A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.
Third Person POV
"Two nasi gorengs please," Gun heard Mark saying to the waiter who had approached their table.
Gun still could not believe that he had accepted Mark's invitation to have dinner with him at this Indonesian restaurant.
"And what drinks would you like to order, sir?" the waiter asked.
Mark looked at Gun.
"Would you like a glass of beer?" Mark asked.
"I don't think so," Gun replied. "I wanna be able to drive myself safely back home."
"I will drive you home," Mark offered.
"No, thanks," Gun replied.
"Then what would you like to drink?" Mark asked.
"Tamarind juice," Gun replied.
"Two glasses of tamarind juice, please," Mark said to the waiter.
"Very well, sir," the waiter said and walked away to take care of Mark's orders.
"You know what else is my favorite Indonesian dish?" Mark asked Gun as the waiter walked away from their table.
"What?" Gun asked, barely interested in what Mark's answer would be.
"Loempia," he replied.
"What is that?" Gun asked.
"It's the Indonesian version of a spring roll," Mark explained. "It tastes really good. You dip it in a thick and sticky sweet sour sauce."
Gun found himself getting interested in the dish that Mark had just described.
"I would like to try that," Gun remarked without thinking.
"Before you bite into it, you close your mouth around the tip and suck off the sauce," Mark said, a naughty gleam appearing in his eyes.
Gun blushed, realizing exactly the image that Mark was trying to place into Gun's mind.
Mark motioned for the waiter to come back to their table.
"Please add two orders of loempia," Mark said to the waiter.
"Sure," the waiter said, bowing slightly to Mark before walking away.
"So what do you like to do when you have free time?" Mark asked Gun.
"I usually don't have free time," Gun said cautiously, knowing instinctively where this conversation was going.
"But when you do get the free time, what do you like to do?" Mark insisted on knowing.
"Watch a movie maybe," Gun answered indifferently.
"What kind of movies do you enjoy watching?" Mark asked.
Was there no end to Mark's questioning?
"Action and adventure," Gun replied.
"So you would be interested in mafia movies, right?" Mark asked.
The waiter arrived with their orders and set them on the table.
Gun picked up his glass of tamarind juice and slowly sipped from it before replying to Mark.
"It depends," Gun said after setting down his glass. "I don't like watching too much blood and violence."
"But you're okay with watching explicit sex," Mark said.
Gun started coughing on his tamarind juice.
Mark stood up and went over to Gun and tapped several times on the back of his neck.
This was the second time in one day that Mark had made Gun choke on a drink.
"Are you alright now?" Mark asked when Gun stopped coughing.
Gun nodded and Mark walked back to his seat.
Mark picked up a loempia and dipped it into the mini bowl of sweet sour chili sauce and leaned forward placing it close to Gun's mouth.
"Open up," Mark said to Gun.
Gun refused to do so. Instead he took the loempia from Mark.
"Suck on the sauce first before biting into the loempia," Mark instructed Gun.
Gun refused to do so but bit into the loempia as soon as he placed it into his mouth.
"No, no, no," Mark protested. "Do it like this. Let me show you."
"Stop or I'll leave the table," Gun threatened.
"Okay, okay," Mark relented. "I was just trying to have some fun."
"I don't like your kind of fun," Gun remarked, sipping from his tamarind juice once more.
Gun had to admit that he liked the taste of the loempia. He liked its crunchiness and the sweet and sour chili sauce that went so well with it.
Gun decided that after nasi goreng, loempia was his next favorite Indonesian dish.
"Thank you for the dinner. I enjoyed it," Gun said as he and Mark walked out of the restaurant.
"Sure," Mark replied. "It's too early to go home. You wanna watch a movie?"
Before Gun could reply, Gun's phone started to ring.
Gun took out his phone from his pocket and swiped the screen.
"Yes, Boat," Mark heard Gun say on his phone.
Shit, Mark said under his breath.
"Hold on, Boat," Gun drew his phone away from his ear for a second. "What did you say, Mark?"
"Nothing," Mark replied, disappointment written all over his face.
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