●be mine, valentine●

chapter nine

Valentine rushes around the busy diner, refilling coffee cups and handing out plate after plate of food to his endless number of tables. Working the graveyard shift wouldn't have been this crowded in any other restaurant but being in New York City made it much busier than he desired.

He's six hours into his eight-hour shift and he's beginning to feel the ache of the night. His back hurt, his feet hurt, his head hurt. Not to mention the fact that he was running to the bathroom every hour to puke his guts out.

The 'morning' sickness seemed to be hitting him in full swing this week, worse than usual. He thought it was supposed to be gone by the end of the first trimester but he guessed his lack of a healthy schedule can't be helping. 

He hasn't necessarily done the best at being pregnant.

Valentine's been pulling seventy hours a week trying to save up enough money for the new baby and for Luca. With all of the business, he just hasn't had much time to take care of himself.

He only eats a few little snacks a day, and only sleeps for a few hours. He feels like he's always moving, like he'll never be able to stop.

The only thing he had going for him was the amount of water he was drinking to keep the throwing up to a minimum.

He was hydrated and for that he was proud.

He didn't think the lack of food was really affecting him though. It's the same he's always eaten, even when he was pregnant with Luca.

Luca was his perfect, healthy boy. The new baby would be no different.

He knew he had to make a doctor's appointment for the baby though, just to be sure. Maybe even get a picture of the little one, something he was never able to get with Luca.

Once again, he just didn't have the time.

"Order up for table six." Valentine hears the kitchen staff yell from the back. He quickly makes his way, grabbing the plates and stacking them up on his arms.

"Here's that food for you guys! Give me a holler if you need anything else!" He says with his fakest happy voice and a smile as he places the food on the table. Anything to get better tips.

He goes through the motions; clearing tables, settling checks, filling up drinks.

It's as he's rounding the corner to the kitchen that he sees a familiar face he never thought he'd face outside of work.

He saw the stubble on Greyson's face first, how it had grown during the day, and how he looked late at night. Valentine always saw him right after he shaved, he never saw him any less put together. He couldn't help but think about how gorgeous the stubble looked on him though. He also quite enjoyed the way that he only had a dress shirt on that had the top few buttons undone, displaying a thick layer of dark-colored chest hair.

"Greyson, I love you, but you've gotta lighten up, man."

At the sound of Maverick's smooth, lighthearted voice, Valentine turned his attention to the other man, feeling the same pull. Unlike Greyson, Maverick had on a flannel and a pair of jeans that were practically sculpted to the man's legs. And the flannel was a completely different story.

He looked like a lumberjack, Valentine thought.

Like a really sexy lumberjack.

No, he couldn't think like that. These men weren't his, they didn't look at him the way that he did. They were entirely indifferent to him.

"Respectfully, Mav, fuck off." Valentine shudders at the sound of Greyson's deep rumble.

These men were gonna kill him.