Au: Regular
Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, Bad English puns
Word Count: 2.8k+
•──────⋅☼⋅──────•
Kira was convinced she was in love with the part-time chef at the restaurant around the corner from your apartment.
Along with a pair of friends, I went to the small restaurant for her birthday. It was conveniently in between all of our homes. It had a variety of food to choose from, which Kira appreciated as her diet was restricted. I wasn't quite sure why she decided to be a vegan after years of enjoying all kinds of food.
The kitchen was visible through a large glassless window frame that separated itself from the main dining area. After making our meals, the chef had come out from behind the see-through wall to lay them out before us.
Kira squealed at the sight of her food, immediately thanking the man and insisted on talking his ear off about her diet. I, along with our other friend, Sayori, sighed, waiting for the man to make an excuse and flee, but he didn't. Instead, he listened, naturally wide eyes watching the woman rattle on with his hands tucked behind his back.
He didn't say a word. For whatever reason, Kira took it as permission to keep talking. Somehow getting on the topic of her pet dog that she owned as a kid that had died the year prior, and then onto how it was her birthday.
"Congratulations," he said before walking back to the kitchen.
Sayori snorted, but it went unheard by Kira, who kept her eyes glued to the man for the rest of the evening. She was smitten. She practically begged to stay back for drinks just to watch him for a bit longer.
I couldn't understand it: he had only said a single word. But then again, Kira always had a way of crushing quickly and suddenly on the most random people. In high school, she had crushed on at least one member of every club that she could openly observe, namely sports players who waved at the crown after gaining a point.
So infatuated with the new object of her obsessions, she had come to me. Well, my apartment.
The restaurant itself was closest to my apartment. I just so happened to live near one of the main roads where restaurants presided. So, when Kira felt the urge to go and spy on the silent man, she ran to me to go with her.
So there I was, in the same seat as before, sipping on sake, watching Kira ogle at the man in the kitchen.
Seeing Kira grow excited, I turned my attention over to catch the sight of him walking over with our freshly made meals balanced in his hands. His apron was thick, tied comfortable over his clothes. He rolled the sleeves of his pullover up to his elbows, showing off the toned muscle of his forearm. His hair was black, clipped short as if his parents had done it for him as a kid, and he never tried anything different. It suited him, though, like a Scottish fold with black fur.
The plates rattled as they hit the table. He gestured to my plate of food before looking at me.
"It was nice to meat you," he said, paused, then walked off with a satisfied nod.
I snorted, cupping my nose to stop the sake from shooting through my nostrils and burning my nose hairs off.
"What was that?" Kira pushed, taping her fingers quickly on the table. "You've met before? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I— no, Kira." Laughs escaped you despite all your efforts to calm them down. I pointed to my plate where expertly cut and cooked slices of pork lay, waiting. "He made a pun!"
I replayed the memory of the awkwardly demeanoured chef making a casual joke with a subtle look of satisfaction once he said it, continuing to giggle into my hands at the memory. Kira blinked my way but continued to chuckle into the meal.
She gasped partway through the meal, leaning over her food to whisper as he pointed in the man's direction. "He's eating a banana while he's on break! He's so healthy. What a good choice in fruit!"
Chewing on my pork, I leaned my head closer to her, hoping to get the same view that she had through the heads of other diners. Before I could stop myself, I snorted again, hunching to the point that my shirt dragged into the accompanying sauce on the table, staining it.
"What are you laughing at this time?" Kira whined.
"He's carrying a whole bushel of bananas! It's comical! I can't help it."
"Stop laughing at my crush!"
"Okay, okay, just give me a moment. I need to calm down." Grabbing a napkin, I squeezed it around the stained fabric of my shirt. "So, Bananas, huh? Is that why you find him a-peeling?"
Kira huffed, crossing her arms across the frills of her pink shirt.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Are you mad at me?"
"No. A little." Kira's eyes were still trained on the chef as he hunched over his work.
"I think he's funny. I was laughing at a joke he made, not him." I sighed, setting the crumpled napkin on the table.
"You and Sayori always laugh at my crushes."
"Only the bad ones."
"Hey!"
I chuckled. "Kira, you look at one person for half a second and immediately say you love them. If you don't forget about their existence by the day's end, you kind of stalk them for a few days before they tell you off, or you go on a date. And by the time the date is over, you're over your crush because of some technicality."
"Then what do you think I should do?"
"Well, I can't say what will happen with this chef. But maybe ask his name first?"
•──────⋅☼⋅──────•
Fukunaga, a name that never seemed to leave my recent memory, had agreed to Kira's proposed date. While it was my original suggestion for Kira to ask him out, I didn't expect the consequences to be my own. Most of all, I never had expected her to think that since I gave her one good piece of advice, I'd continue to be able to do so.
They were supposed to be bar hopping tonight—Kira's choice—so...
"Why are you here?"
It was late. All I wanted to do was lay down and watch the game with a big bowl of noodles and sausages. After a long day of dealing with eager athletes, I had already changed into comfortable pyjamas.
Kira gave you a smile, swinging side to side so that her skirt would flare out. "Shohei mentioned that he played volleyball in high school and that there was a game today. We were nearby, but the bar was playing soccer. And I know you watch the games, so we came here."
Fukunaga's lips pursed. He was wearing a neatly tucked buttoned shirt that led down to a pair of slacks and leather shoes. He looked apologetic once he glanced at my lazy attire like he was tempted to pull Kira back and leave me to my privacy. A man of respect. Sadly, I was too soft.
"Get in."
Kira rushed past, kicking off her slippered heels and jumping onto the couch, where she curled into an armrest.
Fukunaga was slower, careful with his movements even though you knew he could move faster having seen him work in a kitchen. He hunched over and pulled his shoes off.
"I'm not here to steal unless you have some stainless." His voice was quiet as if talking to himself.
I let out a low chuckle, trying not to speak louder than my tv volume. "Dressed like that, I'd think you'd be after my stalks, not my appliances."
His eyebrows were near his hairline, and he shot up like a sunflower looking for the sun. He blinked at you with a slight, cat-like grin. "That was a good one."
I nodded and ushered him inside.
"I was making food. Have you two eaten?"
Kira spoke up, "We only got a couple of drinks before coming here."
So they barely had a date then. I tried not to sigh.
"I'll make sure you get no sausages in your bowl then, Kira, extra vegetables. Fukunaga, are you—"
There was a breath on my shoulder. I lurched, nearly brushing my hand on the hot pot had the chef not reached around my back to prevent it.
His eyes were trained on the food, but I glanced between his side profile and the woman on my couch, whose eyes were trained on the TV as it played through pre-game advertisements. Fukunaga dropped my wrist and stepped away with a satisfied nod and hum as I looked back.
I mimicked him and got back to work as he went to the couch.
"How was work today?" Kira asked me with insistent eyes when I brought over their food as the game started.
It had been silent minus my work and the tv. Had Kira not been able to say a word to him? I sighed, taking a separate seat from the two on opposite sides of my couch. Fukunaga looked as though his mind was on other things while Kira actively avoided getting near him.
"Alright, most men are insistent on working themselves harder, even when I tell them that will have the opposite effect."
Kira nodded with pursed lips before filling her mouth with green vegetables.
Fukunaga turned my way with his head tilted inquisitively, and I wasn't surprised to see Kira nearly sag in relief. She had lost interest before the date was even over.
I gave the past volleyball player a smile, "I'm a physical therapist. I primarily work on contracts for specific athletes. I somehow have a specialty with shoulders and either consequently or reason being, I work with many volleyball players."
Fukunaga looked off before returning, "Are you playing god by watching them outside of therapy?"
My snorting made Kira jump and cough on her food, but I shook my head through the laughter. "If only it were as easy as playing a videogame. But no, not really. I do genuinely like the sport. Many, in fact. I played a handful of sports until I collected injuries like a bruised banana and let myself go. It's why I got into physio in the first place. But I can't deny that I keep an eye on them once they get back to playing. They can be reckless."
Fukunaga's laughter was silent except for a few puffs of air or his airway clicking open and closed.
While I never understood Kira's tendency to quickly gain and lose interest in her crushes, I couldn't grasp why she disliked this particular man's company so quickly.
•──────⋅☼⋅──────•
Despite her insistence on bringing him to my home and attempting to leave him there while she ran away, Kira underestimated Fukunaga's chivalry and his stomach. Kira could eat quickly when she wanted, but Fukunaga just so happened to eat faster. As soon as she said that she needed to go home, Fukunaga was on his feet and guiding her home despite her insistence that she stay behind and finish watching.
The fool she was. And just like a fool, she called Sayori over and appeared at my door with a look that resembled betrayal.
Sayori's arm rested on the back of your couch while Kira paced, and I stood in the kitchen prepping tea. "I don't see how this is any different from all the other times, except that you dragged the poor man here so that they could bond even though it was your date."
"Well, I could have used some help ending the date!"
I poured the water out into the three cups. "That, my deer, is a skill you must learn independently. We can't all be fawns forever."
"Not another pun!" Kira whined.
Sayori sighed, taking the mug I offered with thanks. "What's so wrong with the man that you had to try and ditch him here?"
I handed the second mug to Kira as she huffed, taking the last for myself while I dipped into the couch next to Sayori.
"He's a comedian, okay?!"
"Is he? No wonder!" I howled, hand on my stomach. "He's pretty funny."
"I knew you'd say that," Kira whined, finally falling into a cushion and not walking marks into my floor.
"Okay, you don't like his jokes. What's the problem?"
"It's not that I don't like them... well, I'm not a fan—"
"Of course not. You're a person," I laughed to yourself, earning a light hit from Sayori despite her pursed grin.
"Please, stop!" Kira whined again, throwing her head back. "I don't pick up on his jokes, and almost everything he says is some sort of pun or witty comment! I don't understand a word he says."
Sayori sucked in some air, holding it while she thought. "Well, He works as a chef too, even if he is a comedian. Do you know what he does for that anyways?"
"Contract freelance, I think? Like he gets hired for shows if there's a spot to fill and write scripts and stuff?"
"Doesn't seem like a bad gig," I commented into my mug.
"Of course, you'd say that."
Sayori continued. "So what the problem now. You tried the date out. It didn't go as planned. You move on."
"He gave me an invitation to see a comedy show he's a part of."
"Like an underground bar type one?"
"No, like a big stage massive crowd type one downtown."
I whistled, earning another glare from Kira. "I think you might have found an up and comer. No way some small-town rookie would be a part of one of those. What's his full name again? I'll look him up."
"Fukunaga Shohei."
Setting my cup down, I pulled out my phone and quickly searched for the man's name. Results popped up faster than I could read.
"I'll take the ticket."
"Really?"
"Hell ya. No way I want to miss out on this."
•──────⋅☼⋅──────•
My stomach hurt. Of course, I should have expected it to going in. The theatre offered wine, and I grabbed a glass, not wanting to miss out on the whole experience. Or two. But the wine alone didn't make my stomach ache. No, it was the show. Which had me and the hundreds seated around me howling like hyenas as the collection of comedians went on and off stage to perform different acts and games.
I was clutching my stomach when Fukunaga found me after the show.
"Tickled, are you?"
"To the point that it could be assault. I enjoyed the show. I'd say I'm sorry Kira couldn't make it, but I'm not. I'm glad I was the one that got to watch."
Fukunaga shook his head but maintained a pleasant grin while he unbuttoned the top of his shirt. "Really, I just needed to give away the ticket. No one I knew was free tonight. Kira doesn't seem to pick up on my jokes anyway. So I'm glad you came along."
It's the most I'd heard him speak. Compared to what Kira had said, it was likely more than she had heard at one time. I couldn't keep down a smile even if I tried. "I like humour. Kira can be a bit of a stickler when it comes to jokes."
Guests making their way out of the theatre caught my eye, making my head follow the crowd as they trickled out into the street.
"Have you eaten?" Fukunaga asked, calling for my attention.
I blinked at him. "No, I didn't have the time to make anything after work."
"Let's go eat, then."
"Fukunaga, I'm not sure if you know this, but the city is starting to doze off."
"Well, the only thing in my kitchen that sleeps is the fridge. It snores a bit. Come on, I'll make you dinner."
I bit the inside of my cheeks, trying to stop the grin from growing any more prominent than it already was. "Okay."
•──────⋅☼⋅──────•
"Shohei, you are not as young as you used to be," I said, slowly moving his elbow that had been bothering him over the past week.
There was a crunch.
"Mamaaaa!"
I snorted and fell into a chuckle. At the sound, Fukunaga's pout turned into a keen smile.
"I should refer some of my friends to you. You've got a deity's hands."
"Keep getting injured, and you'll only get felt up."
His eyes smiled. "Maybe that's the plan."
I flicked his head and set his arm down. The kitchen was waiting. "I'm cooking. You're on rest."
"Squid?"
Fukunaga was smiling wistfully over the back of the couch.
"Squid."
•──────⋅☼⋅──────•
Do I know anything about comedy? No. but I hope you guys picked up on my jokes. - Bacon
Posted: 22/05/2022