in a pile of other notes with phone numbers - is no’ flirtin,” Soap says, and Kyle can imagine the despair on his face just from the tone of his voice. “Do you ken ‘ow many o’ those damn notes ‘e gets in a night?”
“Exactly. And he’s got a bird.”
“They broke up last week,” Soap hisses. “She’s shacking up with her ex.”
Kyle would snicker at how close he sounds to pulling his hair out but…
Kyle’s situationship ended last week. Because she moved in with her ex and Kyle doesn’t want to go through that roller coaster, again. And Kyle’s the flirt on shift, so he gets the most notes and phone numbers on receipts…
“’E’s got better prospects,” Simon says. Kyle hears the flick of a lighter. “Gorgeous, competent, charismatic? Kyle could have anyone.”
“And ‘e wants you, ye daft fucker,” Soap groans. “Steamin’ Jesus the two of ye. Just fuckin’ tell ‘im.”
“Tell you what,” Simon grumbles, muffled by his cigarette. “If he comes out here before my break’s done, I’ll tell ‘im.”
“Then ah’ll go in an- Oh you mother fucker! 30 seconds?”
Simon sounds amused when he says, “Tick tock.”
Kyle probably couldn’t ask for a better dramatic entrance, so he rounds the corner with a, “What’d I miss?”
Soap yelps and clutches at his chest like an old woman. Leaning against the wall, Simon looks about as surprised as he ever does, which means there’s a hunted look around his eyes, but he mostly looks tired and resigned. He settles into his thousand yard stare and takes a long drag.
“Gaz-bear!” Soap exclaims. He circles behind Kyle and shoves him forward. “Simon has something to tell you that is of a very personal nature. Do not let him distract you with talk about the kitchen! I love both of ye and ah’m tellin’ Price to fire both of ye if ye don’t talk!”
And then he’s slamming back into the kitchen, leaving Simon and Kyle alone in the alley.
He could play coy, but Kyle’s a bit giddy. “You like me, Simon?”
Simon grunts, contemplates his cigarette as he says, “Wondered ‘ow much of that you ‘eard. But don’t worry, I’ll keep professional.”
“God no.” Kyle can’t imagine anything wants less. “Tell me when you wrote me that note.”
“Dunno," Simon shrugs. "6 weeks after that shit with Graves?”
Two years ago, before Price took over, Phillip Graves had been the manager. He’d been a nightmare, harassing hostesses and firing anyone who dared to point out he was bad at his job. After the tenth straight day of a front of house person running into the kitchen to cry, pursued by Graves himself, Simon had had enough.
“I c’n make this a much more hostile working environment if tha’s what we’re aimin’ for.” The big beautiful bastard had shoved his knife a good quarter inch through a cutting board. The reverberation of the blade had rung through the painfully silent kitchen. All of the back of house looked to Farah for direction. She'd looked at Simon. Kyle, Nova, Alex, and the girl they’d been consoling by the fridges had all held their breath.
“I could fire you,” Phil spat.
“You won’t. You fuck with this kitchen, you’re losing your job,” Simon had answered. The fact that he had looked and sounded bored had scared and aroused Kyle in equal measure. “So ‘ere’s what’s going to happen - Keller and Garick are supervisors now. Pay them like it. You got a problem with front o’ house, you talk to them. Another girl comes runnin’ in here, then I‘m coming out there an’ you and I are ‘avin’ words.”
Graves had sputtered, looked around at everyone gathered, then spun on his heel and left.
Three months later, he’d gone missing. Two weeks after that, Price had arrived, greeting Farah and Simon like old friends and preparing to make the restaurant the best Kyle had ever worked at.
What did it say about Kyle that rumors that Simon had gotten rid of Graves for good only made him more attractive?
“That was more than a year ago,” Kyle says, sidling his way under Simon’s arm and leaning into him. Kyle’s not a short man, but Simon is tall and broad and warm under his work tee. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Simon takes another drag, and looks down at Kyle out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not exactly dating material. And you had a bird.”
“I would have dumped her in a heartbeat,” Kyle admits, startled when Simon barks a surprised laugh. “I would have! Fuck, I could have been sneaking out here with you for seven months? I’ll break up with her again right now.”
“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Simon laughs, smashing his cigarette into the wall and dropping the butt into flower pot turned butt bin. He doesn’t move his arm from around Kyle’s shoulders.
“We’re dating now,” Kyle declares. “We’re boyfriends.”
“Movin’ kinda fast,” Simon points out.
“I’ve been in love with you for more than a year. Catch up,” Kyle dismisses. “My lease is up in four months, and I’m movin’ in with you. Now kiss me.”
Simon doesn’t hesitate. His lips are just the slightest bit rough. He smells like cigarettes and spices, and he turns to bracket Kyle against the wall. One large hand finds it’s way to the small of Kyle’s back to pull him in and press their hips together.
“Fuck,” Simon growls when Kyle moans against his mouth. “Pretty, pushy thing. Gonna be this demanding all the time, Gorgeous?”
“I have a lot of time to make up for,” Kyle groans, nibbling kisses along his jaw. “You should let me blow you.”
“Oh, should I?” Simon’s rumbling laugh sends shivers down his spine. “Should let Farah and Price catch you choking on my cock?”
Well, if Kyle was half-hard before, he’s rock hard now. “God, yeah, let me.”
“Not yet,” Simon growls, and that yet sends sparks flying through Kyle’s veins. His next kisses are just this side of too rough, tongue and teeth making Kyle’s lips so sensitive. Finally, he pulls himself away to pant into Kyle’s ear, “Let me take you on a date, huh, Gorgeous? Let me take you out, wine and dine you. Wanna know all about you, wanna talk about something other than work for more than five minutes. Then I’ll take you home and lay you out. Kiss you all over, suck that gorgeous cock of yours, yeah?"
“Jesus,” Kyle hisses. He tries to rock his hips into Simon’s, but strong hands hold him back. “Yeah, okay, yeah. Kiss me again.”
Simon laughs, dips down to give Kyle another closed-mouthed kiss. “Gotta head back in.”
“No,” Kyle pants. “Kiss me again.”
Simon growls into the next kiss and shifts to press his whole front into Kyle. When he pulls back, he presses a thumb against Kyle’s lips. “Be patient, Gorgeous. Gotta get through work tonight.”
He knows he’s pushing it, but, “…kiss me again.”
Simon’s lips are achingly gentle for a moment and then they’re gone as he takes a step back. “’M goin’ inside, now.”
“Thai food after work?” Kyle pants.
Simon chuckles and adjusts himself. “Yeah.” He swoops in for another brief peck. “It’s a date.”
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