Third Time's a Charm
Title: Third Time's a Charm
Pairing: Jongdae/Chanyeol
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: Language, allergic reactions, graphic descriptions of ferrets
Disclaimer: I own nothing, written just for fun.
Summary: Jongdae really needs to make a list of Things Customer #11 Is Allergic To, for the welfare of the general public as well as his personal sanity. As for Chanyeol...Chanyeol just might be allergic to everything but the cute kittenish waiter that almost murdered him.
A/N: Originally posted over at Chenpionships 2014
It’s been a long day. First of all, Jongdae’s boss made him come into work early for a special training seminar on smiling, even though Jongdae’s smile is already perfect, thank you very much--perfectly professional yet charming, with a hint of something spicy.
Really, the last way he wanted to spend his Saturday morning was crowded between empty pickle crates in the back room, watching a video of some overly happy twink named Luhan teach them all how to smile. It was an eight part video, for goodness’ sake. On how to smile. Jongdae is pretty sure he was proficient in smiling before he learned how to walk, even in the so-called “advanced techniques”, like Part VIII: How to Fake an Eye Smile Naturally.
“Any questions?” Joonmyun asks at the end of the credits, one foot propped on an empty crate. He pauses the video on the dinosaur of a TV which is usually stored on top of the freezer except on propitious occasions such as this.
“I think we’re good, Boss,” Jongin yawns, kicking awake Sehun. Sehun is the only one who could’ve benefitted from this in Jongdae’s opinion, except that he fell asleep before they even got past Part I: How to Look Friendly and Not Like a Pedo. Not that Sehun doesn’t have a nice smile, he just forgets to use it sometimes.
“Ok then! I expect you all to put what you’ve learned to good use and start smiling like troopers out there!” Joonmyun gives them a double thumbs up and flips his poofy bleached hair.
“Yay.” Jongin returns the gesture before pulling Sehun out to work on the seating charts.
It’s busy from the time they open and Jongdae ends up waiting on a cute older couple who brought their awful bratty grandkids along for lunch, despite the youngsters’ dislike of everything on the menu. Jongdae understands, kind of. He wasn’t a huge fan of seafood himself in grade school, but he thinks it’s pretty obvious from the robotic lobster on the front sign what Ocean’s Bounty Seafood Haven sells, so they can’t really be blamed for not having chicken or kimbap on the menu.
Not gonna lie, he’s pretty relieved when the family gets up to leave, Joonmyun graciously wishing them a safe return as they exit, and Sehun escorts a party of one to the vacated table. Jongdae shoots the new customer a side glance as he wipes down a nearby booth: it’s a young guy, tall and fashionable enough in his fitted slacks and floral button down that he looks like he can probably handle Yixing’s fusion cuisine without flipping out that there’s no plain rice on the menu. The dude even smiles and thanks Sehun as he receives the drink list, so hopefully he won’t be a douche like that customer at table #12 who just sent back his garlic roasted beet ravioli because the pasta wasn’t “square enough.”
Jongdae hurries over to greet the new customer with a glass of water and is on the receiving end of another one of the tall guy’s blinding smiles. Up close he looks like the poster boy for a dentist. Or maybe he is a dentist, Jongdae muses, noting a travel toothbrush case peeking out of his work bag as he rearranges his wallet.
“Do you have any questions about the menu? I’d be happy to recommend our caramel and gochujang glazed sea bream.” Jongdae smiles his most charming smile as Customer #11 looks up from the list.
“Oh! Thank you, that does sound delicious, but actually I was wondering if you could tell me about the pa--”
And that’s when the toddler at table #13 sends a pitcher of iced tea cascading to the floor, drenching Jongdae’s back from the collar of his checked uniform shirt down to the heels of his shiny shoes.
Jongdae spends the next few minutes apologizing profusely to everyone in the vicinity as he scrambles to rake the spilled ice cubes back into the empty pitcher until Sehun wanders over with a towel to take over mopping up the tiles. Jongdae turns back to table #11 with a perfect smile, wiping his sticky, freezing fingers on his stickier, soaking pants.
“I’m so sorry, sir! Did you have a question about the menu?”
“Don’t worry about it!” the guy says with a smile too gleaming to be real. “I’ll just have the pasta.”
“Our signature linguine alle vongole?” Jongdae confirms before ticking off the box on the order slip. The guys nods and smiles again. “Excellent choice! It should be right out!” Jongdae promises before dashing back to the kitchen.
One of their most popular entrees, the linguine order is out a few minutes later and Jongdae delivers it with a smile before making the rounds of his other tables. He returns to table #11 to check if the guy needs a drink refill but notices instantly that an empty glass is the least of the customer’s worries--the guy’s face face is flushed a deep red and is swelling up like a party balloon as Jongdae looks on in horror.
The customer grabs at his throat and shoves a thick plastic tube at Jongdae with his free hand. Jongdae takes the thing and just stares at it for a moment before everything clicks.
“Oh my god! Are you having a heart attack?!” he screams loud enough for the cars driving past on the road outside to hear. “Sehun! Call 119!” Jongdae doesn’t know what to do next but he manages to stop flailing long enough to attempt the Heimlich maneuver.
“No...shellfish...allergy!” the choking customer strangles out, shoving Jongdae’s arms away from his chest. He wraps a large hand around Jongdae’s (he has a surprisingly strong and steady grip despite the fact he is basically dying right now) and plunges the needle tube thing into his thigh with a hoarse cry of raw pain, just as the EMTs rush in with a stretcher. Jongdae may or may not promptly pass out in relief.
Chanyeol (the customer from table #11 is named Park Chanyeol) is feeling a little better two hours after the incident, even able to talk a bit now. Jongdae’s shift ended an hour ago so technically he could probably leave now, but he would feel awful leaving Chanyeol to wait for his prescription in the hospital lobby all alone.
“Well, I guess it’s time to stock up on epi pens again!” Chanyeol says with a dark laugh that doesn’t match his blinding smile. “Thank you for assisting me to stab myself earlier.”
“Um, you’re welcome?” Jongdae giggles nervously, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “I’m really, really sorry for almost killing you!” Chanyeol laughs again, but this time it’s a much lighter, freer sound. Jongdae decides he kind of likes it.
“Seriously though, you can stop apologizing already! It’s my bad, I should have checked before ordering.”
“Yeah, did you somehow miss the big fishnet on the sign out front? Or why’d you come into a seafood restaurant anyway?” Chanyeol shrugs and cracks his knuckles.
“My mom gave me a gift card. I thought I should use it.” Jongdae nods and recrosses his ankles. The hospital lobby is kind of cold. “I knew it was a seafood place but I thought for sure pasta would be safe.”
“For future reference, alle vongole means ‘with seafood.’”
“Oh, thanks,” Chanyeol mumbles, fiddling with his belt buckle. “Yeah, I don’t know even a word of Italian, so…”
“Then I take it you didn’t bother to read the description blurb on the menu, either?” Jongdae asks with a wry smile.
“Oh! No…” Chanyeol ducks his head, blushing a little, or maybe it’s just residual redness from the allergic reaction. Jongdae bites his lip.
“Hey...could I maybe make it up to you? Buy you dinner at a non-seafood place, perhaps?” Chanyeol jerks, his head snapping up.
“Oh no! That’s ok! I mean you already came all the way here and stayed at the hospital with me, even though you really didn’t have to!”
“That was nothing!” Jongdae says quickly, hoping he’s not making the customer uncomfortable. “I mean, Joonmyun hyung, he’s our manager, might have fired me if I didn’t come. We’re doing this perfect customer service campaign thing right now, “go the extra mile, always keep a smile!”, and hyung sometimes takes these things a little too...enthusiastically,” Jongdae adds with a little chuckle, trying to awkwardly laugh this whole situation off like a joke.
“Oh...oh, of course.” Chanyeol just looks more disappointed though, and Jongdae can feel the coil of his intestines sinking right along with the corners of Chanyeol’s eye smile as his lips tighten.
“But no! I want to, really! Make it up to you, I mean. So,” Jongdae licks his lips. “Come have dinner with me this weekend?”
“Ok,” Chanyeol agrees shyly, folding his hands into a neat ball. Jongdae sighs with an unbelievably relieved grin.
It’s not til next Thursday that Chanyeol has a free evening. He pulls up outside the restaurant two minutes after Jongdae’s shift ends, so Jongdae has to scramble to change. He bangs his knee on the corner of his locker door, tosses his dirty apron in the communal laundry bin, and waves to Joonmyun on the way out.
For once Jongdae’s grateful for the overcrowded dining floor during peak hour, because it means Sehun and Jongin have no time to gawk at him as Chanyeol-to Jongdae’s amused dismay-gets out of his car in front of the restaurant to greet him with an enthusiastic handshake and even opens the passenger door for him like this is some awkward high school date.
Jongdae yelps as he settles into the passenger’s seat when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Zitao just sent him a winky face text, which means everyone in the kitchen knows about Chanyeol’s arrival even if they didn’t see it. Jongdae doesn’t deign a reply, just shuts his phone off and busies himself with buckling his seatbelt. Chanyeol is still grinning when Jongdae dares to look up.
“Hey!” he says, “you look nice.” Jongdae looks down at his jeans with the wine stain on the hems and his favorite knit sweater that could do with a lint brushing. He kind of ran out of time to do laundry this weekend. Oops.
Chanyeol though-Chanyeol looks like a million bucks in his pressed suit and a dark plum tie shot with expensive looking gold threads.
“Your face looks nice,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol loses control of the steering wheel momentarily in a fit of laughter. “Um, I mean, it looks less painful and swollen!” Jongdae clarifies with a mortified scowl creasing his forehead.
“Ok,” Chanyeol says and smiles again, turning to face Jongdae as they come to a stoplight.
“So…uh…where are we going?” Jongdae asks, hoping it’s nowhere that requires a tie because he totally left his itchy bow tie back in his locker.
“I don’t know,” Chanyeol says, his attention shifting back to the road as the light changes and the column of compact cars in front of them inches forward into the intersection. “I mean, I thought you might have a place in mind?”
“Oh.” Jongdae curls his fingers into his seatbelt as Chanyeol makes a sharp right onto the main road. He is the one who invited Chanyeol out for a meal. “How do you feel about Thai food? I know a good place close to here.”
“I don’t know, I haven’t really tried Thai before. Is it, like, curry? Spicy?”
“Curry, yeah, but they have other stuff too. Noodles, stir fry. We don’t have to go there though, if you don’t want to!” Jongdae twists in his seat to meet Chanyeol’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Well, I’m always up for anything new! As long as it doesn’t involve shrimp,” Chanyeol adds with a wink.
“This place is 100% vegetarian, so you don’t even have to worry about the sauces.”
“Cool beans!” Chanyeol says with a thumbs up. Jongdae rolls his eyes but indulges him with a loud laugh anyway.
“Take a left at the next four way stop.”
The Thai place isn’t very crowded since it isn’t the weekend yet, and they manage to snag the last private room in the back. They take seats on opposite sides of a low table on the straw mats covering the floor. An overgrown bamboo plant and some smelly orchids nearly cover the back wall. Jongdae has no idea if the decor is anything authentic, but Chanyeol seems duly impressed by the exotic ambience.
The restaurant has none of the Western style kitsch characteristic of the Seafood Haven, but it has its own exotic brand of charm, as well as familiarity. Joonmyun drags their work parties here as often as Baekhyun will tolerate vegetarian food and this little room in the back has seen the start of many an intense hangover. Not that Jongdae plans to order soju tonight on his first outing with a near stranger, though.
“So, what do you recommend?” Chanyeol asks, loosening his tie and tugging open the first two buttons of his white shirt. He lost the jacket and tweed vest before they locked up the car, and Jongdae no longer feels especially conspicuous despite their mismatched clothes, not when they’re both sprawled against the wall of their cozy tropical cubicle.
“I personally love green curry, the spicy kind with extra coconut milk,” Jongdae pauses to grin as Chanyeol’s face crumples as the mention of coconut, “but if you’re not a fan of spice, there are a bunch of noodle dishes too.” Chanyeol nods, rolling up his sleeves with clumsy fingers as Jongdae explains the menu. He finally settles on Pad Thai, something mild with vegetables, and Jongdae hits the call button.
“One pad thai and one green curry. Oh, and a beer, and,” he turns to Chanyeol with a raised brow.
“Could I have cider, please?” Chanyeol flashes a bright grin at the waitress and she almost drops her notepad.
“Be right back, Sir!” She ducks out and Chanyeol starts fanning himself with the menu.
“Is it too warm in here?” Jongdae is huddled into the corner of the table to keep out of the airflow of the AC vent, but Chanyeol’s face is flushed like he’s about to break a sweat. “Are you feeling ok…?”
“Oh! I’m just fine! It’s my allergy meds, they give me hot flashes sometimes!” Jongdae just nods, not sure what to say.
Chanyeol pulls out his phone and starts showing Jongdae random pics of tree branches and sidewalk cracks and cute furry pets he met on aforementioned cracked sidewalks that week, and by the time their drinks arrive Jongdae’s no longer worrying about laughing too loudly or how his hair gel’s holding up. He’s not the greatest conversationalist, especially when it comes to new people, but Chanyeol is amazingly easy to talk to and just laughs in unabashed amusement whenever Jongdae forgets this is supposed to be an apology dinner and lets some of his awkward snark leak out between sips of beer.
When the waitress comes in with their food (plus an extra tray of spring rolls on the house, no doubt thanks to Chanyeol’s award-winning smile) Jongdae watches Chanyeol anxiously as he takes his first bite. Chanyeol squints a little as he chews as if considering, and Jongdae crushes a paper napkin between his fingers in anticipation. He lets out a huff of relief when Chanyeol swallows, whimpers in pleasure, and immediately shovels another heaping spoonful of noodles into his mouth. So far so good, Jongdae congratulates himself. Just another hour or so of enjoying Customer #11’s enthusiastic company, and then Jongdae can say goodnight secure in the knowledge that he hasn’t ruined anything (this time around).
Jongdae stirs his curry a little to let it cool, enjoying the fragrant steam misting across his face. Spicy food tastes the best when it’s cold out, and the muggy summer heat is just starting to fade into the crisp dry air of autumn. Chanyeol makes a stupid joke about the plot of the soap opera Jongdae’s secretly been watching on Thursdays just as Jongdae wraps his lips around his spoon. Jongdae loses it, half in shock that Chanyeol would openly admit he’s following the show, and half because everything that comes out of Chanyeol’s mouth is either cute or hilarious, most of the time both.
Jongdae’s laughing fit turns into a coughing fit when a bit of pepper adheres itself to the back of his throat and he chugs half of Chanyeol’s cider in desperation before clawing at the napkin dispenser. Shit. So much for a smooth ending to tonight’s meetup, he mentally berates himself as he tries to regain enough compose to apologize for spitting half-chewed chicken and green beans across the table. He can feel his skin stinging with humiliation but he’s pretty sure burying his face in the sticky wad of napkins clutched in his fist won’t obscure his blush from Chanyeol, so Jongdae takes a deep breath and looks up.
Chanyeol’s face doesn’t turn red, it blanches like an almond. It’s not an almond held aloft on his spoon that he’s staring at, though.
“Hey…is this a peanut?” Chanyeol asks, then chuckles nervously as he shreds a paper napkin with his free hand. Jongdae gulps for air.
“Is that a trick question?” Jongdae asks, refusing to give in to his worst fears just yet, since Chanyeol hasn’t started choked or turning into a giant cranberry like last time. Chanyeol laughs again and meets Jongdae’s eyes with sheepish chagrin.
“I kind of forgot, but I’m sort of allergic to peanuts.”
“Peanuts?!” Jongdae wheezes, his lungs still burning from hacking up the curry. “We’re going back to the hospital--now! Where’s my phone? Your phone! 119! AghHH!”
“It’s ok! It’s ok!” Chanyeol reaches across the table to grab Jongdae by the wrists and lowers him back into his seat. “The oyster allergy is really much worse, I’ll be fine! Really! I’ll just be getting terrible intestinal pains in about...fifteen minutes,” he says, releasing Jongdae to check his watch.
“How far do you live from here?” Jongdae asks with a frown, digging his fingernails into his jean-clad thighs in an attempt to calm the spasms of worry streaking through his chest. Run ins with Customer #11, though thoroughly enjoyable, are proving to be a little hard on Jongdae’s blood pressure.
“Over in Hapjeong.”
“Shit!” Jongdae bites his lip and Chanyeol nods glumly. That’s at least forty minutes from here, more if the traffic’s bad, and traffic’s always bad during rush hour. Jongdae scrubs his hands through his hair.
“Can you drive?” Chanyeol asks with an apologetic smile, handing Jongdae his keys.
Chanyeol swallows some emergency benadryl with the last of his cider and they get him out to his car before the first curls of pain hit, but traffic’s just as bad as Jongdae worried.
“I’m--really sorry, dude!” Chanyeol whimpers as they both stare despondently out the window at the slow creep of traffic lining up to cross the river. The radio’s turned up but all he can focus on is Chanyeol’s soft moans as he writhes in pain to the beat of the foreign rap music bleeding through the speakers. “You didn’t--even get to--eat anything!”
“Don’t be!” Jongdae reassures him with a sympathetic pout in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry I almost killed you again!”
“Don’t worry,” Chanyeol waves at him with a weak smile. “I’ll li--! Live.” He tugs on his seat belt and wipes at the sheen of sweat coating his collarbones. Jongdae wishes he could hand him a hankie, but they’re in Chanyeol’s car and he doesn’t even know where to find a paper napkin.
“I should’ve asked about the ingredients but--!” Chanyeol gasps, then relaxes against the seat with a sigh. The pain’s been coming in waves and Jongdae can only grit his teeth through the worst of it and cross his fingers that each bout will be the last. “But I forgot because, well, to be honest, I was having too much fun talking with you.”
Jongdae glances over in surprise at this admission but Chanyeol’s slumped against the passenger’s seat, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he focuses on breathing through the lull. Jongdae still doesn’t know what to say.
“While we’re at it, are you sure you don’t have any other confessions to make? Allergies to strawberries? Gluten intolerance?” Chanyeol gives a weak laugh that slides into a pained moan. The pitiful sound sends goosebumps all up and down Jongdae’s arms, and not the good kind.
“Of course I’m not gluten intolerant! I ordered linguine.”
“Oh, right.” Jongdae turns down the AC and tries to keep Chanyeol occupied with lame jokes the rest of the way home.
Chanyeol claims he’s feeling somewhat better when Jongdae parks outside his apartment nearly an hour later, but he doubles over with a low groan as he attempts to crawl out of the car. Jongdae insists on accompanying him inside, though Chanyeol refuses to lean on him for support.
When the elevator arrives Chanyeol punches the button for the 8th floor with a trembling finger and promptly collapses against the railing along the wall. Between the 5th and 6th floors their fingers accidentally brush and Jongdae almost jumps back in surprise, but then Chanyeol’s fingers are curling into his and squeezing, like if he lets go he might topple straight over onto the tile floor of the lift. There’s no way Jongdae’s going to let a precious customer collapse in an elevator on his watch, so of course he hangs on tight to Chanyeol’s strong grip.
Fortunately, Chanyeol’s unit is only two doors down from the elevator so they don’t have far to go. Chanyeol collapses on his sofa with a loud groan as Jongdae fumbles for the light switch.
“Um, are you gonna be ok?” Jongdae asks, standing awkwardly in the middle of Chanyeol’s living room in his sweaty sock feet. What exactly is proper etiquette for dropping off someone in this situation? Jongdae really has no idea. “Are you sure we don’t...hospital?”
“No, no, I’m fine, just--” Chanyeol cuts off with a choked cry and Jongdae winces.
“What do you need!” Jongdae tears across the narrow room in search of a blanket, pillow, plushie, anything to wipe the painful twist off Chanyeol’s face. “Water? Aspirin? Heating pad? Soju?”
“Just--! Jongdae, just chill, ok? I’ll be--! fine.” Chanyeol looks nothing but, cold sweat soaking his dress shirt and the gentle waves of his dark hair. Jongdae stops short and shuffles uncomfortably in the middle of the room, once again unsure what to do. There is something stuck to his sock, something hot pink and sticky. It’s a post it note with a list scribbled in purple ink:
sugar
egss~
choco chips!!! ^^
butter (?)
“Um, Chanyeol?” Jongdae starts hesitantly. He hates to interrupt him in his moment of pain. Chanyeol grunts in acknowledgement, his knees pulled into his chest as he slowly rocks back and forth on his side in a sad parody of the happy baby pose. “Is this...important? Or should I…?” Jongdae waves the crumpled sticky note and gestures at the wastepaper basket next to an unplugged lava lamp.
“Huh?” Chanyeol blinks twice before his glazed eyes focus on what Jongdae’s holding. “Oh shit!” He surges off the sofa, fingers outstretched for the paper, but falls back before he even gets halfway, clutching at his gut. Jongdae rushes forward to hand over the scrap of paper.
“Here! I didn’t know--I--!”
“Thanks man! Um,” Chanyeol rasps, wiping a streak of sweat from his temple. “My sister--birthday--cookies--tomorrow!” He gasps out before straightening again, his face relaxing a bit. “Do you think you...take me grocery shopping? Do you have time? I--! Sorry!” he whimpers, flopping onto his belly and writhing his hips forward like a crawling remote control toy soldier as he tries to get up.
“No,” Jongdae says, pushing Chanyeol back down on the sofa.
“Yeah, you must--busy, I’m--” Chanyeol knocks his forehead into the sagging armrest. “Sorry! I--”
“No, stupid,” Jongdae says in a softer voice. “I mean, ‘no’, you’re not going anywhere. I’ll go shopping for you though, if you don’t mind my borrowing your car.” Jongdae kicks at the leg of the sofa.
“Really?” Chanyeol’s face brightens as he turns his head to face Jongdae, left cheek pillowed on his wrist. “Thanks, dude! Thanks, I--!”
“Just stay put and rest, I’ll be right back! Is this all you need?” Jongdae waves the wrinkled sticky and Chanyeol nods again, obviously relieved. “Ok, then. See you in twenty.”
Jongdae leaves the door unlocked so Chanyeol doesn’t have to get up to let him back in, but only after multiple reassurances that yes, Chanyeol is okay besides the pain and no, he’s not going to pass out while Jongdae’s gone and no, Jongdae does not need to call his sister, the next door neighbor, or the security guard to come hold his hand.
The market isn’t too far away, just down the road from Chanyeol’s complex, but shopping takes even longer when you have to check every label for allergen information. The chocolate chips are the worst. The first three brands Jongdae checks seem safe at first, only to have processed in a facility that also processes tree nuts--may contain traces stamped at the bottom. Finally, though, he finds a package of trade free chocolate chunks that is warning-free and adds it to his basket with a little hum of triumph.
The eggs, though...none of the boxes have relevant info on the labels, so Jongdae goes with the organic range-free kind just to be on the safe side, biting his lip at the price tag before heading to the check out. It’s worth the extra cost to ensure Chanyeol’s okay. Jongdae’s not taking anymore chances on Customer #11.
He can’t have been gone longer than forty minutes total, but Chanyeol doesn’t answer when Jongdae knocks on his door. Jongdae almost drops the bag of eggs in his panic to check that Chanyeol is still breathing, but before he’s halfway across the floor to the cracking leather sofa Chanyeol gives a shuddering sigh, shifting his gangly legs where they’re crowded at the end by the armrest.
Jongdae heaves a breath of tingling relief before lowering the bags on the kitchen table as soundlessly as possible. He pulls a ratty afghan off the back of the sofa to drape over Chanyeol’s sleeping form. Good. He’s glad Chanyeol managed to fall asleep, and maybe the pain will have subsided by the time he wakes up. He sure took enough benadryl to knock him out until morning.
Jongdae lingers in the doorway for one last glimpse of Chanyeol’s sleeping face. He’s a little apprehensive about leaving the invalid all alone in the dark apartment, but it’s getting late and Chanyeol seems much better now, his chest steadily rising and dipping in soft little sighs under the thick folds of the crochet blanket. The planes of his face, earlier crumpled in pain, now gleam smooth and serene in the dim flickers of streetlight seeping through the blinds. Jongdae turns away with a gulp and carefully locks the door behind him.
Friday is Jongdae’s day off this week, and he really should have set his alarm and gotten up for a run at the gym before heading to the library, but it’s already after 11:00 when he wakes up to a string of texts from Chanyeol:
OMG sooorrry abt last night!! >.<
I mean 4 gtg sick and thn falling aslep on you!!
I mean not ON u...u kno wht i mean! *^_^*
but last night was fun and THANKT U srsly for the shpg
I made noona bday cookiesss check it out
Jongdae groans and rubs his fist through his tornado of messy hair as he blinks at the photo of some very crispy, very blackened lumps on a baking sheet.
i hope those r extra choclty n not burnt dude, he texts back, not bothering to correct his spelling; that’s what Chanyeol gets for disturbing his precious sleep.
uh...haha maybe? >.> is all Chanyeol replies. Jongdae scrolls through his other notifications, tagging the email from Joonmyun about next week’s shift schedule, and drags his ass to the shower.
He’s actually really happy Chanyeol bothered to send him a pic of the results, even if only because he now gets to laugh at him about it for the next five years.
“Wait...did you you just say ‘Chanyeol’ and ‘the next five years’ in the same sentence?” Baekhyun yells across the changing room at work when Jongdae accidentally lets that detail slip a week later. “Omg, it is serious! Zitao wasn’t kiddin’!” Baekhyun clasps his hands to his chest under his slightly crushed bowtie.
“Shut up.” Jongdae hurls his sweaty uniform shirt at Baekhyun’s head and smirks when it hits home. He exits the locker room leaving Baekhyun to claw his way out of Jongdae’s rumpled laundry, an unfamiliar curling sort of satisfaction rising in his chest. He considers dialing Chanyeol on the way to the bus stop but then decides to wait a bit, just until he’s out of Zitao’s creepily omnispective sight (it’s almost like the kid can see through walls, or something). That doesn’t stop him from answering the incoming call he gets from Chanyeol before he even makes it out the building, though.
“Hey, Chanyeol?”
“Hey! So! What I didn’t tell you is--”
“Oh god, don’t tell me you’re allergic to water now,” Jongdae groans, mostly in sarcasm, as he nods to Joonmyun on his way to the back door. He pinches Jongin‘s nose and gives Zitao the finger and his sweetest smile as he passes them in the hall.
“Hey, quit interrupting, jerk!” Chanyeol punches something with his fist and Jongdae muffles a snicker. It hasn’t taken long for them to devolve from polite acquaintances to...acquaintances who enjoy trading insults via text, and most recently, via bitchy phone calls.
It’s not like they talk every night after Jongdae gets off work, but often enough that Zitao has not-so-innocently hinted that they must be more than acquaintances. Ok, so maybe they have talked five out of seven nights this week, but Jongdae continues to deny everyone’s innuendo laden insinuations about Customer #11.
The fact is they are still just acquaintances, albeit ones with a similar passion for bitching and snark. Jongdae would never have plugged Chanyeol for the smug ‘n sassy type the day they ended up in the ER together, but then again Jongdae’s female customers have been known to coo at him and call him “sweetheart,” so he guesses it’s really not fair to judge a salad dressing by it’s label before you’ve read the allergen warnings.
“...anyway, it’s only open on weekends, and my sister’s busy all Saturday, so how about it?”
“Huh?” Jongdae halts in front of his bus stop and realizes with a hot blush limning the angles of his cheekbones that he’s spacing out again. Chanyeol sighs but his accompanying giggle sounds amused, not annoyed.
“I said, what I didn’t tell you is that my weekend hobby is visiting cafes and brunch places. I sort of...have a blog?”
“Wait, really?” Jongdae scrunches his nose, trying to picture Chanyeol in an immaculate suit and sleek silk tie at a kitschy cafe, hunched over a tiny wrought iron table across from Yura, the older sister he’s heard so much about but has yet to meet. He shakes his head, raking his fingers through his limp hair in front of his hazy reflection in the plastic wall of the shelter before turning to face the curb. “That’s cool. Can I have the link to your blog?”
“What?” Chanyeol asks with a sharp intake of air. “I mean, it’s not really a blog! Mostly just posts of crappy pics I take on my cellphone!”
“Ok,” Jongdae says, sticking out his tongue at a yappy little dog as it trots by with its owner. “But can I still have the link? I love food blogs.” He doesn’t actually follow any regularly, but he might as well start since now he works in a restaurant, after all. The info might come in handy to impress Joonmyun with someday, and besides, Jongdae’s already fluent in the art of talking Chanyeol into things he’d rather not do.
“Ok, um...I’ll...text you.” Chanyeol clears his throat. “Does that mean you’re coming tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Jongdae says, fumbling for his T-money card in the side pocket of his leather sling bag. “What time?”
“’ll pick you up at 11:00?”
“So you like small furry things, right?” Chanyeol asks with hopeful anxiety as soon as Jongdae opens the car door on Saturday morning. Jongdae scrambles to secure his seatbelt as Chanyeol pulls forwards and makes a sharp right, narrowly avoiding a halmoni pushing a baby stroller full of cabbages who decided to disregard the street signals at the crosswalk. Jongdae turns away from the window since he doesn’t want to have a heart attack watching Chanyeol’s reckless driving. He’d much rather watch Chanyeol anyway, who is just as strikingly handsome in his long sleeved striped T and white linen shorts as he is in a three-piece tailored suit.
“Yeah, sure,” Jongdae shrugs his shoulders in his loose cardigan. “Why wouldn’t I?” He pulls at a loose thread on the hem of shirt and hopes he looks as well put together as he felt when he left the house this morning.
“Really?” Chanyeol sounds a little surprised and incredibly excited now, bouncing a little on his Hello Kitty seat cushion.
“I mean, are we talking plushies or moldy vegetables here?” Jongdae clarifies, remembering with brutal clarity the smell of the rotting carrots Yixing “lost” in the storage room last month. By the time Zitao found them they weren’t orange anymore, they were rainbow carrots. Jongdae’s still relieved Joonmyun managed to convince Yixing to just throw them out and not serve them as some experimental new side dish a la chartreuse.
“Um, neither?” Chanyeol taps his thumbs against the steering wheel as he waits impatiently at the next light. “But closer to the plushie idea.”
“How close?” Jongdae questions, starting to feel a tingle of suspicion behind his knees.
“Don’t worry! Just wait and see, we’re almost there!” Chanyeol bounces again and turns up the 2NE1 mix queued on the stereo and Jongdae sits back to enjoy the view (hint: it’s not the congested city streetscape he’s admiring, more like the exquisite jut of Chanyeol’s collarbones from the boat neckline of his shirt).
The traffic is not bad for a weekend morning in Seoul, and Chanyeol parks on a shady side street a few blocks from their destination.
“Tada~!” Chanyeol spreads his arms and wiggles his fingers before whipping out his phone to start snapping different angles of the cafe’s sign and front window. “Oh man, whew!” Chanyeol gasps, his long fingers splayed across his sternum and still wiggling as he tries not to hyperventilate. “I’ve been waiting forever for this place to open since I first heard about it, and here we are! Finally! You ready?” He nudges Jongdae’s shoulder with an elbow, his phone shutter still clicking away.
“Um,” Jongdae says, transfixed by a pair of beady black eyes boring into him with malicious intent through the front window.
“Come on!” Chanyeol practically shoves him the through the front door and makes a beeline for the nearest empty table. Well, it’s not exactly empty. Chanyeol scoops something small and furry off the tabletop and cuddles it to his chest, cooing at it in a high pitched register Jongdae is surprised his vocal chords are capable of reaching. “Aigugu! So flippin’ adorable! Isn’t this place awesome, Jongdae?”
“A ferret cafe?” Jongdae coughs out, rather at a loss for words. “Why not somewhere more normal, like--”
“A cat cafe?” Chanyeol asks with a sigh, sinking into a creaky wicker chair. Cat cafes aren’t exactly at the top of Jongdae’s normal list, but he nods anyway. He sort of understands the appeal of visiting places like this if it’s a gimmick for the blog, novelty content or whatever, but all of Chanyeol’s other reviews were about pretty mundane locations, the posts made unique and endearing by Chanyeol’s enthusiastic writing style. Also, Chanyeol seems genuinely excited to be here. With ferrets. What the hell.
“Because,” Chanyeol pouts, wriggling in his seat, “I’m allergic to cats and some dogs, but ferrets are okay. I know because my cousin used to have one.”
“I see,” Jongdae nods.
“Are you gonna sit down?” Chanyeol whacks the back of the seat opposite his with the laminated foldout menu. “Or are you afraid of small furry things after all?”
“Afraid!” Jongdae snorts, still rooted to the spot. “I’m tough. I’m not afraid of rodents!”
“Ok.” Chanyeol flips open the menu and rubs his captive furry thing all over his face. “And by the way, ferrets aren’t rodents. They are mustelids of the Family Mustelidae.” He holds up the ferret to his eye level and makes kissy noises at it. “Aren’t you! Aren’t you a cute little mustelid!” Chanyeol squeaks at the small furry thing.
“Don’t scare the thing, geez,” Jongdae huffs, and drops into the chair across from Chanyeol (after carefully checking the seat for surprises, of course).
“Are you jealous, Jongie?” Chanyeol asks in a dark voice, staring down at him through his dark framed glasses with a look that makes Jongdae want to shiver despite the cranked up heat blowing from the ceiling. “Do you think widdle Jongie’s jealous?” he repeats in the squeaky voice to the ferret, and Jongdae sighs instead. He would be literally headdesking right now if he wasn’t acutely aware of the suspicious mustelid bodily fluids probably coating every surface in sight with an invisible yet horrifically repugnant layer. This is going to be a long breakfast.
“So! What do you want? Coffee? You hungry?” Chanyeol cocks his head, his shoulders jerking as his new mustelid buddy snuffles at his throat.
“Um, not really,” Jongdae murmurs. “Coffee is good, I guess.” At least coffee will emerge from the kitchen well boiled and therefore (hopefully) parasite free.
“Cool. I think...I’ll have sorbet!” Chanyel licks his lips like he’s already anticipating his morning dessert as he selects their order from the digital menu on the tablet mounted on the wall beside them. Jongdae swallows as Chanyeol moistens his lips with another swipe of his tongue and hits enter.
“Sorbet? For breakfast?” That’s almost cute, in the same awkward and unsophisticated yet comfortable way everything about Chanyeol is cute. Except his clothes. Chanyeol dresses pretty sharp, Jongdae has to admit.
“Sure! It’s supposed to be the best thing on the menu. Besides, it’s almost noon anyway.” Jongdae turns his head to follow Chanyeol’s gesture towards the Alice In Wonderland inspired cuckoo clock on the wall above the counter.
“Oh look, Peaches!” Chanyeol coos. “We have a friend!”
Jongdae almost swallows his tonsils in shock as a second small and furry thing leaps straight into his lap.
“Uh,” Jongdae croaks, eye to eye with the white furred ferret that was checking him out from the window earlier.
“Say hello to your new friend, Jongdae!” Chanyeol continues in the obnoxious voice. The ferret blinks once and hops onto the table and finally Jongdae can breathe again, sweet oxygen whooshing into his lungs like the taste of freedom. “Aw, why aren’t you saying hello? I thought you were ok.” Chanyeol looks up from nuzzling his “friend” to offer Jongdae a worried frown. “If you’re uncomfortable here, we can always--”
“It’s ok!” Jongdae hastens to smile. “Really!” He stretches out a tentative index finger towards the white ferret. “Come here...girl!” He brushes the top of the tiny head as lightly as he can. The ferret pulls back its lips into a sneer. “See, I touched it!”
“Uh huh.” Chanyeol looks up to give an unnerving impression of Joonmyun’s thoughtfully concerned face he always puts on for their monthly staff performance eval interviews. “His name’s Coffee Whiskers. He’d appreciate it if you used his name.”
“Ok, Dr. Doolittle.” Jongdae rolls his eyes to hold back a shudder. “But if you’re going to start naming them, maybe this one should be Snowball instead of Coffee Whiskers.” Seriously, there’s not a speck of dark coloring on the little monster. Coffee Whiskers spreads his jaws in a gaping snap of his teeth, as if he understood Jongdae’s mental insult. Ok, that’s just creepy. Maybe Abominable Snow Rodent would be even more appropriate.
“No, really, that’s his name! I memorized all of their profiles,” Chanyeol insists, sliding a napkin across to Jongdae.
“Profiles?”
“The cafe website has a special fan cafe for the members.”
“‘Members’?” Chanyeol smiles and points and Peaches and Coffee Whiskers in response. “I see.”
It doesn’t take long for their order to come out, and Jongdae realizes why as soon as he takes his first sip of cappuccino. His coffee’s lukewarm, barely deserving of any association with the word ‘warm’, actually. Chanyeol stops him from sending it back though; apparently the cafe serves all of their hot drinks at room temperature “for the safety of our mustelid friends.”
Jongdae sips his cold coffee and watches Chanyeol enjoy his raspberry ice. He’s almost like a little kid, licking melty drips from his wrist and thumb with the tip of his pink tongue, and letting Peaches lap up the globs that fall on the table. Coffee Whiskers doesn’t seem interested in the sorbet, and Jongdae absently wonders why as his attention wanders to the window for a moment. He turns back to see Coffee Whiskers stretch his neck, yawn slowly, and plunge his whole snout into Jongdae’s coffee cup. Gross.
Chanyeol just about dies laughing at Jongdae’s disgusted face, and he looks even cuter with his face scrunched up and pink from laughing. Except Chanyeol’s blush doesn’t fade even after he goes back to sharing his breakfast with Peaches, it keeps getting redder and almost puffy looking.
“Um, Chanyeol?”
“Huh?” Chanyeol answers with his mouth full of frozen juice, the raspberry red staining the corners of his mouth.
“Are you okay? Your face is…”
“It’s kind of itchy,” Chanyeol mumbles, reaching up to rub at his eyes. The backs of his hands are covered in red blotches.
“Oh god oh god oh god!” Jongdae shrieks, his vocal pitch matching Chanyeol’s ferret talk voice. “Epi-pen! Where?!”
“I forgot to refill my prescription?” Chanyeol says with a wincing smile. “Eheh! But it’s ok, really!”
“Bathroom!” Jongdae commands, already out of his chair and pulling Chanyeol up by the shirt sleeve. “Now!”
Cold water helps with the swelling and Chanyeol looks a little better by the time Jongdae finishes scrubbing his face, arms, and neck with the coconut scented antibacterial soap, but his shirt is soaked and still full of ferret hair.
Jongdae sighs in fatigue as he hands Chanyeol a wad of paper towels. He really needs to make a list of Things Customer #11 Is Allergic To, for the welfare of the general public as well as his personal sanity. Chanyeol shoves the dampened towels in the trash bin and they quickly pay their bill at the counter and step out into the fresh, clean, ferret-free air.
Chanyeol sneezes loudly as the door swings shut behind them. “You’re not allergic to air, are you?” Jongdae asks as he nudges Chanyeol forward in the direction of his car.
“How is that even possible?” Chanyeol sighs, dragging his canvas shoes against the pavement to afford him one last look of longing at his furry friends.
“Take your shirt off,” Jongdae says as soon as they’re back in Chanyeol’s car.
“What?”
“Here.” Jongdae pulls his extra change of clothes from his backpack and hands it over. “They’re just my gym clothes, but…”
“Aw, I can’t do that to you!” Chanyeol protests, scratching surreptitiously at his waist through his ruined shirt. He’s probably covered in hives. “You obviously need those!”
“Chanyeol, it’s ok. Just drop me home later so I can pick up an extra shirt?”
“Oh,” Chanyeol says, his arms dropping to his sides. “Ok. Thanks!”
Jongdae faces out the passenger window while Chanyeol struggles to extricate himself from the sopping shirt in the tight quarters. He wads the discarded clothing into a tight ball and chucks it in the back seat to deal with later.
“I’m still hungry,” Chanyeol announces, tugging at the collar of his borrowed shirt. Jongdae’s T-shirt is a little tight on him, the outline of his broad shoulders clearly delineated through the clingy spandex. “Let’s find somewhere else to eat lunch!”
“It’s ok if you just want to go home,” Jongdae offers glumly. “I’m beginning to think you’re allergic to me, haha! Every time we hang out you get sick.”
“Don’t feel bad!” Chanyeol reaches over to shove at his shoulder and Jongdae looks up to see his smile, not the brilliant toothpaste ad one, but a lopsided twist of his lips. “It’s just something I have to deal with. Sucky and annoying, yes, but you’ll get used to it too, eventually! Uh, I mean, you don’t have to, of course! It’s fine if you…”
“Come here.” Jongdae gathers up his large, floppy limbs into his arms and Chanyeol drops his head onto Jongdae’s shoulder. “I don’t mind at all, I just hate seeing you suffer.” Chanyeol nods and sniffles softly into Jongdae’s sweater. “Ch-chanyeol? Are you...crying?” Jongdae scrubs up and down Chanyeol’s back with his knuckles because he has no idea what to do with tears, especially when there’s no soju involved to blame them on.
“No,” Chanyeol mutters, lifting his head to blink languidly into Jongdae’s worried eyes. “I just forgot to take my antihistamine this morning and we’ve been walking past a lot of trees.” Chanyeol turns his head and sneezes again. It’s an adorable sneeze for someone so large.
“Oh my god, you are allergic to air!” Jongdae feels a little dizzy at the thought that is actually possible.
“No, I’m not.” Chanyeol is blushing now, his pout even more irresistible when he’s sniffling simultaneously. “I’m just allergic to things in the air.”
“Same difference!” Jongdae punches him in the shoulder and Chanyeol’s face breaks out into a giant grin, this one sincere down to his bone marrow.
“Whatever. I’m still hungry! Can we go get ice cream now?”
“Ok,” Jongdae agrees, his fingers already on the door handle. “Wait!--you’re not lactose intolerant, are you?”
“Jongdae!”
They get ice cream at the shop across the street, scoops of green tea and shooting star and cookies and cream layered into a large paper cup. Chanyeol insists on getting only one cup to share between the two of them, mumbling something about sustainable logging practices in Indonesia, and they wander over to a small park nearby, settling on a bench at a safe distance from any autoimmune triggering trees.
They dig in with their little pink spoons in a competitive frenzy until the remaining ice cream is all a melted slush in the bottom of the bowl. Jongdae takes one last bite, savoring the sweetness under his tongue as he watches Chanyeol eat. Chanyeol has drips of sticky melted cream on his wrist and down the front of his borrowed shirt (good thing Jongdae’s wardrobe is more machine washable than his own) and chocolate smeared at the corners of his mouth. Jongdae thinks it’s a little disgusting, but mostly just disgustingly adorable.
They should have grabbed some napkins though, that’s for sure. Jongdae nervously wipes his hands on his jeans and decides it’s time to break the silence; the ice cream is good, sure, but it’s weird Chanyeol’s being so quiet.
“So did you--”
“So this stuff--” Chanyeol starts to say at the same time, then breaks off with a sudden blush that leaves both of them flustered.
“Go ahead,” Jongdae says with a curling grin, enjoying the way the pink flush is spreading from Chanyeol’s cheeks to engulf his whole face.
“Uh...this ice cream is really sweet!” Chanyeol ducks his head to stare into the swirling depths of their molten dessert. “But you know what’s sweeter is…” He swipes with his tongue at the oreo crumbles on his lip and misses half of them.
“Uh huh?” Jongdae nods encouragingly, eyebrows raised. Chanyeol’s still not looking at him directly though, his gaze lost somewhere between the cracks in the pavement under their feet.
“Um, you are?” Chanyeol whispers, and Jongdae freezes, squinting in concentration to make sure he heard right. Then Chanyeol lunges towards him, arms braced on either side of Jongdae’s hips on the bench seat. He blinks, his eyelashes doing this hummingbird thing that should look stupid but makes Jongdae’s heart vibrate in tandem at the thought of their exquisite brush along his jawline.
“Did you hear me?” Chanyeol’s still whispering and Jongdae’s vocal chords aren’t functioning right now, so he just nods emphatically before leaning up to close the distance. Chanyeol gasps at the first press of their lips and Jongdae smirks before deepening the kiss, his fingers releasing his sticky plastic spoon to twine in Chanyeol’s hair.
Chanyeol pulls back, his face still smeared in chocolate, and beams at Jongdae so hard he might be in danger of breaking his face.
“So,” Jongdae says quietly.
“So!” Chanyeol repeats, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. “You don’t actually hate me because, ferrets?”
“No?” Jongdae laughs and wipes his mouth on his wrist. “But I don’t think we should go back there anytime soon.”
“Aw, ok,” Chanyeol sighs, scratching lightly at his elbow.
“Are you ok?” Jongdae questions, leaning even closer to search Chanyeol’s face.
“Do I not look ok?” Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrows in a smug undulation and Jongdae punches his stupid, sticky shoulder.
“No itchy spots? Shortness of breath? Swelling? No side effects from making out with this hunk of awesome?” Jongdae points to his own nose and grins.
“Omg, just shut up, Dae!” Chanyeol moans in sudden understanding, burying his face in Jongdae’s shoulder.
“Hey, just checking! I don’t want our first official date to land us in the ER again,” Jongdae says, soothing his fingers through the silk of Chanyeol’s dark hair.
“This is a date?” Chanyeol sits up and blinks at Jongdae eagerly.
“Uh, sure? Yes? If you want?”
“Of course I want!” Chanyeol wraps strong arms around him and squeezes until Jongdae feels thoroughly sticky and surrounded and full to the brim with something like love…
“And you’d better keep coming on them with me! We’ve got a lot of waffles and ice cream to review together!” Chanyeol releases his tight grip on Jongdae’s shoulders just enough to find his lips again. Jongdae opens for him with a soft sigh in wholehearted agreement.
******
Hello, all of you wonderful readers!! And welcome to this week’s installment of Happy Heart Food Life, brought to you by your host, PCY!! (aka, P.lease C.onsume Y.ummily ;))
This weekend I’m reviewing a pet cafe (ferrets, guys!! there are ferretsss!!!) in Myeongdong, and I also have a special announcement to make:
I have a boyfriend!!! O.o !!!
Isn’t that great?!? Yeah, I know! Like, I keep pinching his cheeks to make sure he’s real. Not sure he appreciates that tho.
Anywho! I knew you all would just be dying to congratulate us (now accepting congratulatory gifts in the form of restaurant coupons and dander-free pets, please see PayPal details below), but I’m also announcing this because…(wait for it kkk ^^)...my bf’s gonna be helping out with posts from now on!! Crazy awesome, right?
The bf (let’s just call him Chen) is really hilarious, if I haven’t already mentioned, so I guarantee you’ll all enjoy getting to know his awesome self through these posts~!
Last matter of housekeeping before we get to the ~~aDorAbLE~~ ferret pictures you’re all dying to see (alright, ok, I guess I’ll have to forgive those of you who already scrolled down there first thing :P), all future blog entries will be posted as a guide to allergy-conscious, gluten free, and vegan friendly restaurants and cafes! So if you know of good places to recc us, send ‘em in! Flood the ask box and we’ll check ‘em out! ;))
Without further ado: FERRETS ^_^
Pairing: Jongdae/Chanyeol
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: Language, allergic reactions, graphic descriptions of ferrets
Disclaimer: I own nothing, written just for fun.
Summary: Jongdae really needs to make a list of Things Customer #11 Is Allergic To, for the welfare of the general public as well as his personal sanity. As for Chanyeol...Chanyeol just might be allergic to everything but the cute kittenish waiter that almost murdered him.
A/N: Originally posted over at Chenpionships 2014
It’s been a long day. First of all, Jongdae’s boss made him come into work early for a special training seminar on smiling, even though Jongdae’s smile is already perfect, thank you very much--perfectly professional yet charming, with a hint of something spicy.
Really, the last way he wanted to spend his Saturday morning was crowded between empty pickle crates in the back room, watching a video of some overly happy twink named Luhan teach them all how to smile. It was an eight part video, for goodness’ sake. On how to smile. Jongdae is pretty sure he was proficient in smiling before he learned how to walk, even in the so-called “advanced techniques”, like Part VIII: How to Fake an Eye Smile Naturally.
“Any questions?” Joonmyun asks at the end of the credits, one foot propped on an empty crate. He pauses the video on the dinosaur of a TV which is usually stored on top of the freezer except on propitious occasions such as this.
“I think we’re good, Boss,” Jongin yawns, kicking awake Sehun. Sehun is the only one who could’ve benefitted from this in Jongdae’s opinion, except that he fell asleep before they even got past Part I: How to Look Friendly and Not Like a Pedo. Not that Sehun doesn’t have a nice smile, he just forgets to use it sometimes.
“Ok then! I expect you all to put what you’ve learned to good use and start smiling like troopers out there!” Joonmyun gives them a double thumbs up and flips his poofy bleached hair.
“Yay.” Jongin returns the gesture before pulling Sehun out to work on the seating charts.
It’s busy from the time they open and Jongdae ends up waiting on a cute older couple who brought their awful bratty grandkids along for lunch, despite the youngsters’ dislike of everything on the menu. Jongdae understands, kind of. He wasn’t a huge fan of seafood himself in grade school, but he thinks it’s pretty obvious from the robotic lobster on the front sign what Ocean’s Bounty Seafood Haven sells, so they can’t really be blamed for not having chicken or kimbap on the menu.
Not gonna lie, he’s pretty relieved when the family gets up to leave, Joonmyun graciously wishing them a safe return as they exit, and Sehun escorts a party of one to the vacated table. Jongdae shoots the new customer a side glance as he wipes down a nearby booth: it’s a young guy, tall and fashionable enough in his fitted slacks and floral button down that he looks like he can probably handle Yixing’s fusion cuisine without flipping out that there’s no plain rice on the menu. The dude even smiles and thanks Sehun as he receives the drink list, so hopefully he won’t be a douche like that customer at table #12 who just sent back his garlic roasted beet ravioli because the pasta wasn’t “square enough.”
Jongdae hurries over to greet the new customer with a glass of water and is on the receiving end of another one of the tall guy’s blinding smiles. Up close he looks like the poster boy for a dentist. Or maybe he is a dentist, Jongdae muses, noting a travel toothbrush case peeking out of his work bag as he rearranges his wallet.
“Do you have any questions about the menu? I’d be happy to recommend our caramel and gochujang glazed sea bream.” Jongdae smiles his most charming smile as Customer #11 looks up from the list.
“Oh! Thank you, that does sound delicious, but actually I was wondering if you could tell me about the pa--”
And that’s when the toddler at table #13 sends a pitcher of iced tea cascading to the floor, drenching Jongdae’s back from the collar of his checked uniform shirt down to the heels of his shiny shoes.
Jongdae spends the next few minutes apologizing profusely to everyone in the vicinity as he scrambles to rake the spilled ice cubes back into the empty pitcher until Sehun wanders over with a towel to take over mopping up the tiles. Jongdae turns back to table #11 with a perfect smile, wiping his sticky, freezing fingers on his stickier, soaking pants.
“I’m so sorry, sir! Did you have a question about the menu?”
“Don’t worry about it!” the guy says with a smile too gleaming to be real. “I’ll just have the pasta.”
“Our signature linguine alle vongole?” Jongdae confirms before ticking off the box on the order slip. The guys nods and smiles again. “Excellent choice! It should be right out!” Jongdae promises before dashing back to the kitchen.
One of their most popular entrees, the linguine order is out a few minutes later and Jongdae delivers it with a smile before making the rounds of his other tables. He returns to table #11 to check if the guy needs a drink refill but notices instantly that an empty glass is the least of the customer’s worries--the guy’s face face is flushed a deep red and is swelling up like a party balloon as Jongdae looks on in horror.
The customer grabs at his throat and shoves a thick plastic tube at Jongdae with his free hand. Jongdae takes the thing and just stares at it for a moment before everything clicks.
“Oh my god! Are you having a heart attack?!” he screams loud enough for the cars driving past on the road outside to hear. “Sehun! Call 119!” Jongdae doesn’t know what to do next but he manages to stop flailing long enough to attempt the Heimlich maneuver.
“No...shellfish...allergy!” the choking customer strangles out, shoving Jongdae’s arms away from his chest. He wraps a large hand around Jongdae’s (he has a surprisingly strong and steady grip despite the fact he is basically dying right now) and plunges the needle tube thing into his thigh with a hoarse cry of raw pain, just as the EMTs rush in with a stretcher. Jongdae may or may not promptly pass out in relief.
Chanyeol (the customer from table #11 is named Park Chanyeol) is feeling a little better two hours after the incident, even able to talk a bit now. Jongdae’s shift ended an hour ago so technically he could probably leave now, but he would feel awful leaving Chanyeol to wait for his prescription in the hospital lobby all alone.
“Well, I guess it’s time to stock up on epi pens again!” Chanyeol says with a dark laugh that doesn’t match his blinding smile. “Thank you for assisting me to stab myself earlier.”
“Um, you’re welcome?” Jongdae giggles nervously, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “I’m really, really sorry for almost killing you!” Chanyeol laughs again, but this time it’s a much lighter, freer sound. Jongdae decides he kind of likes it.
“Seriously though, you can stop apologizing already! It’s my bad, I should have checked before ordering.”
“Yeah, did you somehow miss the big fishnet on the sign out front? Or why’d you come into a seafood restaurant anyway?” Chanyeol shrugs and cracks his knuckles.
“My mom gave me a gift card. I thought I should use it.” Jongdae nods and recrosses his ankles. The hospital lobby is kind of cold. “I knew it was a seafood place but I thought for sure pasta would be safe.”
“For future reference, alle vongole means ‘with seafood.’”
“Oh, thanks,” Chanyeol mumbles, fiddling with his belt buckle. “Yeah, I don’t know even a word of Italian, so…”
“Then I take it you didn’t bother to read the description blurb on the menu, either?” Jongdae asks with a wry smile.
“Oh! No…” Chanyeol ducks his head, blushing a little, or maybe it’s just residual redness from the allergic reaction. Jongdae bites his lip.
“Hey...could I maybe make it up to you? Buy you dinner at a non-seafood place, perhaps?” Chanyeol jerks, his head snapping up.
“Oh no! That’s ok! I mean you already came all the way here and stayed at the hospital with me, even though you really didn’t have to!”
“That was nothing!” Jongdae says quickly, hoping he’s not making the customer uncomfortable. “I mean, Joonmyun hyung, he’s our manager, might have fired me if I didn’t come. We’re doing this perfect customer service campaign thing right now, “go the extra mile, always keep a smile!”, and hyung sometimes takes these things a little too...enthusiastically,” Jongdae adds with a little chuckle, trying to awkwardly laugh this whole situation off like a joke.
“Oh...oh, of course.” Chanyeol just looks more disappointed though, and Jongdae can feel the coil of his intestines sinking right along with the corners of Chanyeol’s eye smile as his lips tighten.
“But no! I want to, really! Make it up to you, I mean. So,” Jongdae licks his lips. “Come have dinner with me this weekend?”
“Ok,” Chanyeol agrees shyly, folding his hands into a neat ball. Jongdae sighs with an unbelievably relieved grin.
It’s not til next Thursday that Chanyeol has a free evening. He pulls up outside the restaurant two minutes after Jongdae’s shift ends, so Jongdae has to scramble to change. He bangs his knee on the corner of his locker door, tosses his dirty apron in the communal laundry bin, and waves to Joonmyun on the way out.
For once Jongdae’s grateful for the overcrowded dining floor during peak hour, because it means Sehun and Jongin have no time to gawk at him as Chanyeol-to Jongdae’s amused dismay-gets out of his car in front of the restaurant to greet him with an enthusiastic handshake and even opens the passenger door for him like this is some awkward high school date.
Jongdae yelps as he settles into the passenger’s seat when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Zitao just sent him a winky face text, which means everyone in the kitchen knows about Chanyeol’s arrival even if they didn’t see it. Jongdae doesn’t deign a reply, just shuts his phone off and busies himself with buckling his seatbelt. Chanyeol is still grinning when Jongdae dares to look up.
“Hey!” he says, “you look nice.” Jongdae looks down at his jeans with the wine stain on the hems and his favorite knit sweater that could do with a lint brushing. He kind of ran out of time to do laundry this weekend. Oops.
Chanyeol though-Chanyeol looks like a million bucks in his pressed suit and a dark plum tie shot with expensive looking gold threads.
“Your face looks nice,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol loses control of the steering wheel momentarily in a fit of laughter. “Um, I mean, it looks less painful and swollen!” Jongdae clarifies with a mortified scowl creasing his forehead.
“Ok,” Chanyeol says and smiles again, turning to face Jongdae as they come to a stoplight.
“So…uh…where are we going?” Jongdae asks, hoping it’s nowhere that requires a tie because he totally left his itchy bow tie back in his locker.
“I don’t know,” Chanyeol says, his attention shifting back to the road as the light changes and the column of compact cars in front of them inches forward into the intersection. “I mean, I thought you might have a place in mind?”
“Oh.” Jongdae curls his fingers into his seatbelt as Chanyeol makes a sharp right onto the main road. He is the one who invited Chanyeol out for a meal. “How do you feel about Thai food? I know a good place close to here.”
“I don’t know, I haven’t really tried Thai before. Is it, like, curry? Spicy?”
“Curry, yeah, but they have other stuff too. Noodles, stir fry. We don’t have to go there though, if you don’t want to!” Jongdae twists in his seat to meet Chanyeol’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Well, I’m always up for anything new! As long as it doesn’t involve shrimp,” Chanyeol adds with a wink.
“This place is 100% vegetarian, so you don’t even have to worry about the sauces.”
“Cool beans!” Chanyeol says with a thumbs up. Jongdae rolls his eyes but indulges him with a loud laugh anyway.
“Take a left at the next four way stop.”
The Thai place isn’t very crowded since it isn’t the weekend yet, and they manage to snag the last private room in the back. They take seats on opposite sides of a low table on the straw mats covering the floor. An overgrown bamboo plant and some smelly orchids nearly cover the back wall. Jongdae has no idea if the decor is anything authentic, but Chanyeol seems duly impressed by the exotic ambience.
The restaurant has none of the Western style kitsch characteristic of the Seafood Haven, but it has its own exotic brand of charm, as well as familiarity. Joonmyun drags their work parties here as often as Baekhyun will tolerate vegetarian food and this little room in the back has seen the start of many an intense hangover. Not that Jongdae plans to order soju tonight on his first outing with a near stranger, though.
“So, what do you recommend?” Chanyeol asks, loosening his tie and tugging open the first two buttons of his white shirt. He lost the jacket and tweed vest before they locked up the car, and Jongdae no longer feels especially conspicuous despite their mismatched clothes, not when they’re both sprawled against the wall of their cozy tropical cubicle.
“I personally love green curry, the spicy kind with extra coconut milk,” Jongdae pauses to grin as Chanyeol’s face crumples as the mention of coconut, “but if you’re not a fan of spice, there are a bunch of noodle dishes too.” Chanyeol nods, rolling up his sleeves with clumsy fingers as Jongdae explains the menu. He finally settles on Pad Thai, something mild with vegetables, and Jongdae hits the call button.
“One pad thai and one green curry. Oh, and a beer, and,” he turns to Chanyeol with a raised brow.
“Could I have cider, please?” Chanyeol flashes a bright grin at the waitress and she almost drops her notepad.
“Be right back, Sir!” She ducks out and Chanyeol starts fanning himself with the menu.
“Is it too warm in here?” Jongdae is huddled into the corner of the table to keep out of the airflow of the AC vent, but Chanyeol’s face is flushed like he’s about to break a sweat. “Are you feeling ok…?”
“Oh! I’m just fine! It’s my allergy meds, they give me hot flashes sometimes!” Jongdae just nods, not sure what to say.
Chanyeol pulls out his phone and starts showing Jongdae random pics of tree branches and sidewalk cracks and cute furry pets he met on aforementioned cracked sidewalks that week, and by the time their drinks arrive Jongdae’s no longer worrying about laughing too loudly or how his hair gel’s holding up. He’s not the greatest conversationalist, especially when it comes to new people, but Chanyeol is amazingly easy to talk to and just laughs in unabashed amusement whenever Jongdae forgets this is supposed to be an apology dinner and lets some of his awkward snark leak out between sips of beer.
When the waitress comes in with their food (plus an extra tray of spring rolls on the house, no doubt thanks to Chanyeol’s award-winning smile) Jongdae watches Chanyeol anxiously as he takes his first bite. Chanyeol squints a little as he chews as if considering, and Jongdae crushes a paper napkin between his fingers in anticipation. He lets out a huff of relief when Chanyeol swallows, whimpers in pleasure, and immediately shovels another heaping spoonful of noodles into his mouth. So far so good, Jongdae congratulates himself. Just another hour or so of enjoying Customer #11’s enthusiastic company, and then Jongdae can say goodnight secure in the knowledge that he hasn’t ruined anything (this time around).
Jongdae stirs his curry a little to let it cool, enjoying the fragrant steam misting across his face. Spicy food tastes the best when it’s cold out, and the muggy summer heat is just starting to fade into the crisp dry air of autumn. Chanyeol makes a stupid joke about the plot of the soap opera Jongdae’s secretly been watching on Thursdays just as Jongdae wraps his lips around his spoon. Jongdae loses it, half in shock that Chanyeol would openly admit he’s following the show, and half because everything that comes out of Chanyeol’s mouth is either cute or hilarious, most of the time both.
Jongdae’s laughing fit turns into a coughing fit when a bit of pepper adheres itself to the back of his throat and he chugs half of Chanyeol’s cider in desperation before clawing at the napkin dispenser. Shit. So much for a smooth ending to tonight’s meetup, he mentally berates himself as he tries to regain enough compose to apologize for spitting half-chewed chicken and green beans across the table. He can feel his skin stinging with humiliation but he’s pretty sure burying his face in the sticky wad of napkins clutched in his fist won’t obscure his blush from Chanyeol, so Jongdae takes a deep breath and looks up.
Chanyeol’s face doesn’t turn red, it blanches like an almond. It’s not an almond held aloft on his spoon that he’s staring at, though.
“Hey…is this a peanut?” Chanyeol asks, then chuckles nervously as he shreds a paper napkin with his free hand. Jongdae gulps for air.
“Is that a trick question?” Jongdae asks, refusing to give in to his worst fears just yet, since Chanyeol hasn’t started choked or turning into a giant cranberry like last time. Chanyeol laughs again and meets Jongdae’s eyes with sheepish chagrin.
“I kind of forgot, but I’m sort of allergic to peanuts.”
“Peanuts?!” Jongdae wheezes, his lungs still burning from hacking up the curry. “We’re going back to the hospital--now! Where’s my phone? Your phone! 119! AghHH!”
“It’s ok! It’s ok!” Chanyeol reaches across the table to grab Jongdae by the wrists and lowers him back into his seat. “The oyster allergy is really much worse, I’ll be fine! Really! I’ll just be getting terrible intestinal pains in about...fifteen minutes,” he says, releasing Jongdae to check his watch.
“How far do you live from here?” Jongdae asks with a frown, digging his fingernails into his jean-clad thighs in an attempt to calm the spasms of worry streaking through his chest. Run ins with Customer #11, though thoroughly enjoyable, are proving to be a little hard on Jongdae’s blood pressure.
“Over in Hapjeong.”
“Shit!” Jongdae bites his lip and Chanyeol nods glumly. That’s at least forty minutes from here, more if the traffic’s bad, and traffic’s always bad during rush hour. Jongdae scrubs his hands through his hair.
“Can you drive?” Chanyeol asks with an apologetic smile, handing Jongdae his keys.
Chanyeol swallows some emergency benadryl with the last of his cider and they get him out to his car before the first curls of pain hit, but traffic’s just as bad as Jongdae worried.
“I’m--really sorry, dude!” Chanyeol whimpers as they both stare despondently out the window at the slow creep of traffic lining up to cross the river. The radio’s turned up but all he can focus on is Chanyeol’s soft moans as he writhes in pain to the beat of the foreign rap music bleeding through the speakers. “You didn’t--even get to--eat anything!”
“Don’t be!” Jongdae reassures him with a sympathetic pout in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry I almost killed you again!”
“Don’t worry,” Chanyeol waves at him with a weak smile. “I’ll li--! Live.” He tugs on his seat belt and wipes at the sheen of sweat coating his collarbones. Jongdae wishes he could hand him a hankie, but they’re in Chanyeol’s car and he doesn’t even know where to find a paper napkin.
“I should’ve asked about the ingredients but--!” Chanyeol gasps, then relaxes against the seat with a sigh. The pain’s been coming in waves and Jongdae can only grit his teeth through the worst of it and cross his fingers that each bout will be the last. “But I forgot because, well, to be honest, I was having too much fun talking with you.”
Jongdae glances over in surprise at this admission but Chanyeol’s slumped against the passenger’s seat, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he focuses on breathing through the lull. Jongdae still doesn’t know what to say.
“While we’re at it, are you sure you don’t have any other confessions to make? Allergies to strawberries? Gluten intolerance?” Chanyeol gives a weak laugh that slides into a pained moan. The pitiful sound sends goosebumps all up and down Jongdae’s arms, and not the good kind.
“Of course I’m not gluten intolerant! I ordered linguine.”
“Oh, right.” Jongdae turns down the AC and tries to keep Chanyeol occupied with lame jokes the rest of the way home.
Chanyeol claims he’s feeling somewhat better when Jongdae parks outside his apartment nearly an hour later, but he doubles over with a low groan as he attempts to crawl out of the car. Jongdae insists on accompanying him inside, though Chanyeol refuses to lean on him for support.
When the elevator arrives Chanyeol punches the button for the 8th floor with a trembling finger and promptly collapses against the railing along the wall. Between the 5th and 6th floors their fingers accidentally brush and Jongdae almost jumps back in surprise, but then Chanyeol’s fingers are curling into his and squeezing, like if he lets go he might topple straight over onto the tile floor of the lift. There’s no way Jongdae’s going to let a precious customer collapse in an elevator on his watch, so of course he hangs on tight to Chanyeol’s strong grip.
Fortunately, Chanyeol’s unit is only two doors down from the elevator so they don’t have far to go. Chanyeol collapses on his sofa with a loud groan as Jongdae fumbles for the light switch.
“Um, are you gonna be ok?” Jongdae asks, standing awkwardly in the middle of Chanyeol’s living room in his sweaty sock feet. What exactly is proper etiquette for dropping off someone in this situation? Jongdae really has no idea. “Are you sure we don’t...hospital?”
“No, no, I’m fine, just--” Chanyeol cuts off with a choked cry and Jongdae winces.
“What do you need!” Jongdae tears across the narrow room in search of a blanket, pillow, plushie, anything to wipe the painful twist off Chanyeol’s face. “Water? Aspirin? Heating pad? Soju?”
“Just--! Jongdae, just chill, ok? I’ll be--! fine.” Chanyeol looks nothing but, cold sweat soaking his dress shirt and the gentle waves of his dark hair. Jongdae stops short and shuffles uncomfortably in the middle of the room, once again unsure what to do. There is something stuck to his sock, something hot pink and sticky. It’s a post it note with a list scribbled in purple ink:
sugar
egss~
choco chips!!! ^^
butter (?)
“Um, Chanyeol?” Jongdae starts hesitantly. He hates to interrupt him in his moment of pain. Chanyeol grunts in acknowledgement, his knees pulled into his chest as he slowly rocks back and forth on his side in a sad parody of the happy baby pose. “Is this...important? Or should I…?” Jongdae waves the crumpled sticky note and gestures at the wastepaper basket next to an unplugged lava lamp.
“Huh?” Chanyeol blinks twice before his glazed eyes focus on what Jongdae’s holding. “Oh shit!” He surges off the sofa, fingers outstretched for the paper, but falls back before he even gets halfway, clutching at his gut. Jongdae rushes forward to hand over the scrap of paper.
“Here! I didn’t know--I--!”
“Thanks man! Um,” Chanyeol rasps, wiping a streak of sweat from his temple. “My sister--birthday--cookies--tomorrow!” He gasps out before straightening again, his face relaxing a bit. “Do you think you...take me grocery shopping? Do you have time? I--! Sorry!” he whimpers, flopping onto his belly and writhing his hips forward like a crawling remote control toy soldier as he tries to get up.
“No,” Jongdae says, pushing Chanyeol back down on the sofa.
“Yeah, you must--busy, I’m--” Chanyeol knocks his forehead into the sagging armrest. “Sorry! I--”
“No, stupid,” Jongdae says in a softer voice. “I mean, ‘no’, you’re not going anywhere. I’ll go shopping for you though, if you don’t mind my borrowing your car.” Jongdae kicks at the leg of the sofa.
“Really?” Chanyeol’s face brightens as he turns his head to face Jongdae, left cheek pillowed on his wrist. “Thanks, dude! Thanks, I--!”
“Just stay put and rest, I’ll be right back! Is this all you need?” Jongdae waves the wrinkled sticky and Chanyeol nods again, obviously relieved. “Ok, then. See you in twenty.”
Jongdae leaves the door unlocked so Chanyeol doesn’t have to get up to let him back in, but only after multiple reassurances that yes, Chanyeol is okay besides the pain and no, he’s not going to pass out while Jongdae’s gone and no, Jongdae does not need to call his sister, the next door neighbor, or the security guard to come hold his hand.
The market isn’t too far away, just down the road from Chanyeol’s complex, but shopping takes even longer when you have to check every label for allergen information. The chocolate chips are the worst. The first three brands Jongdae checks seem safe at first, only to have processed in a facility that also processes tree nuts--may contain traces stamped at the bottom. Finally, though, he finds a package of trade free chocolate chunks that is warning-free and adds it to his basket with a little hum of triumph.
The eggs, though...none of the boxes have relevant info on the labels, so Jongdae goes with the organic range-free kind just to be on the safe side, biting his lip at the price tag before heading to the check out. It’s worth the extra cost to ensure Chanyeol’s okay. Jongdae’s not taking anymore chances on Customer #11.
He can’t have been gone longer than forty minutes total, but Chanyeol doesn’t answer when Jongdae knocks on his door. Jongdae almost drops the bag of eggs in his panic to check that Chanyeol is still breathing, but before he’s halfway across the floor to the cracking leather sofa Chanyeol gives a shuddering sigh, shifting his gangly legs where they’re crowded at the end by the armrest.
Jongdae heaves a breath of tingling relief before lowering the bags on the kitchen table as soundlessly as possible. He pulls a ratty afghan off the back of the sofa to drape over Chanyeol’s sleeping form. Good. He’s glad Chanyeol managed to fall asleep, and maybe the pain will have subsided by the time he wakes up. He sure took enough benadryl to knock him out until morning.
Jongdae lingers in the doorway for one last glimpse of Chanyeol’s sleeping face. He’s a little apprehensive about leaving the invalid all alone in the dark apartment, but it’s getting late and Chanyeol seems much better now, his chest steadily rising and dipping in soft little sighs under the thick folds of the crochet blanket. The planes of his face, earlier crumpled in pain, now gleam smooth and serene in the dim flickers of streetlight seeping through the blinds. Jongdae turns away with a gulp and carefully locks the door behind him.
Friday is Jongdae’s day off this week, and he really should have set his alarm and gotten up for a run at the gym before heading to the library, but it’s already after 11:00 when he wakes up to a string of texts from Chanyeol:
OMG sooorrry abt last night!! >.<
I mean 4 gtg sick and thn falling aslep on you!!
I mean not ON u...u kno wht i mean! *^_^*
but last night was fun and THANKT U srsly for the shpg
I made noona bday cookiesss check it out
Jongdae groans and rubs his fist through his tornado of messy hair as he blinks at the photo of some very crispy, very blackened lumps on a baking sheet.
i hope those r extra choclty n not burnt dude, he texts back, not bothering to correct his spelling; that’s what Chanyeol gets for disturbing his precious sleep.
uh...haha maybe? >.> is all Chanyeol replies. Jongdae scrolls through his other notifications, tagging the email from Joonmyun about next week’s shift schedule, and drags his ass to the shower.
He’s actually really happy Chanyeol bothered to send him a pic of the results, even if only because he now gets to laugh at him about it for the next five years.
“Wait...did you you just say ‘Chanyeol’ and ‘the next five years’ in the same sentence?” Baekhyun yells across the changing room at work when Jongdae accidentally lets that detail slip a week later. “Omg, it is serious! Zitao wasn’t kiddin’!” Baekhyun clasps his hands to his chest under his slightly crushed bowtie.
“Shut up.” Jongdae hurls his sweaty uniform shirt at Baekhyun’s head and smirks when it hits home. He exits the locker room leaving Baekhyun to claw his way out of Jongdae’s rumpled laundry, an unfamiliar curling sort of satisfaction rising in his chest. He considers dialing Chanyeol on the way to the bus stop but then decides to wait a bit, just until he’s out of Zitao’s creepily omnispective sight (it’s almost like the kid can see through walls, or something). That doesn’t stop him from answering the incoming call he gets from Chanyeol before he even makes it out the building, though.
“Hey, Chanyeol?”
“Hey! So! What I didn’t tell you is--”
“Oh god, don’t tell me you’re allergic to water now,” Jongdae groans, mostly in sarcasm, as he nods to Joonmyun on his way to the back door. He pinches Jongin‘s nose and gives Zitao the finger and his sweetest smile as he passes them in the hall.
“Hey, quit interrupting, jerk!” Chanyeol punches something with his fist and Jongdae muffles a snicker. It hasn’t taken long for them to devolve from polite acquaintances to...acquaintances who enjoy trading insults via text, and most recently, via bitchy phone calls.
It’s not like they talk every night after Jongdae gets off work, but often enough that Zitao has not-so-innocently hinted that they must be more than acquaintances. Ok, so maybe they have talked five out of seven nights this week, but Jongdae continues to deny everyone’s innuendo laden insinuations about Customer #11.
The fact is they are still just acquaintances, albeit ones with a similar passion for bitching and snark. Jongdae would never have plugged Chanyeol for the smug ‘n sassy type the day they ended up in the ER together, but then again Jongdae’s female customers have been known to coo at him and call him “sweetheart,” so he guesses it’s really not fair to judge a salad dressing by it’s label before you’ve read the allergen warnings.
“...anyway, it’s only open on weekends, and my sister’s busy all Saturday, so how about it?”
“Huh?” Jongdae halts in front of his bus stop and realizes with a hot blush limning the angles of his cheekbones that he’s spacing out again. Chanyeol sighs but his accompanying giggle sounds amused, not annoyed.
“I said, what I didn’t tell you is that my weekend hobby is visiting cafes and brunch places. I sort of...have a blog?”
“Wait, really?” Jongdae scrunches his nose, trying to picture Chanyeol in an immaculate suit and sleek silk tie at a kitschy cafe, hunched over a tiny wrought iron table across from Yura, the older sister he’s heard so much about but has yet to meet. He shakes his head, raking his fingers through his limp hair in front of his hazy reflection in the plastic wall of the shelter before turning to face the curb. “That’s cool. Can I have the link to your blog?”
“What?” Chanyeol asks with a sharp intake of air. “I mean, it’s not really a blog! Mostly just posts of crappy pics I take on my cellphone!”
“Ok,” Jongdae says, sticking out his tongue at a yappy little dog as it trots by with its owner. “But can I still have the link? I love food blogs.” He doesn’t actually follow any regularly, but he might as well start since now he works in a restaurant, after all. The info might come in handy to impress Joonmyun with someday, and besides, Jongdae’s already fluent in the art of talking Chanyeol into things he’d rather not do.
“Ok, um...I’ll...text you.” Chanyeol clears his throat. “Does that mean you’re coming tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Jongdae says, fumbling for his T-money card in the side pocket of his leather sling bag. “What time?”
“’ll pick you up at 11:00?”
“So you like small furry things, right?” Chanyeol asks with hopeful anxiety as soon as Jongdae opens the car door on Saturday morning. Jongdae scrambles to secure his seatbelt as Chanyeol pulls forwards and makes a sharp right, narrowly avoiding a halmoni pushing a baby stroller full of cabbages who decided to disregard the street signals at the crosswalk. Jongdae turns away from the window since he doesn’t want to have a heart attack watching Chanyeol’s reckless driving. He’d much rather watch Chanyeol anyway, who is just as strikingly handsome in his long sleeved striped T and white linen shorts as he is in a three-piece tailored suit.
“Yeah, sure,” Jongdae shrugs his shoulders in his loose cardigan. “Why wouldn’t I?” He pulls at a loose thread on the hem of shirt and hopes he looks as well put together as he felt when he left the house this morning.
“Really?” Chanyeol sounds a little surprised and incredibly excited now, bouncing a little on his Hello Kitty seat cushion.
“I mean, are we talking plushies or moldy vegetables here?” Jongdae clarifies, remembering with brutal clarity the smell of the rotting carrots Yixing “lost” in the storage room last month. By the time Zitao found them they weren’t orange anymore, they were rainbow carrots. Jongdae’s still relieved Joonmyun managed to convince Yixing to just throw them out and not serve them as some experimental new side dish a la chartreuse.
“Um, neither?” Chanyeol taps his thumbs against the steering wheel as he waits impatiently at the next light. “But closer to the plushie idea.”
“How close?” Jongdae questions, starting to feel a tingle of suspicion behind his knees.
“Don’t worry! Just wait and see, we’re almost there!” Chanyeol bounces again and turns up the 2NE1 mix queued on the stereo and Jongdae sits back to enjoy the view (hint: it’s not the congested city streetscape he’s admiring, more like the exquisite jut of Chanyeol’s collarbones from the boat neckline of his shirt).
The traffic is not bad for a weekend morning in Seoul, and Chanyeol parks on a shady side street a few blocks from their destination.
“Tada~!” Chanyeol spreads his arms and wiggles his fingers before whipping out his phone to start snapping different angles of the cafe’s sign and front window. “Oh man, whew!” Chanyeol gasps, his long fingers splayed across his sternum and still wiggling as he tries not to hyperventilate. “I’ve been waiting forever for this place to open since I first heard about it, and here we are! Finally! You ready?” He nudges Jongdae’s shoulder with an elbow, his phone shutter still clicking away.
“Um,” Jongdae says, transfixed by a pair of beady black eyes boring into him with malicious intent through the front window.
“Come on!” Chanyeol practically shoves him the through the front door and makes a beeline for the nearest empty table. Well, it’s not exactly empty. Chanyeol scoops something small and furry off the tabletop and cuddles it to his chest, cooing at it in a high pitched register Jongdae is surprised his vocal chords are capable of reaching. “Aigugu! So flippin’ adorable! Isn’t this place awesome, Jongdae?”
“A ferret cafe?” Jongdae coughs out, rather at a loss for words. “Why not somewhere more normal, like--”
“A cat cafe?” Chanyeol asks with a sigh, sinking into a creaky wicker chair. Cat cafes aren’t exactly at the top of Jongdae’s normal list, but he nods anyway. He sort of understands the appeal of visiting places like this if it’s a gimmick for the blog, novelty content or whatever, but all of Chanyeol’s other reviews were about pretty mundane locations, the posts made unique and endearing by Chanyeol’s enthusiastic writing style. Also, Chanyeol seems genuinely excited to be here. With ferrets. What the hell.
“Because,” Chanyeol pouts, wriggling in his seat, “I’m allergic to cats and some dogs, but ferrets are okay. I know because my cousin used to have one.”
“I see,” Jongdae nods.
“Are you gonna sit down?” Chanyeol whacks the back of the seat opposite his with the laminated foldout menu. “Or are you afraid of small furry things after all?”
“Afraid!” Jongdae snorts, still rooted to the spot. “I’m tough. I’m not afraid of rodents!”
“Ok.” Chanyeol flips open the menu and rubs his captive furry thing all over his face. “And by the way, ferrets aren’t rodents. They are mustelids of the Family Mustelidae.” He holds up the ferret to his eye level and makes kissy noises at it. “Aren’t you! Aren’t you a cute little mustelid!” Chanyeol squeaks at the small furry thing.
“Don’t scare the thing, geez,” Jongdae huffs, and drops into the chair across from Chanyeol (after carefully checking the seat for surprises, of course).
“Are you jealous, Jongie?” Chanyeol asks in a dark voice, staring down at him through his dark framed glasses with a look that makes Jongdae want to shiver despite the cranked up heat blowing from the ceiling. “Do you think widdle Jongie’s jealous?” he repeats in the squeaky voice to the ferret, and Jongdae sighs instead. He would be literally headdesking right now if he wasn’t acutely aware of the suspicious mustelid bodily fluids probably coating every surface in sight with an invisible yet horrifically repugnant layer. This is going to be a long breakfast.
“So! What do you want? Coffee? You hungry?” Chanyeol cocks his head, his shoulders jerking as his new mustelid buddy snuffles at his throat.
“Um, not really,” Jongdae murmurs. “Coffee is good, I guess.” At least coffee will emerge from the kitchen well boiled and therefore (hopefully) parasite free.
“Cool. I think...I’ll have sorbet!” Chanyel licks his lips like he’s already anticipating his morning dessert as he selects their order from the digital menu on the tablet mounted on the wall beside them. Jongdae swallows as Chanyeol moistens his lips with another swipe of his tongue and hits enter.
“Sorbet? For breakfast?” That’s almost cute, in the same awkward and unsophisticated yet comfortable way everything about Chanyeol is cute. Except his clothes. Chanyeol dresses pretty sharp, Jongdae has to admit.
“Sure! It’s supposed to be the best thing on the menu. Besides, it’s almost noon anyway.” Jongdae turns his head to follow Chanyeol’s gesture towards the Alice In Wonderland inspired cuckoo clock on the wall above the counter.
“Oh look, Peaches!” Chanyeol coos. “We have a friend!”
Jongdae almost swallows his tonsils in shock as a second small and furry thing leaps straight into his lap.
“Uh,” Jongdae croaks, eye to eye with the white furred ferret that was checking him out from the window earlier.
“Say hello to your new friend, Jongdae!” Chanyeol continues in the obnoxious voice. The ferret blinks once and hops onto the table and finally Jongdae can breathe again, sweet oxygen whooshing into his lungs like the taste of freedom. “Aw, why aren’t you saying hello? I thought you were ok.” Chanyeol looks up from nuzzling his “friend” to offer Jongdae a worried frown. “If you’re uncomfortable here, we can always--”
“It’s ok!” Jongdae hastens to smile. “Really!” He stretches out a tentative index finger towards the white ferret. “Come here...girl!” He brushes the top of the tiny head as lightly as he can. The ferret pulls back its lips into a sneer. “See, I touched it!”
“Uh huh.” Chanyeol looks up to give an unnerving impression of Joonmyun’s thoughtfully concerned face he always puts on for their monthly staff performance eval interviews. “His name’s Coffee Whiskers. He’d appreciate it if you used his name.”
“Ok, Dr. Doolittle.” Jongdae rolls his eyes to hold back a shudder. “But if you’re going to start naming them, maybe this one should be Snowball instead of Coffee Whiskers.” Seriously, there’s not a speck of dark coloring on the little monster. Coffee Whiskers spreads his jaws in a gaping snap of his teeth, as if he understood Jongdae’s mental insult. Ok, that’s just creepy. Maybe Abominable Snow Rodent would be even more appropriate.
“No, really, that’s his name! I memorized all of their profiles,” Chanyeol insists, sliding a napkin across to Jongdae.
“Profiles?”
“The cafe website has a special fan cafe for the members.”
“‘Members’?” Chanyeol smiles and points and Peaches and Coffee Whiskers in response. “I see.”
It doesn’t take long for their order to come out, and Jongdae realizes why as soon as he takes his first sip of cappuccino. His coffee’s lukewarm, barely deserving of any association with the word ‘warm’, actually. Chanyeol stops him from sending it back though; apparently the cafe serves all of their hot drinks at room temperature “for the safety of our mustelid friends.”
Jongdae sips his cold coffee and watches Chanyeol enjoy his raspberry ice. He’s almost like a little kid, licking melty drips from his wrist and thumb with the tip of his pink tongue, and letting Peaches lap up the globs that fall on the table. Coffee Whiskers doesn’t seem interested in the sorbet, and Jongdae absently wonders why as his attention wanders to the window for a moment. He turns back to see Coffee Whiskers stretch his neck, yawn slowly, and plunge his whole snout into Jongdae’s coffee cup. Gross.
Chanyeol just about dies laughing at Jongdae’s disgusted face, and he looks even cuter with his face scrunched up and pink from laughing. Except Chanyeol’s blush doesn’t fade even after he goes back to sharing his breakfast with Peaches, it keeps getting redder and almost puffy looking.
“Um, Chanyeol?”
“Huh?” Chanyeol answers with his mouth full of frozen juice, the raspberry red staining the corners of his mouth.
“Are you okay? Your face is…”
“It’s kind of itchy,” Chanyeol mumbles, reaching up to rub at his eyes. The backs of his hands are covered in red blotches.
“Oh god oh god oh god!” Jongdae shrieks, his vocal pitch matching Chanyeol’s ferret talk voice. “Epi-pen! Where?!”
“I forgot to refill my prescription?” Chanyeol says with a wincing smile. “Eheh! But it’s ok, really!”
“Bathroom!” Jongdae commands, already out of his chair and pulling Chanyeol up by the shirt sleeve. “Now!”
Cold water helps with the swelling and Chanyeol looks a little better by the time Jongdae finishes scrubbing his face, arms, and neck with the coconut scented antibacterial soap, but his shirt is soaked and still full of ferret hair.
Jongdae sighs in fatigue as he hands Chanyeol a wad of paper towels. He really needs to make a list of Things Customer #11 Is Allergic To, for the welfare of the general public as well as his personal sanity. Chanyeol shoves the dampened towels in the trash bin and they quickly pay their bill at the counter and step out into the fresh, clean, ferret-free air.
Chanyeol sneezes loudly as the door swings shut behind them. “You’re not allergic to air, are you?” Jongdae asks as he nudges Chanyeol forward in the direction of his car.
“How is that even possible?” Chanyeol sighs, dragging his canvas shoes against the pavement to afford him one last look of longing at his furry friends.
“Take your shirt off,” Jongdae says as soon as they’re back in Chanyeol’s car.
“What?”
“Here.” Jongdae pulls his extra change of clothes from his backpack and hands it over. “They’re just my gym clothes, but…”
“Aw, I can’t do that to you!” Chanyeol protests, scratching surreptitiously at his waist through his ruined shirt. He’s probably covered in hives. “You obviously need those!”
“Chanyeol, it’s ok. Just drop me home later so I can pick up an extra shirt?”
“Oh,” Chanyeol says, his arms dropping to his sides. “Ok. Thanks!”
Jongdae faces out the passenger window while Chanyeol struggles to extricate himself from the sopping shirt in the tight quarters. He wads the discarded clothing into a tight ball and chucks it in the back seat to deal with later.
“I’m still hungry,” Chanyeol announces, tugging at the collar of his borrowed shirt. Jongdae’s T-shirt is a little tight on him, the outline of his broad shoulders clearly delineated through the clingy spandex. “Let’s find somewhere else to eat lunch!”
“It’s ok if you just want to go home,” Jongdae offers glumly. “I’m beginning to think you’re allergic to me, haha! Every time we hang out you get sick.”
“Don’t feel bad!” Chanyeol reaches over to shove at his shoulder and Jongdae looks up to see his smile, not the brilliant toothpaste ad one, but a lopsided twist of his lips. “It’s just something I have to deal with. Sucky and annoying, yes, but you’ll get used to it too, eventually! Uh, I mean, you don’t have to, of course! It’s fine if you…”
“Come here.” Jongdae gathers up his large, floppy limbs into his arms and Chanyeol drops his head onto Jongdae’s shoulder. “I don’t mind at all, I just hate seeing you suffer.” Chanyeol nods and sniffles softly into Jongdae’s sweater. “Ch-chanyeol? Are you...crying?” Jongdae scrubs up and down Chanyeol’s back with his knuckles because he has no idea what to do with tears, especially when there’s no soju involved to blame them on.
“No,” Chanyeol mutters, lifting his head to blink languidly into Jongdae’s worried eyes. “I just forgot to take my antihistamine this morning and we’ve been walking past a lot of trees.” Chanyeol turns his head and sneezes again. It’s an adorable sneeze for someone so large.
“Oh my god, you are allergic to air!” Jongdae feels a little dizzy at the thought that is actually possible.
“No, I’m not.” Chanyeol is blushing now, his pout even more irresistible when he’s sniffling simultaneously. “I’m just allergic to things in the air.”
“Same difference!” Jongdae punches him in the shoulder and Chanyeol’s face breaks out into a giant grin, this one sincere down to his bone marrow.
“Whatever. I’m still hungry! Can we go get ice cream now?”
“Ok,” Jongdae agrees, his fingers already on the door handle. “Wait!--you’re not lactose intolerant, are you?”
“Jongdae!”
They get ice cream at the shop across the street, scoops of green tea and shooting star and cookies and cream layered into a large paper cup. Chanyeol insists on getting only one cup to share between the two of them, mumbling something about sustainable logging practices in Indonesia, and they wander over to a small park nearby, settling on a bench at a safe distance from any autoimmune triggering trees.
They dig in with their little pink spoons in a competitive frenzy until the remaining ice cream is all a melted slush in the bottom of the bowl. Jongdae takes one last bite, savoring the sweetness under his tongue as he watches Chanyeol eat. Chanyeol has drips of sticky melted cream on his wrist and down the front of his borrowed shirt (good thing Jongdae’s wardrobe is more machine washable than his own) and chocolate smeared at the corners of his mouth. Jongdae thinks it’s a little disgusting, but mostly just disgustingly adorable.
They should have grabbed some napkins though, that’s for sure. Jongdae nervously wipes his hands on his jeans and decides it’s time to break the silence; the ice cream is good, sure, but it’s weird Chanyeol’s being so quiet.
“So did you--”
“So this stuff--” Chanyeol starts to say at the same time, then breaks off with a sudden blush that leaves both of them flustered.
“Go ahead,” Jongdae says with a curling grin, enjoying the way the pink flush is spreading from Chanyeol’s cheeks to engulf his whole face.
“Uh...this ice cream is really sweet!” Chanyeol ducks his head to stare into the swirling depths of their molten dessert. “But you know what’s sweeter is…” He swipes with his tongue at the oreo crumbles on his lip and misses half of them.
“Uh huh?” Jongdae nods encouragingly, eyebrows raised. Chanyeol’s still not looking at him directly though, his gaze lost somewhere between the cracks in the pavement under their feet.
“Um, you are?” Chanyeol whispers, and Jongdae freezes, squinting in concentration to make sure he heard right. Then Chanyeol lunges towards him, arms braced on either side of Jongdae’s hips on the bench seat. He blinks, his eyelashes doing this hummingbird thing that should look stupid but makes Jongdae’s heart vibrate in tandem at the thought of their exquisite brush along his jawline.
“Did you hear me?” Chanyeol’s still whispering and Jongdae’s vocal chords aren’t functioning right now, so he just nods emphatically before leaning up to close the distance. Chanyeol gasps at the first press of their lips and Jongdae smirks before deepening the kiss, his fingers releasing his sticky plastic spoon to twine in Chanyeol’s hair.
Chanyeol pulls back, his face still smeared in chocolate, and beams at Jongdae so hard he might be in danger of breaking his face.
“So,” Jongdae says quietly.
“So!” Chanyeol repeats, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. “You don’t actually hate me because, ferrets?”
“No?” Jongdae laughs and wipes his mouth on his wrist. “But I don’t think we should go back there anytime soon.”
“Aw, ok,” Chanyeol sighs, scratching lightly at his elbow.
“Are you ok?” Jongdae questions, leaning even closer to search Chanyeol’s face.
“Do I not look ok?” Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrows in a smug undulation and Jongdae punches his stupid, sticky shoulder.
“No itchy spots? Shortness of breath? Swelling? No side effects from making out with this hunk of awesome?” Jongdae points to his own nose and grins.
“Omg, just shut up, Dae!” Chanyeol moans in sudden understanding, burying his face in Jongdae’s shoulder.
“Hey, just checking! I don’t want our first official date to land us in the ER again,” Jongdae says, soothing his fingers through the silk of Chanyeol’s dark hair.
“This is a date?” Chanyeol sits up and blinks at Jongdae eagerly.
“Uh, sure? Yes? If you want?”
“Of course I want!” Chanyeol wraps strong arms around him and squeezes until Jongdae feels thoroughly sticky and surrounded and full to the brim with something like love…
“And you’d better keep coming on them with me! We’ve got a lot of waffles and ice cream to review together!” Chanyeol releases his tight grip on Jongdae’s shoulders just enough to find his lips again. Jongdae opens for him with a soft sigh in wholehearted agreement.
******
Hello, all of you wonderful readers!! And welcome to this week’s installment of Happy Heart Food Life, brought to you by your host, PCY!! (aka, P.lease C.onsume Y.ummily ;))
This weekend I’m reviewing a pet cafe (ferrets, guys!! there are ferretsss!!!) in Myeongdong, and I also have a special announcement to make:
I have a boyfriend!!! O.o !!!
Isn’t that great?!? Yeah, I know! Like, I keep pinching his cheeks to make sure he’s real. Not sure he appreciates that tho.
Anywho! I knew you all would just be dying to congratulate us (now accepting congratulatory gifts in the form of restaurant coupons and dander-free pets, please see PayPal details below), but I’m also announcing this because…(wait for it kkk ^^)...my bf’s gonna be helping out with posts from now on!! Crazy awesome, right?
The bf (let’s just call him Chen) is really hilarious, if I haven’t already mentioned, so I guarantee you’ll all enjoy getting to know his awesome self through these posts~!
Last matter of housekeeping before we get to the ~~aDorAbLE~~ ferret pictures you’re all dying to see (alright, ok, I guess I’ll have to forgive those of you who already scrolled down there first thing :P), all future blog entries will be posted as a guide to allergy-conscious, gluten free, and vegan friendly restaurants and cafes! So if you know of good places to recc us, send ‘em in! Flood the ask box and we’ll check ‘em out! ;))
Without further ado: FERRETS ^_^
